The hospital felt like another world now.
Sterile walls. Soft beeping. Kind hands. Blank eyes.
But this—this was something else.
Felix's house was too quiet.
Not in a bad way. Just… different. The kind of quiet that makes you realize how loud everything else had been before.
No footsteps. No parents. No tunnels. No lies—at least not tonight.
Just me and Felix.
James was asleep in the next room. He'd been fighting a fever since we left the hospital, and finally crashed on the couch the second we got here. I'd offered to stay with him, but he mumbled something about "needing space" and pulled a blanket over his head.
So here I was.
With Felix.
He was still limping, bandages wrapping his ribs and thigh. But there was color in his face again. His voice had returned to its soft, sharp rhythm. His eyes were a little less haunted.
We sat on the floor of his bedroom, backs against the bed, a cup of untouched tea between us. Outside, the wind rustled through the trees. The windows were cracked slightly open, letting in the cool night air.
Neither of us said much for a while.
It wasn't uncomfortable. Just quiet.
"I thought I'd never come back here," he said finally, his voice low.
I looked at him. "Because of your dad?"
He nodded.
"There's a lot about this place that used to feel like home," he added. "Now I just see all the things he didn't say. All the things I missed."
I didn't know what to say.
So I didn't say anything.
Instead, I reached over and gently took his hand.
He didn't flinch.
He just let me hold it.
A few moments passed.
"You scared me," I whispered.
Felix looked at me, a shadow of guilt crossing his face. "When?"
"When you passed out. When you bled all over the ground like you were slipping away."
He looked down at our hands.
"I didn't want to die," he said.
"You didn't."
"Because of you."
That silence came again.
He turned his head to face me, eyes studying mine. For a second, it felt like time paused—like even the wind outside was holding its breath.
I moved to stand up, maybe to give us both space—but as I shifted, I lost balance and stumbled forward.
And our lips met.
Just for a second.
Just enough to make my heart stop.
I froze.
He froze.
And then I pulled back so fast I almost knocked over the tea.
"Oh—" I stammered. "I didn't mean to—I wasn't—I slipped—"
But Felix… he was smiling.
Softly. Gently.
"I know," he said. "But still."
His fingers brushed mine again, this time on purpose.
"You didn't pull away."
"I didn't have time to," I muttered, flustered.
"Right," he said, voice teasing. "Of course."
We were both blushing. And suddenly the room felt warmer.
The tension hung there like a fragile string—neither of us sure what it meant yet. Neither of us sure if it was a beginning or a beautiful mistake.
But I didn't leave.
And he didn't look away.
And that was enough for now.
The silence that followed the kiss wasn't awkward.
It was... still.
Like the world around us knew not to interrupt.
I sat back against the bedframe, knees pulled to my chest, trying to calm my heartbeat. Felix hadn't moved far either—his gaze still softly fixed on me, like he was trying to memorize the look on my face.
He finally spoke.
"I don't think that was a mistake."
I looked at him. "But it wasn't planned."
"Most important things aren't."
I didn't know how to answer that.
So I just stared at the cup between us—the one we never drank from. The tea had gone cold.
"I've never felt like this before," I admitted. "Not like this. Not this fast. It's confusing."
Felix leaned his head back against the bed, closing his eyes for a moment. "I think I started falling for you when you threatened to punch me in the tunnels."
I blinked. "That's weird."
He laughed—soft, tired. "A little. But you weren't scared. You challenged me when everyone else was following. You made me want to be honest again."
I was quiet for a long moment. Then, almost reluctantly, I said, "I hated you."
"I know," he said, smiling a little. "You were good at it."
"But now I hate that I don't."
His smile faded—not out of hurt, but understanding.
"I didn't want to hurt you," he said quietly. "Or James. I thought if I could carry it all myself, if I could keep it quiet, maybe no one else would get dragged in."
"You tried to protect us," I whispered.
He nodded.
"But you forgot one thing, Felix."
"What?"
"We're not meant to survive this alone."
He looked at me again, and this time... he looked tired. Not physically. Emotionally. Like he'd been holding onto everything with bare, bleeding hands, and was finally ready to let someone else carry some of it.
"I don't know how to be with someone," he said honestly. "I'm not used to people staying."
"I don't know either," I said. "But I'm here. And I'm not going anywhere."
That's when he leaned closer—not fast, not desperate. Just enough to close the space between us. And when he kissed me again, it wasn't accidental.
It was quiet.
And real.
I didn't pull away.
Neither did he.
When we finally separated, our foreheads touched.
His voice was barely a whisper. "You make me feel like I'm not broken."
"You never were," I whispered back. "You just needed someone to remind you."
