Page 148 of Eternal

AZRA

“I Should be Happy” Miercoles

Present

T he bed is too warm, or maybe it’s just me.

His arm is draped around my waist softly keeping me there.

I should sleep. I want to sleep.

But my mind’s too loud, and my heart won’t settle.

I reach over slowly and slide my phone from under the book on the nightstand, careful not to wake him. The glow blinds me for a second. One notification.

Brian

Found something. You’ll want to sit for this.

His name’s not Luxis. That was the code name.

“L.S.” stands for Ryad Shiraz. FBI file.

Buried deep. Ex-agent. Disappeared seven years ago.

Nearly everything redacted. I got a face.

Ran a match. He’s alive. But he’s dying.

Terminal cancer. He’s in a Vegas hospital.

Long-term unit. I hacked the system. No visitors.

No alerts. If you want answers, this is your chance. Be careful Voron.

I read it again. And again. The name sticks to the walls of my chest. Ryad Shiraz. Alive. And dying.

I turn the screen off. The dark feels scarier now. I slowly roll onto my side, careful not to pull the blanket too hard, and look at him.

He’s asleep, calm, brow relaxed, breath slow and even. It almost feels wrong that I get to have this. My fingers move before I can stop them. I trace the shape of his cheekbone with the back of my hand, gentle. He doesn’t stir.

How is he still here?

How hasn’t he run?

After everything I told him, after everything he’s seen, he still holds me like I’m worth something. Like I’m not cracked and leaking ugliness, like I deserve softness.

I don’t think anyone has ever looked at me like that before. Not without wanting something in return. I blink, and a tear slips down the bridge of my nose. I don’t know why, I can’t even name the emotion right now. It’s not sadness, it’s not grief, it’s everything all at once.

He shifts suddenly, still deep in sleep, and instinctively pulls me closer, his arm tightening around my ribs like his body’s been trained to find mine. His forehead presses against my shoulder, like a reflex, like he knows when I’m slipping away.

And I let myself breathe.

Tomorrow. I’ll go tomorrow.

But tonight, I will stay here, in this bed, in this warmth, in these arms.

Safe.