Page 35 of Eternal

DAMIR

“Wicked Game” by Chris Isaac

Present

S ometimes, she feels like someone else.

She said she could get off the bike on her own when I reached out to help, but she still let me grab her hand.

Why am I even bothering?

I was pissed about her injury, I should’ve stayed focused on the job, but all I could think about was making sure she didn’t get worse.

She’s a mission. Always will be.

But when she looked at me on that bench, the city sprawled beneath us, something shifted.

I burned their bodies. They were already dead, but when I saw the blood on her cheek, it didn’t feel finished.

She’s a mission. But she’s starting to feel like more than that.

We sat there, and she pulled her knees up, smiling softly at the view. Her smile felt off. Maybe she’d lost too much blood.

I think she had.

But then I followed her gaze. The city looked like a million immobile fireworks, the night sky the same. It had been a while since I simply sat somewhere and breathed.

I glanced back at her again as she took a bite of her burrito, her eyes narrowing like she was lost in thought. The usual hard layer of malice was still there, but the vulnerability from earlier had softened her a little.

“You know Katarina’s going to take care of you, right?” I said casually, watching her chew. “She knows about the injury. She’s already making plans.”

She froze mid-bite, her eyes wide as she looked at me.

She really looked cute, all scared like that because someone wanted to take care of her. “ Did you … did you tell her?”

I couldn’t help but laugh at her reaction. “You really think I wouldn’t? She’s your best friend. When Viktor called and threatened me about you getting hurt, she screamed at me to bring you food and take you home, then she’d wait for you there.”

Her hand paused at her mouth, and she sighed dramatically. “Oh god, she’s gonna babysit me for weeks now, isn’t she?”

I chuckled, leaning back. “I’ll come visit to save you from her, if you want.”

She shook her head, muttering under her breath as she took another bite. “This is worse than being stuck with you. I can’t believe she already knows. That’s it, I’m doomed.”

I laughed again, watching her shake her head in defeat. “You should be grateful. She’s only looking out for you.”

She rolled her eyes, taking another bite. “You have no idea. If Kat gets her hands on me, it’s gonna be soup, blankets, and ten thousand check-ins, and a zero training policy.”

“Sounds like you need exactly that,” I said, grinning. “You don’t take care of yourself.”

“I do take care of myself,” she snapped, then paused. “In my own way.”

I smirked, watching her eat. There was something oddly… tender about her like this. Normally, she was always so closed off and almost cold, or even insolent and arrogant in a way, provocative.

But here she was, having a normal, unguarded moment with me. “So, what, you think I should come by and make sure you eat enough too?” I asked to mess with her.

Not that I’d be closed off from this idea.

You’re not thinking straight, Damir.

She gave me a deadpan look. “If you want me to survive, sure.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Don’t get used to me checking in on you.”

“I won’t,” she said with a small smile, clearly not taking me seriously. “You should’ve never told them about the injury.”

I leaned back on the bench, thinking about the whole situation, “You could always just, you know, not get hurt next time.”

“I’ll try.”

We ate in silence for a while, the only sound was the occasional crunch of her burrito as she took another bite. My gaze kept drifting to her, though.

It wasn’t only the way she ate. She was… different tonight.

Vulnerable, in a way I wasn’t used to seeing.

I kept thinking back to earlier, how she’d fainted in my arms, her skin burning under my touch, and how I had to carefully lay her down, trying not to show the worry that clawed at me.

I’d touched her skin without even thinking about it, feeling her pulse under my fingertips.

And that moment on the bike... when I’d caressed her hand, guiding it back to my waist. I hadn’t understood why I did it then, but now, as I watched her, I realized it was like I couldn’t help myself.

There was something about the way she made me feel.

Something that had nothing to do with the job I was sent to do.

She was supposed to be the enemy, and I was supposed to end her.

But looking at her now, sitting there so carelessly, chewing the burrito like it was the most normal thing, I couldn’t stop thinking about how she looked so damn real . I couldn’t stop looking at her eyes either. One a sharp green, the other a pale, almost ethereal blue.

They pulled me in, entranced me. I was never the kind to get attached to my targets. They were just files, just names, nothing real. But she actually feels like the most real thing I’ve ever confronted.

And that’s the problem.

I’m not supposed to feel this way. I’m not supposed to care.

