Page 52 of Sacrifice
"Must be exhausting. Always being ready for war."
"Better than being caught off guard." He pulls back as our food arrives. "Besides, some things are worth protecting."
"Some things?"
"Some people," he corrects, eyes on mine.
The intensity makes me look away, focusing on my noodles.
They're perfect—spicy, sweet, with just enough heat to make my eyes water.
Emil slides his water glass over without commenting, and I hate how that small gesture makes my chest tight.
"This was nice," I admit as we're finishing. "The food, I mean."
"Just the food?"
"Don't push it."
"Wouldn't dream of it." He signals for the check. "Though I notice you haven't threatened to kill me once tonight."
"The night's still young."
"Promises, promises."
Mrs. Suwannarat refuses his money three times before finally accepting, making him promise to come back soon.
She hugs me goodbye like we're old friends, whispering something in Thai that makes Emil's ears turn red.
"What did she say?" I ask once we're outside.
"Nothing important."
"Emil."
"She said she's happy I finally brought you. That she was starting to think you were imaginary."
"How long have you been talking about me?"
"Longer than I should have." He hands me the helmet. "Ready?"
The ride back to my apartment is slower, like he's trying to make it last.
I find myself relaxing against him, cheek pressed to his back, watching the city lights blur past.
His heartbeat is steady under my hands, and I realize I'm matching my breathing to his without meaning to.
This is dangerous—this comfort, this ease.
It's much safer when we're fighting.
He parks in visitor parking, cutting the engine.
The complex is quiet, most windows dark.
A few cars I don't recognize, but that's not unusual for a Friday night.
"I can walk myself up," I say, handing back the helmet.
