Page 6

And color. Always color.

The copter dipped again and she gasped, turning her face into his shoulder without thinking. “Sorry,” she whispered, eyes wide.

Kaos let the wall stay open a moment longer. Long enough to feel her wonder. Long enough to feel himself unraveling inside it.

****

Kaos hadn’t moved for ten miles. His body stayed fixed, left elbow anchored against the door, right hand resting over his thigh like a loaded trap. His gaze never left the windshield. Not the driver. Not the window. But her. The loudest thing in the vehicle even when she wasn’t speaking.

She tried to be quiet at first. Gave it a good five minutes of pretending to enjoy the scenery. Then the nudges came.

“Do you think they’ll give me an art room?” she asked, voice light, hopeful. “I mean, they probably will. Right? Feels like a place that would have space for that.”

He held his jaw closed but she smiled like he’d answered.

“Yeah, exactly. Even if it’s just a small one. I can make do. I’ve worked out of closets. Once made a whole exhibit in a bathroom stall. True story.”

She crossed her legs the other way, rested her hands in her lap, and tried again.

“You don’t really talk much, huh?” She turned slightly, putting herself in Lust’s peripheral sight. “That’s fine. Mystery’s good. People talk too much. Not you, though,” she said with a snort and chuckle. “You probably only speak when it matters. Like… ‘the enemy’s dead’ or ‘duck.’”

He let his eyes shift. Just enough to see the curve of her cheek when she smiled at her own nonsense.

“You’re not laughing, but inside I feel like you think that’s funny. Or maybe you’re annoyed. Or both. I can work with that.”

She turned back to her window.

His eyes moved closer.

“Do you ever get tired of being the strong, silent type? Like, just once, do you want to break character and be like, ‘Jaxi, please stop talking or I’ll throw myself from the moving vehicle’?”

Kaos breathed in. Held it. Then let it go. Slow.

“Okay real question—if you had to live in any movie for a year, which one would it be? I’d pick something super colorful. Like a Wes Anderson film. Everything organized but slightly unhinged. You’d pick something violent, I bet. Probably in black and white. No soundtrack. Just slow-motion explosions and betrayal.”

Her foot tapped once against the floorboard. A small, restless beat. The kind you didn’t notice until it synced with your pulse.

“You’re judging me right now. I can feel it. You’re thinking, ‘Why won’t this girl shut up?’ And I get it. But also—maybe you’re secretly impressed. That I keep going. That I’m still talking, even while you look like you’re deciding where to bury my body.”

She paused. Pressed her lips together. Then laughed softly.

“That’s fine,” she allowed. “You’d probably do it artistically. Like, leave a note carved in bone. Very classy.”

Kaos kept his eyes forward, but inside, his grip on his Lust and Rage frayed with every word. She was filling the space like a force of nature. Painting the silence. Sculpting his responses out of thin air. Holding both ends of the conversation like it was a duet and he was just the instrument.

“I’ll shut up now,” she said.

But she didn’t.

“Unless you like it. Do you like it? You can blink once for yes. Or just keep staring into the void like it owes you money.”

Her laugh came again. Quieter this time. Almost shy.

“I think you’re probably brilliant. Not book-smart brilliant. But battlefield-brilliant. Like you see everything. Catalog it. Weaponize it. I bet you’ve already figured me out. Every weakness. Every strength. Probably know what I look like naked just from my posture.”

Kaos closed his eyes. Not because of her words. But because of the way her truth hit harder than her jokes. And because hedidn’tknow what she looked like naked and this had his Rage boiling to avenge that ignorance, while his Lust sharpened the blade.

She breathed out slowly. “I talk too much when I’m nervous. You know that by now. But it’s not just nerves. You’re just… really hard to ignore.”