The further we walked, the wider the rooms became, open spaces built for weapons testing and explosive impact zones.
“Is this entire floor just one giant testing area?” she asked from behind me, turning her head everywhere at once.
“Pretty much.” I keyed open another secured door and stepped aside for her. “This is my favorite floor.”
Her eyes flicked toward me curiously, but I just smirked. “I like building things.” That earned me another surprised look.
As we walked, I pointed toward different sections.
“The third underground level handles planning and schematics. Theories, blueprints, prototype concepts.” She nodded seriously, cataloging everything. “The fourth floor handles parts fabrication and assembly, but most of us call it the S&G department.”
Looking back, her forehead got these little creases as she tried to piece together the meaning.
“Screws and Gears,” I explained.
“Oh!” Her eyes sparkled. “That sounds fun.” She looked around eagerly before turning back toward me. “When do I get to see it?”
An idea slid into my head. I stopped walking and pointed at her. “If you can run at top speed and stop with your nose barely touching the wall, I'll take you to that floor and let you run free.”
Her mouth dropped open immediately, and she practically bounced in place.
“No way. Seriously?”
I nodded once and stepped closer. My hands settled lightly on her shoulders while I leaned down near her face.
The scent of roses curled around me, and my gaze drifted to the tattoo peeking out from beneath the sleeve of her shirt.
Black ink. Deep reds. Layered petals spiraling across her skin. It was hypnotic how the design made you fall into it without thinking. My thumb traced lightly over one of the roses, trying to crack the optical illusion that made them seem real.
Her eyes fell to where my finger lingered. “I got that to remind myself that this color doesn't always mean violence and blood. It could also be the color of something beautiful.”
My thumb paused, and she pulled away from me abruptly. A rough, humorless laugh escaped her. The sound was brittle around the edges, like she was breaking.
“Hard lesson to learn when your first childhood memory is sitting in a pool of it.”
The words hollowed out the room instantly. Her arms crossed tightly over herself while she rubbed at them absently. Her eyes became distant, as if she were reliving it somewhere in her mind.
“Everyone was just standing around trying to figure out what to do with the orphan nobody wanted.”
Something in my chest twisted violently. My heart couldn’t stand seeing that look on her face. That emptiness. That lonely ache sitting behind her eyes.
Before I could think better of it, I grabbed her shoulders and pulled her straight into my chest. She stiffened, but I only held on tighter, proving I wasn’t going anywhere.
“You belong here,” I murmured into her hair. “With us.”
Her shoulders stayed tense beneath my hands. Her arms were still protectively crossed between us, but I didn’t let go. I remembered exactly what that kind of loneliness felt like, and I refused to let her carry it alone anymore.
“I learned a long time ago that pain is a double-edged thing,” I murmured into her hair. “It can destroy you if you let it.” My arms tightened slightly around her. “Or it can carve you into something stronger.”
At first, she stayed stiff against me, like she was still expecting to be rejected if she leaned onto someone else too heavily.Then slowly, inch by inch, the tension began to melt out of her shoulders and she stepped closer.
It wasn’t much, but it was enough for me to feel the shift.
“And that ache you carry around?” I continued softly. The breath that left her hitched halfway out, hitting something real. “That’s just a phantom.”
Her fingers curled slightly against my shirt.
“A reminder your mind drags around because it got used to surviving.” I pulled back enough to see her face.
