Page 109 of Veil of Dust

“Then what are you?”

I reach out and touch her cheek. Just a thumb. Just a graze.

“A man who’s tired of bleeding alone.”

Her mouth twitches. Not quite a smile. Not quite pain.

“Don’t make this mean more than it can carry,” she whispers.

“I’m not.”

I move in.

She doesn’t flinch.

Our mouths meet—firm and searching. It’s not rough, not hungry. It’s… sure.

Like we’ve already said everything.

Her fingers curl around the collar of my shirt. My hand slides to the back of her neck.

We kiss like we’ve earned it. Like it’s the only thing that’s ever made sense.

When we break, she rests her forehead against mine. Her breath tickles my lips.

“This doesn’t mean it’s fixed,” she murmurs.

“I wouldn’t want it if it was easy.”

She pulls back a little, studies my face. “You’re serious.”

I nod. “About you? Always.”

She leans in again. A softer kiss this time—just a press of lips, a hum between us.

Then she steps back.

“I’m not running,” she says.

“I know.”

“And I’m not yours.”

“Not yet.”

That earns the tiniest eye roll. She shakes her head, then lets out a quiet laugh. “You really don’t stop.”

“Not when I want something.”

“And you want me?”

My eyes don’t leave hers. “Every version.”

She looks away for a second, toward the skyline.

Then, quietly, “It’s terrifying how much I believe you.”

I wait.

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