The body was still on the floor.
The blood hadn't even dried.
Sirens weren't blaring yet, but they would be. Someone would've heard something. The security team—if any of them were still alive—would be coming. The clock was ticking, every second dragging a fresh dose of panic behind it.
Lilly paced like a caged wolf. Gun in her hand. Jaw clenched.
Sam sat on the staircase, bare legs pulled close to her chest, a smear of someone else's blood on her cheek.
She hadn't said a word since she cried into Lilly's shoulder.
Now she just stared at the floor, like it had answers she hadn't earned.
"We need to move," Lilly said. "Now. Before they send cleanup. Before Athena realizes she failed."
Sam's voice was quiet. Hollow. "You mean my father's people."
Lilly looked away.
It was true. Every alarm bell was ringing inside her.
She was off mission. She was compromised. And worst of all—she didn't care.
"You got somewhere safe?" Sam asked suddenly, standing.
Lilly blinked. "I have ten. But none are built for staying long."
"Doesn't matter." Sam's voice steadied. "We run."
Lilly stared at her.
This was the part where she should've said no. Should've told Sam she was safer staying. That running would make her a fugitive too. That they didn't even know the full plan yet.
Instead?
She nodded.
Sam smiled—small, but real. "God, you're terrible at saying no to me."
"You never ask nicely."
"You like that."
Lilly did. Too much.
One hour later.
The city swallowed them whole. Motorcycle helmets. A go-bag. Sam wearing one of Lilly's leather jackets like it was hers now. Lilly's bloodied hoodie ditched. Her gun hidden, but close.
They ditched the car at a forgotten warehouse near the waterfront. The kind of place no one visited unless they were making a deal or dumping a body.
Inside, it was cold. Empty. Echoing with past sins.
Lilly checked the corners. The cameras. Traps. Then double-checked.
Sam just watched her. Quietly. Thoughtfully. Like she was memorizing each motion, cataloguing every muscle twitch.
And then she said it.
"Why me?"
Lilly froze.
"What?"
Sam stepped closer. "You've been trained not to get attached. I know that. I've read the files. Seen what your people do. So why me?"
Lilly didn't speak for a second.
Then another.
Then she said, "Because you laugh like it might break you. Because you look at the world like it owes you answers and you're brave enough to ask. Because when I stood next to you, I didn't feel invisible anymore."
Silence.
Thick. Heavy.
Then Sam was in front of her.
Close. Too close.
The air between them was fragile. Charged. Like a storm waiting for the first lightning strike.
"We could die tomorrow," Sam whispered. "Or tonight."
"I know."
"Then kiss me like it's the last thing you'll ever do."
And Lilly did.
Fierce. Desperate. With a hunger like confession and a sweetness that hurt. Fingers in hair. Hands on skin. Armor cracking, falling, forgotten on the cold floor of the safe house.
No more lies.
No more distance.
Just mouths and breath and all the words they'd been too scared to say written in the way they held each other like the world was already burning.