Page 17

Reaching out, I almost touch his hand before pulling back. “We start small. We find others. We… we show them what it’s like to feel again.”

Myall’s eyes meet mine, and I see a hint of something—hope, maybe? Or is it just my own emotions, amplified and projected onto him?

“Do you really think we can do this, Ziva,” he murmurs, but I can hear the wavering in his voice.

“I can’t keep living half a life,” I counter softly.

For a long moment, we just stare at each other. I can feel my heart pounding, my palms sweating. With my malfunctioning NeuroMod, every emotion is so raw, so intense.

Does Myall feel even a fraction of this?

“I want to experience it all,” I admit, my voice barely audible. “The highs, the lows. Everything.”

Myall swallows hard. “Even if it hurts?”

I nod, feeling suddenly vulnerable. “Especially then. Because at least then I know I’m alive.”

Grandma Elara clears her throat, startling me. I hadn’t realized how close Myall and I had gotten, lost in our conversation. She’s moved to stand in the doorway, her eyes twinkling with an understanding that makes my cheeks flush. Myall and I both stand abruptly.

“Myall, dear,” she says, her voice gentle but firm. “Would you mind fetching some herbs from the garden? I’d like to make us all some tea and I have none left in the kitchen.”

Myall nods, seemingly oblivious to Elara’s motives. As he leaves, Elara turns to me, her warm eyes searching my face. “Ziva, come sit with me for a moment.”

My heart races, each beat echoing in my ears like a drum, the air around me thick with unspoken words as I take a seat on the worn sofa once more. What if she disapproves of my outburst? I twist my hands in my lap, trying to calm my racing thoughts.

“You know,” Elara begins, her voice soft and melodic, “there was a time when people didn’t hide their feelings. When love wasn’t something to be feared or regulated.”

I look up sharply. “Love?” The word feels foreign on my tongue.

Elara smiles, reaching out to pat my hand. “Connection, dear. The spark between two people that lights up the world around them.”

“But it’s dangerous,” I whisper, echoing Myall’s earlier words.

“Oh, it’s always been dangerous,” Elara chuckles. “But it’s also the most powerful force in the universe. It’s what makes life worth living.”

Tears prick at my eyes. “How can you be so sure?”

“I’ve lived it, Ziva. Felt love, loss—everything in between. And I wouldn’t trade any of it for all the ‘harmony’ in the world.”

Her words sink into me, resonating with something deep inside. “But what if… what if he doesn’t feel the same?” I ask, finally voicing my deepest fear. Elara looks at me patiently, waiting for me to continue.

A deep breath steadies me, and I steel myself to confide in Elara. “I’m so confused,” I admit. “These feelings, they’re overwhelming. One moment I’m elated, the next I’m terrified or angry. Is this… normal?”

Elara’s eyes crinkle with understanding. “Oh, my sweet girl. That’s the beautiful chaos of emotions. It’s perfectly normal, especially when you’re experiencing them so intensely for the first time and don’t know how to process them.”

I nod, grateful for her reassurance. But there’s more gnawing at me. “It’s not just that. I’m scared of what these feelings mean for starting a rebellion. What if they cloud my judgment? What if they put us all at risk?”

A wave of conflicting emotions crashes over me as I speak. My chest tightens with the realization of how deep my feelings for Myall have become in such a short amount of time.

“I want to fight for our freedom,” I continue, my voice trembling slightly. “But now, when I think about the dangers we face, I’m not just worried about myself. The thought of anything happening to Myall…” I trail off, unable to finish the sentence.

A war rages inside me—desire clashes with fear, each side pulling at my heartstrings, as I ponder the weight of what it means to care for someone this intently versus the reality of starting a rebellion.

Elara takes my hand, her touch both comforting and grounding. “Ziva, love doesn’t weaken our resolve. It strengthens it. It gives us something to fight for.”

Elara’s voice carries a soothing rhythm, each word wrapping around me like a blanket, coaxing my fears into submission. I meet her gaze, searching for answers. “But how do I balance this? How do I keep my head clear when my heart is so…full?”

Elara’s eyes twinkle with a knowing glint as the sound of the back door closing reaches us. She pats my hand gently and rises from the sofa. “You know, I think I’ll go ready that tea now. Why don’t you two chat for a moment while I prepare it?”

As she shuffles out of the room, I catch a hint of a smile playing on her lips. My suspicions are confirmed—she’s giving us space on purpose. Myall, oblivious to his grandmother’s scheming, turns to me, his eyebrows drawn together.

“Are you alright?” he asks. He reaches out, fingers hovering over my arm, as if waiting for permission to touch me, his voice is low and filled with concern as he takes a seat beside me.

I nod. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… processing a lot.”

Myall shifts closer, his knee brushing mine, sending a jolt through me that threatens my composure. “I know what you mean,” he says. “Sometimes it feels like we’re carrying the weight of the world on our shoulders.”

Looking into his eyes, I see the same mixture of determination and vulnerability I feel. Without thinking, I reach out, my fingers brushing against his, and his hand envelops mine, warm and reassuring.

“We’re in this together,” I whisper, the words barely escaping my trembling lips.

Myall nods, his thumb tracing small circles on the back of my hand. I lean in, drawn by an invisible force, and rest my forehead against his. We stay like that, the rhythm of our breaths a quiet bond between us. I close my eyes, savoring the closeness.

When I open my eyes, Myall is looking at me with an intensity that takes my breath away.

Our eyes lock, and in that shared gaze, a thousand unspoken words hang between us, weaving a tapestry of hope and fear that threatens to unravel with the slightest touch.

