Page 296 of Reaper Said Mine

My eyes sting again.

"Good."

His brow rises.

"Good?"

"I'd hate to go through all this emotional growth for nothing."

He laughs.

A real laugh.

Deep, warm, alive.

The sound fills the room, and I realize I haven't heard it in far too long.

Then his forehead rests gently against mine.

The bond hums between us. The constant tension that has haunted us for weeks finally loosens its grip, leaving only the quiet certainty of connection.

"I love you too," I whisper.

His eyes close.

The relief that crosses his face nearly breaks my heart. It isn't dramatic. It's simply honest, and I know he needed to hear those words every bit as much as I needed to say them.

We remain there for a long moment, foreheads touching, breathing the same air while the station murmurs around us.

Eventually I lean into him.

His arm settles around my shoulders, careful of the injuries and careful of me.

The warmth of him eases a burden I hadn't realized I was carrying. The fear and loneliness don't vanish forever, but for this moment they loosen enough for me to breathe freely.

Outside, the war still burns. Fleets maneuver. Politicians scheme. The evidence waiting in secured archives hasn't become any less dangerous.

Tomorrow will bring new battles, new problems, and new dangers.

But tomorrow isn't here yet.

Tonight belongs to us.

I curl against him.

He holds me.

There is no urgency in it, no desperation. Just closeness. Comfort. Trust rebuilt one honest word at a time.

After a while, I murmur against his chest, "You know I'm still going to yell at you later."

"I assumed."

"For several hours."

"Reasonable."

"I'm keeping a list."