Static
It happens late.
That hour when the lair settles into a false quiet, when guards rotate and the walls stop listening so closely. Vale knows she shouldn't be wandering, but sleep never comes easily anymore. Not with pressure coiled under her skin like a held breath.
She finds Cager in the gym again.
Of course she does.
The room smells like sweat and metal. Cager has her hands wrapped, hair damp, shirt clinging in a way Vale very pointedly does not look at. She's hitting the bag with controlled violence, each strike precise, practiced, angry in a way she refuses to name.
Vale leans against the doorway. "You're going to break it."
Cager doesn't stop. "That's the idea."
Vale watches. The way Cager moves is hypnotic. Power without waste. Anger without chaos. It shouldn't be attractive. It absolutely is.
"You've been avoiding me," Vale says.
That gets her attention.
The bag stills. Cager exhales slowly, forehead resting against it. "I've been busy."
"That's not an answer."
Cager turns then. Her eyes drag over Vale in a way that feels intentional, dangerous. Like she's cataloguing everything she's trying not to want.
"You came here knowing I wouldn't lie to you," Cager says. "That's on you."
Vale pushes off the doorway, steps closer. Too close. Close enough to feel the heat coming off her. "Then don't lie. Tell me why you look at me like I'm a problem you don't want to solve."
Silence snaps between them.
Cager's jaw tightens. Her voice lowers. "You think you want the answer to that?"
Vale swallows. "I know I do."
That's when it changes.
Not dramatically. Not explosively.
Cager steps into Vale's space and stops. Doesn't touch her. Doesn't have to. The air itself feels charged, like static before a storm. Vale's breath catches despite herself.
"This," Cager says quietly, gesturing between them without moving her hands, "is exactly why I've been avoiding you."
Vale lifts her chin. "Because you're losing control?"
Cager's mouth twitches. "Because I don't want to."
The honesty lands harder than any insult ever could.
Vale's pulse thuds in her ears. "You boss me around like it doesn't mean anything."
"It does mean something," Cager snaps. Then softer, almost bitter, "That's the problem."
They're inches apart now. Vale can see the faint scar along Cager's collarbone. The way her throat moves when she swallows. She looks… human. Guard down in a way Vale hasn't seen before.
Vale reaches out before she overthinks it. Fingers brush Cager's wrist. Barely a touch.
Cager freezes.
The room feels like it might crack open.
"You should stop," Cager says, voice rough.
Vale doesn't pull away. "You don't sound convincing."
Cager's hand closes over Vale's wrist, not tight, not gentle. Controlled. Intentional. Her thumb presses into Vale's pulse, and the contact alone is enough to make Vale's knees feel weak.
"I am trying very hard not to cross a line," Cager murmurs. "Don't make this harder."
Vale's breath ghosts against her neck. "You're the one who taught me not to back down."
For half a second, Cager looks like she might give in. Like she might lean forward and let instinct win.
Instead, she releases Vale abruptly and steps back, running a hand through her hair.
"Get out," she says, not unkindly. "Before I forget why I shouldn't."
Vale doesn't move right away.
She smiles instead. Slow. Knowing.
"Goodnight, Cager."
She leaves with her pulse racing, skin buzzing, absolutely certain of one thing.
This wasn't a mistake.
It was a beginning.