The rain had turned the city into glass.
Elias stared at the windows of his flower shop, the light behind him casting a soft glow on the floor. Everything outside shimmered in the storm. Inside, it was quiet—too quiet. His heart had been thudding for hours.
She hadn't shown up.
Not since last night, when she told him she had "business." Her version of that word never meant anything safe.
Then, as if summoned by worry itself, the door pushed open.
Selena stood there—soaked, limping, blood seeping through the side of her coat.
"Selena!"
He ran to her, panic rising in his chest.
She didn't collapse, but she leaned on him heavily. "Hey," she breathed, weakly. "Don't panic."
"You're bleeding."
"I've had worse."
He helped her to the back room, where the familiar scent of damp soil and lilies filled the space. She sat on the bench, eyes glazed with pain.
"Lift your shirt," Elias said, grabbing the first-aid kit.
Selena smirked despite her fatigue. "Forward."
"You're bleeding, Selena."
"I know."
She unzipped her coat and lifted her dark bodysuit just enough to reveal the gash across her ribs—angry, red, and deep.
Elias swallowed. She was so human like this—bruised, bloody, and quiet.
He cleaned the wound carefully. She winced, but said nothing.
"You were fighting Corvus, weren't you?"
Her eyes met his. "He brought you into it."
Elias looked down. "Why does he want me?"
"To get to me," she answered softly. "And maybe because you're… good."
That made his stomach twist.
"You don't have to protect me."
"I will protect you," she said, voice firm.
The silence that followed was heavy. Charged.
Elias finished wrapping the bandage, and as he started to step back, Selena caught his wrist.
He froze.
Her fingers were cold, but her gaze burned.
"I thought about you all night," she said.
"Selena—"
"I could've died."
"But you didn't."
"I thought… if I did, and I never told you…" Her voice trailed off.
She stood, inching closer, until he could feel the heat of her body against his.
"You make me feel like I'm not just a monster," she whispered. "That's new for me."
Her hand cupped his jaw, thumb brushing his cheekbone.
He didn't move.
Her face was so close now. Lips parted. Breath trembling.
She leaned in—slowly, almost cautiously, like asking permission without words.
And just before their lips touched…
Elias turned his face away.
Selena froze.
"I'm sorry," he said, voice shaking. "If anyone ever hurt my family… I couldn't live with it."
She pulled back. Not angry. Not offended. Just quiet.
"I understand."
Elias looked at her then—really looked. She was exhausted. Broken in places he couldn't yet understand.
And yet… she stayed.
Later, they sat in silence. A cup of tea steamed between them, untouched.
"Why me?" Elias finally asked.
Selena didn't answer right away. Then: "Because you remind me there's something worth saving in me."
He stared into the tea.
"I don't know if I'm ready," he admitted.
"You don't have to be," she said. "I'll wait."
She rose to leave, her coat slung over one shoulder, blood still dark on the fabric.
"Selena," he called before she reached the door.
She turned.
He hesitated. Then: "Just… come back safe."
She nodded once. "I always do."
Then she was gone, swallowed by the storm.
But somewhere in the shadows, eyes watched her leave—and the red glow of a camera's lens blinked once before disappearing.