Slowly, hesitantly, he raises his free hand to cup my cheek.

I lean into his touch, my skin tingling where his fingers make contact.

This is madness. Beautiful, terrifying madness. And still, I can’t bring myself to pull away.

The full weight of my feelings for Myall crashes over me like a tidal wave. It’s exhilarating and terrifying all at once. I’ve never felt anything this intense before. I glance at Myall, my resolve hardening. This isn’t just about us anymore—it’s about everyone silenced by The Authority.

“Myall,” I say softly, my voice trembling as I pull away from him. “I…I think I’m falling for you.”

His eyes widen, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before it’s replaced by a warmth that makes my heart soar. “Ziva, I—”

I press a finger to his lips, silencing him. “Wait. Before you say anything, I need you to know something. It’s okay if your feelings don’t match mine, or at least not to the same degree. This… us… it changes everything. It makes our fight even more dangerous, but also more important than ever.”

Myall nods, his gaze never leaving mine. I take a deep breath and continue, “We can’t fight for ourselves alone anymore, can we? We have to fight for everyone robbed of the chance to feel this way.”

He meets my gaze, and in his eyes, I see the same mix of resolve and uncertainty that’s been swirling inside me. We’ve made our choice. It’s not just about us anymore. But the weight of it presses on me. I wish we could hold onto this connection, just a little longer.

But the rebellion waits for no one.

“That’s why we need to put these feelings aside.” The words taste bitter on my tongue, but they’re necessary. We can’t afford distractions now.

Myall nods, a tense muscle twitching in his jaw.

“Our focus needs to be the rebellion, finding a way to break the cycle so we can create a better future for ourselves. Only then can we think about…whatever this is growing between us.”

“You’re right,” he says slowly. “The fight comes first.”

Relief floods through me. “Okay,” I breathe, “but where do we even start with this rebellion?”

Myall rubs the back of his neck. “I guess…we need to expand our rebellion. Find others who share our beliefs.”

I nod eagerly, my mind already planning possibilities. “Yeah. And I think I know where to start with that. We need to find someone who can help me replicate the glitch in my NeuroMod. If we can do that—”

“We could free everyone,” Myall finishes, a hint of excitement in his eyes before it’s washed away.

And I will finally know if you feel the same towards me, without your NeuroMod.

Squeezing his hand, I feel more determined than ever. “Are you with me? No matter how dangerous this is going to get?”

Myall leans in, pressing his forehead against mine once more. “I am,” he promises. “We’re in this together, now. Until the very end.”

His warmth radiates against me, a silent promise that we are not alone in this fight.

Grandma Elara returns, clearing her throat, a tray of tea in hand. My cheeks flush as Myall and I quickly create distance between us on the sofa.

“Tea anyone?” she asks, placing the tray on the small coffee table in front of us.

* * *

As we step outside, the cool evening air hits my face, a harsh reality to the warmth of Elara’s home and carrying with it the artificial scent of regulated purity that permeates our city.

I turn to Myall, my heart beating with a newfound excitement I’m still getting used to.

“Same time next week?” I ask, trying to keep my voice casual despite the flutter in my chest.

A small smile plays at the corners of his mouth. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Grandma’s stories are always…enlightening.”

“They’re more than that,” I say, my voice dropping to a whisper. “They’re a window into a world we’ve been denied. A world I want to fight for.”

We start walking toward the maglev station, our footsteps echoing in the eerily quiet streets. The silence between us is comfortable, filled with an unspoken understanding and shared purpose.

As we walk—Myall’s hand brushing mine again—I’m overwhelmed by a rush of emotion that almost stops me in my tracks. The connection with Myall, with Grandma Elara, it’s changing me. I’m not just a cog in The Harmonization Authority anymore. I’m becoming something more.

“You know,” I say, “a week or two ago, I couldn’t have imagined feeling this way. About anything. Or anyone.”

Myall’s hand brushes against mine once more, a gesture so subtle it could be mistaken for accidental. But I know better.

“Neither could I,” he admits. “It’s…strange.”

Turbulent emotions swirl within me as I glance at the gray buildings looming around us. “We’re going to change this world, Myall. One person at a time if we have to.”

As we near the point where we’ll part ways, a pang of reluctance twists in my chest. I turn to him, meeting his gaze in the dim light.

“I guess I’ll see you at work tomorrow,” I say, my voice filled with reluctance.

He nods, his expression mirroring my own. “Yeah. Goodnight, Ziva.”

“Goodnight, Myall.”

Standing there, I watch him disappear into the maglev station, the air cool against my skin as my mind formulates plans—each one more daring than the last.

We need to be smart about this.

My fingers brush the outline of my malfunctioning NeuroMod through my pocket. I know I should be wearing it, especially with my wrist exposed, but the relief of not having it on is almost too great. My thoughts drift back to everything we discussed in Elara’s home.

We need to find the right people. People who question, who wonder…

A group of Authority Enforcers walks by on their evening patrol. I force my expression remain neutral, but my pulse quickens.

Fuck, why didn’t I wear my NeuroMod? I’m such an idiot.

Keeping my eyes trained on them as they turn the corner, I exhale sharply when they’re finally out of sight.

I’ll wear it in public from now on. Always. Just to be safe.

Entering my building’s complex, I mentally begin to catalog potential allies.

There’s Marcus from the tech division at work. He always asks too many questions.

I stop at my door, hand poised over the biometric scanner. But how do we approach them without raising suspicion? One wrong move and we could end up in a detention center.

The thought sends a shiver down my spine, but it’s quickly replaced by a rush of determination. For the first time, I’m not afraid of what the future holds.