Jomiloju's POV
We ran until the city blurred behind us, traded firelight for shadows, traded death for the promise of a room with no screams.
Steve drove us to a place outside Lagos—somewhere nameless. A safehouse tucked beneath a weathered church compound. A priest who owed him silence let us in through the back gate. No questions. Just keys. A heavy door. A lock that clicked behind us like a final exhale.
I didn't know what I expected after the blood and fire.
But I didn't expect this.
Softness.
A worn mattress.
Sheets that smelled like time.
And Steve, sitting in the corner, shoulders hunched, gun in his lap, staring at the wall like he was waiting for it to bleed.
Steve's POV
I couldn't look at her.
Not right away.
Not after what she'd done.
She killed a man.
To save me.
And she didn't flinch.
I should've felt pride.
But I felt something worse.
Responsibility.
She was fire before I met her—but I made her burn brighter. Burn deadlier.
And now, every step we took was one step deeper into a world I'd spent my whole life trying to climb out of.
She knelt in front of me.
Her hand reached for mine.
But I pulled away.
"I need you to stop looking at me like that," I muttered.
"Like what?" she asked.
"Like I'm still a man."
She didn't move.
"I'm not looking at a man," she whispered. "I'm looking at mine."
Jomiloju's POV
I rose to my feet slowly.
Walked to the edge of the bed.
Pulled off the soot-stained hoodie I'd stolen from Steve's bag.
Tossed it aside.
I didn't say anything.
Just stood there in my tank top and jeans, bruised and raw, waiting for him to see me.
He did.
I watched it break him.
The rise of his throat.
The clench of his jaw.
The storm in his chest held together by nothing but guilt and thread.
"Come here," I said.
He didn't move.
"Steve."
Still nothing.
So I crossed the room, placed my hands on his cheeks, and whispered, "You saved me, even when I didn't want to be saved. Now let me return the favor."
Steve's POV
I don't know what happened next.
Only that the gun dropped from my hand.
And I followed her to the bed like a soldier surrendering to a ghost.
She didn't touch me like I was broken.
She didn't touch me like I was dangerous.
She touched me like I was tired.
And I was.
God, I was.
We lay there in silence.
Fully clothed.
No kiss.
No moan.
Just her fingers tracing the scar along my ribs.
The one I got when I was seventeen, protecting a boy who would later sell me out.
"You still believe there's light in me?" I asked.
She didn't answer.
She just curled against my chest, hand slipping beneath my shirt, resting over my heart.
It beat harder.
For her.
Only for her.
Jomiloju's POV
Sometime after midnight, I woke to find him staring at the ceiling.
"I thought you were asleep," I whispered.
"I don't sleep easy."
"I know."
Silence.
Then he turned to me.
"I didn't want you to kill him."
"I know," I said again.
He reached out and touched the bracelet on my wrist—his sister's.
His thumb brushed the charm with aching reverence.
"She'd have liked you."
"I wish I could've met her."
"She would've told you to run."
"Then I would've stayed anyway."
He let out a broken laugh.
Soft. Disbelieving.
"I can't keep you safe from all of this, Jomi."
"You don't have to."
She leaned closer, eyes steady.
"You just have to stay alive long enough to see how strong I already am."
Steve's POV
I kissed her.
Not hungry.
Not fast.
Just… soft.
A night too soft for who we were, but too necessary to ignore.
Our mouths met like old prayers.
Hands exploring not to claim—but to understand.
We didn't undress each other.
We unburdened.
For the first time since this nightmare began, I felt… human.
Not a killer.
Not a ghost.
Just a man in a room with a woman who kept choosing him over peace.
And somehow, in that silence—her skin against mine, her breath syncing with my lungs—I believed in something I hadn't felt in years:
Hope.
Jomiloju's POV
I fell asleep with his arms wrapped around me.
His face buried in my hair.
His demons quiet for once.
The storm had paused.
And for a few hours, maybe longer, we weren't captor and captive.
We weren't soldier and rebel.
We were just a girl with a heartbeat and a boy who forgot how to live.
But tonight, we remembered.
Together.