The road was empty again.
That should have felt safe.
Kairo drove slower this time, one hand on the wheel, the other resting loosely on Naya's thigh. The gesture was small, intimate, unspoken but it grounded them both. The city lights were far behind them now, swallowed by distance and rain.
Naya leaned back in the seat, eyes half-closed.
For the first time in days, her body was starting to feel the weight of exhaustion.
"You're hurt," Kairo said quietly.
She opened her eyes. "So are you."
He smiled faintly. "Occupational hazard."
Silence settled not awkward, not heavy. Comfortable. Earned.
She turned her head toward him, studying the strong line of his jaw, the bruise blooming beneath his cheekbone. Her fingers lifted, hovering before she touched him.
"Does it still hurt?" she asked.
He caught her hand gently, pressing her knuckles to his lips. "Only when I stop moving."
The world narrowed to that moment.
Two survivors.
Two heartbeats finally in rhythm.
The road curved sharply ahead.
And then..
Headlights.Too close.Too fast.
"Kairo—!"
The impact was sudden but controlled metal screaming, glass shattering, the car spinning before slamming into the guardrail. Airbags deployed with violent force. The world jolted, then went still.
Rain poured harder.
Kairo's ears rang as he forced his eyes open.
"Naya," he rasped. "Talk to me."
"I'm here," she said, voice shaken but steady. "I'm okay."
He reached for her, hands checking instinctively. A shallow cut along her temple. Blood!but not much. She winced as she moved her shoulder.
"You?" she asked, breath quickening.
"Bruised pride," he said. "Maybe cracked ribs."
They let out shaky laughs that dissolved into quiet relief.
Consequences.
Not deadly.
But undeniable.
Kairo rested his forehead against the steering wheel for a moment, then turned back to her. His hand cupped her face carefully, thumb brushing the blood away.
"I'm not losing you," he said firmly. "Not to enemies. Not to fear. Not to bad timing."
Her eyes softened.
"You won't," she said. "Because I'm not running anymore."
Sirens wailed faintly in the distance someone had seen the crash.
They stayed close, foreheads touching, breathing each other in.
Quiet intimacy in the wreckage.
Not broken.
Just shaken.
Somewhere in the shadows, plans adjusted again.
The rescue had consequences.
And this was only the first reminder that survival always demanded a price.