We didn't say anything else.
We stayed there, hands entwined, listening to the faint ticking of the clock and James's soft breathing in the other room.
It was peaceful in a way we hadn't felt in weeks. And though the world outside still held secrets and dangers—
—for that night, it was just me and Felix.
And for once, that was enough.
The sunlight filtered in slowly through the half-drawn curtains.
It painted warm golden lines across the wooden floor, over the discarded blanket at our feet, and onto the curve of Felix's shoulder as he stirred beside me. We hadn't moved from the floor—not really. At some point, I think we both dozed off. My head had slipped onto his shoulder, and now his arm rested across my back like it belonged there.
And it didn't feel strange.
It didn't feel wrong.
For the first time in a long time, I woke up without fear trailing behind me like a shadow.
I blinked up at him.
His eyes were still closed, but there was a softness to his expression that made him look… younger. Less guarded. Like the weight he carried had finally lightened, even if just a little.
I shifted slightly, careful not to wake him.
But he spoke before I could move.
"Don't go."
His voice was hoarse from sleep, barely audible.
"I'm not," I whispered, leaning back slightly so I could see his face.
His eyes opened slowly, blinking at the soft morning light, and then they settled on me.
"Good," he murmured. "I like this."
I smiled. "What? Sleeping on the floor and waking up sore?"
"No," he said, voice steadier now. "Waking up next to you."
I blushed before I could stop myself and glanced away, heart thudding like a drum. "You're getting better at saying things like that."
Felix grinned. "You make it easier."
The room was quiet for a beat.
Then he added, "What happens now?"
I sat up slowly, pulling my knees to my chest. "With us?"
He nodded.
I thought for a moment. "We keep going. We keep fighting. But maybe this time, we don't hide from each other."
He leaned against the side of the bed, watching me. "No secrets?"
I looked at him. "No more secrets."
He nodded once, a silent promise passing between us.
Then his expression changed. "Do you think James knows?"
I sighed. "He's not dumb."
Felix laughed under his breath. "Yeah. I'm guessing we've got about ten minutes before he kicks open the door and demands answers."
"Let him," I said. "We'll tell him."
"Together?"
I smiled. "Yeah. Together."
There was a quiet knock at the door right then, as if on cue.
Felix and I exchanged a look.
"I told you," I whispered, biting back a grin.
The door creaked open a second later, and James poked his head in, his hair messy and eyes heavy with sleep.
He looked at the two of us sitting there, way too close and way too quiet.
And froze.
"Oh," he said.
Felix cleared his throat awkwardly. "Morning."
James looked between us, one eyebrow raised. "Seriously?"
I opened my mouth to respond, but he just lifted his hand.
"Don't say anything yet. I need coffee before you hit me with whatever this is."
Then he turned and walked away.
We both burst out laughing the second the door clicked shut.
Felix looked at me, eyes soft. "I'm glad it's you."
I leaned my head on his shoulder again, heart warm. "I'm glad it's you too."
Later that evening, I found myself alone in the hallway. The soft buzz of the heater hummed low through the walls. Felix was in the living room going through maps, and I'd stepped out for some quiet.
That's when James appeared beside me.
He leaned on the opposite wall, arms crossed.
"You like him," he said.
It wasn't a question.
I blinked. "What?"
He looked at me. "Felix."
"James—"
"I'm not mad," he interrupted, voice calm. "I just… I see it. The way you look at him now. The way he looks at you."
I didn't say anything at first.
Because how could I explain it?
How could I explain the way everything between me and Felix had shifted? That it wasn't just about the mission anymore—or survival—or revenge. It was something else now. Something I hadn't planned for.
James finally spoke again. "He hurt us, Rosa. Lied. And you hated him for it."
"I know," I said quietly.
"So why are you forgiving him now?"
I looked down. "Because he told the truth when it mattered most. Because he bled for us. For me. Because when everything went wrong… he stayed."
James let that sit for a moment. Then he sighed and stepped closer.
"You know I'd die before letting anyone hurt you, right?"
"I know."
"But I also know you're not the same girl who stormed into this mission with fists clenched and walls up."
I glanced up at him.
"You're softer now," James said. "Not weaker. Just… braver in a different way."
I tried to hold back the emotion that caught in my throat. "You sound like Dad."
James gave me a crooked smile. "Someone has to."
Then he bumped his shoulder against mine. "If he breaks your heart, I break his nose."
I laughed through the sting in my eyes. "Fair deal."
We stood there a while longer, just brother and sister, quiet in the storm that hadn't quite reached us yet.
And I was grateful—for the calm, for his honesty, for the fact that even as everything changed… some things stayed the same.