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"We do at that." I reach across the table, my fingers brushing hers—a touch that says more than words ever could.
Sasha meets my gesture, intertwining our fingers with ease born from nights of holding on to each other like lifelines. "And we'll keep being one," she adds softly.
"Yeah." My thumb strokes the back of her hand. "We will."
The gentle breeze carries the scent of pine and the distant chirping of birds, a serene backdrop for the conversation we need to have.
"What happened with Simon and Damian,” I begin, my thumb stroking the back of her hand, "it's made me realize how important trust and communication are in our relationship."
Sasha nods, her gaze meeting mine. "I agree. We've come so far, but there's still work to be done. On both sides."
I take a deep breath, the words I've been holding back finally spilling out. "I know I can be overprotective at times, and I'm sorry if that's made you feel like I don't trust you or respect your independence."
She squeezes my hand, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I understand where it comes from, Axel. Your past, your instincts. But I need you to trust that I can handle things, that I'm stronger than you think."
"I know you are," I admit, my free hand reaching up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "You've proven that time and again. I promise to work on letting go, on trusting in your strength and resilience."
Sasha leans into my touch, her eyes soft and understanding. "And I promise to be more open with you, to communicate my needs and feelings instead of bottling them up."
We sit in comfortable silence for a moment, the weight of our words settling around us like a warm blanket. I know there will be challenges ahead, moments when old habits and fears resurface, but I also know that we're in this together.
"So," I say, breaking the quiet with a playful grin, "what does the future hold for us?"
Sasha's face lights up, her excitement palpable. "Well, for starters, I think we should take that trip we've been talking about. Just you, me, and a secluded beach somewhere."
I chuckle, pulling her closer until she's nestled against my side. "I like the sound of that. And maybe, when we get back, we can start looking for a place of our own. Somewhere we can build a life together."
"And after that?" she asks, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “A dog? A house with a white picket fence?”
I chuckle, shaking my head at her playful tone. "You think small, Sunshine. I was thinking more along the lines of... I don't know... starting our own foundation or something."
She raises an eyebrow. "A foundation?"
"Yeah," I say, feeling the weight of the idea as it leaves my mouth. "We've both got some pull now. Maybe we can use that to help people—kids who need it, veterans... There's a lot of broken shit out there we could try to fix."
Her hand finds mine again, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I love that," she says earnestly. "Using our powers for good."
I snort at her choice of words but don’t disagree.
"We're going to do great things, Axel Creed," she declares with an infectious optimism that I feel seeping into my bones.
"We are." The words feel like a vow—a promise not just to her but to myself.
I'm sprawled across the couch, legs kicked up on the coffee table that's now littered with maps and notepads. Sasha's perched on the edge of her seat, pen in hand, scribbling away like she's drafting her next hit song. But it ain't lyrics we're working on—it's our future.
"So, Pine Haven for the foundation headquarters?" I ask, pointing to a spot on the map. "Feels right, being close to home."
She nods, her curls bouncing with enthusiasm. "Exactly. A place where everyone feels at home." Her pen pauses mid-air. "But what about funding? We can't just run on love and good intentions."
I can't help but chuckle at that. "Don't worry, Sunshine. I've got a few bucks stashed away for a rainy day." I throw her a wink. "Or, you know, a life-changing venture."
Sasha rolls her eyes but grins. "Just a few bucks, huh? Understatement of the century."
There's this fire in her when she talks about our plans—like she's ready to take on the world and win. It's contagious.
"We'll need a name for the foundation," I muse aloud.
"How about 'Second Chances'?" She leans back, her eyes searching mine for approval.