I don’t know when it started, when I started seeing her as something more than a name. Maybe it was when I caught the blood on her cheek, or when her eyes met mine with that defiance, like she knew what I was, what I was sent to do.

But whatever it is, it’s fucking dangerous.

I’m complaining about it, and yet, here I am, sitting beside her, feeling something I’ve never felt for anyone.

A fucking human instinct, maybe. Something like... concern .

It’s pathetic. But it’s there. And I can’t shake it.

I stared at her, taking in her every movement, every small shift in expression. I could feel my heart beating a little faster with each passing second, and I hated it, but I didn’t stop.

“This place is pretty,” she said, looking around. “Calm, too.”

Yeah it’s pretty. She’s pretty.

It was peaceful up here, away from the noise of the city. I leaned back a little, then said, “Well, we could come here after every mission. Eat and rest. No one would bother us.”

She held my stare for a long second before nodding. “Okay. I like that idea.”

The words hit me harder than I expected, and for a moment, I froze. She… she actually wanted to spend time with me? That wasn’t part of the plan, none of this was.

I tried to cover it up, but my voice faltered a little. “Wait, you want to spend time with me?”

She looked at me like I was an idiot. “Yeah. Why are you so surprised?”

I scoffed, a dry laugh escaping me. “I thought you hated me.”

She smiled, but it wasn’t a teasing one. It was softer than usual, something almost… affectionate.

“I don’t hate you. I don’t trust you. That’s different.”

Fair enough, she had every reason not to.

“Not that I like you either,” she said, taking another bite of her burrito. “It’s somewhere in between.”

“In between what?” I asked, but it was more for myself than for her.

She shrugged, not looking up. “Not liking. Not hating.”

“Why can’t you just say you like me?” I asked, watching her pick at her food like a tormented kid.

She paused, chewing slowly, before meeting my eyes, with the same detachment she always has when it comes to talking about something too emotional for her liking.

“Why should I?”

I leaned back, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t think liking someone means anything?” I asked, probing.

She shrugged, eyes dropping back to her food. “People always wanted me to like them,” she muttered. “Smiled at me. Promised things. Said the right words. But it always came with something. A price. A rule. A leash.”

What did the world do to you, Voron?

“You really think liking someone is only about a price?” I pressed, trying to understand her.

She shrugged again, “I used to,” she said quietly. “Then I figured out some people simply love being liked. That’s not the same.” Another bite, then, barely above a whisper, “The regret, the anger... it wasn’t worth my affection.”

How does someone carry that much pain and still look detached?

I don’t even think she realizes how much it still lives in her. Or maybe she does, and that’s the worst part. No one gets that kind of quiet without bleeding for it first.

“They were dumb for hurting you, partner.”

A laugh followed, cold, short, nothing special. But it reached her eyes. For a moment, the detachment slipped. “Probably.”

I watched her as she ate slowly, her gaze drifting between the half-finished food and the city lights.

She had this way of being there, but not really. Like some part of her had never left wherever she’d last been hurt.

How interesting is she?

“You look pretty cute when you eat,” I said, almost without thinking.

She looked up at me, pretty eyes narrowing slightly. I couldn’t tell if it was irritation or amusement. Either way, she nudged me with her shoulder before pushing me away with her hand.

“Don’t make me regret letting you sit here,” she said, shaking her head, but there was a softness in her voice that wasn’t lost on me.

I leaned back, smiling. “I’m just saying.”

She snorted. “You need to stop, Damir.”

I loved the way she said my name. It’s been so long since I’ve heard it. So long I almost forgot it.

I barely glanced at her, the corner of my mouth twitching. “You’re cute. Don’t make me say it again.”

Then I took a bite of my burrito, eyes still on the city.

We’re finally talking without the usual intense cautiousness. Is she letting me in? I hope so.

“You really don’t smile much,” I said, setting my burrito down. Why the hell am I asking? I don’t even know anymore. At this point, I’m not trying to understand anything about how I act around her. She’s an anomaly. And I’m a victim of it. “Is that how it always is?”

She shrugged, not looking at me. “You don’t smile much either. What’s there to smile about?”

I wasn’t expecting that. I could guess some reasons, but... maybe it’s better not to ask. Not yet at least.

“True,” I said, finishing the last bite of my burrito. “But you could always talk to your partner about it.”

She shifted; her body still angled away from me. “I don’t do that.”