Episode 75 — Storms Don't Wait
By the third night, Raian could walk again — barely. His steps were slow, deliberate, each one carved out of sheer stubborn will. Aria watched from the corner of the room, arms folded, trying not to rush to help him. She knew he'd refuse. Knew this was more than physical recovery. It was defiance. Proof that he was still in control of something — even if that something was pain.
"Sit before you fall," she said finally.
He gave her a dry look. "You underestimate my dramatic timing."
"You underestimate your broken ribs."
Raian sank onto the edge of the wooden crate they used as a makeshift bench, exhaling sharply. Sweat glistened at his temples, but he didn't complain. He never did.
Aria knelt before him with a clean cloth. She reached for the hem of his shirt, pausing for permission.
He didn't flinch when her fingers grazed his skin, but his voice dropped low. "You're not going to let me handle this myself, are you?"
"Do I look like I'm letting you do anything?"
A flicker of a smile. Brief. Real.
She peeled back the bandages carefully, revealing the angry wound along his side. Healing, but still raw. His skin was mottled with bruises, the deep purple giving way to yellow. Evidence of battles won, survived, but never escaped.
As she cleaned the wound, her voice softened. "Why didn't you tell me about Varyn?"
His whole body went still.
She didn't look up. Just waited.
Finally, he said, "Where did you hear that name?"
"You called for her in your sleep."
Silence.
"I'm not asking out of jealousy," Aria added. "I just… need to know what you've carried this whole time. What made you this way."
Raian's jaw worked for a moment before he answered. "She was part of my team. One of the first I ever trained with. We grew up in the same unit. Fought side by side for years."
"What happened to her?"
"She died because I made a decision. One that saved the mission but killed her." He looked away, eyes shadowed. "I left her behind. I never saw her body."
Aria's hands stilled.
"She was the first person I failed," he said quietly. "And the first I ever loved."
The room felt colder.
Aria leaned back slightly, giving him space. But her voice didn't waver. "And since then, you've made sure never to get close again. Not truly."
His gaze rose to meet hers. "Until you."
Her breath caught.
"You weren't supposed to mean anything," he said. "But you did. You do."
"And you still kept running."
"Because I knew what it would cost."
Aria stood. "And now that you've nearly died twice in one week — was the distance worth it?"
"No."
The word hung between them, stark and final.
"I won't lie to you again," Raian said, voice raw. "I can't promise I'll be good at this. But I'll fight for it. For us."
Aria turned away, pacing slowly toward the cracked window. "Then you need to know something too."
Raian watched her closely.
"While you were unconscious," she said, "I got a message."
His eyes narrowed.
"They found my license. The one that proves I'm still a doctor. They know I'm alive."
Raian's voice sharpened. "Who?"
"The Syndicate. Not your side — mine."
She turned to face him again. "They offered a trade."
"What kind of trade?"
"You."
He stared.
"They want you. Alive. And they'll let me walk free if I deliver you."
Raian didn't move. Didn't speak. Just looked at her — searching.
"I didn't accept," she added quickly. "I'm not going to."
"But you considered it."
She flinched.
Raian leaned back, pain flickering through his expression. "I don't blame you. I wouldn't trust me either."
"I didn't say that," Aria said. "But I had to weigh it. I had to ask myself if keeping you alive would just get more people killed."
His silence was answer enough.
Aria crossed the room and crouched in front of him again. "But then I remembered how you held me when I couldn't breathe. How you took bullets for people who didn't deserve it. How you tried to send me away so I wouldn't die with you."
Raian swallowed.
"I chose you," she said. "And I'll keep choosing you. But this can't keep being one-sided."
He nodded slowly. "Then we end it. Together."
She frowned. "End what?"
"The running. The hiding. The Syndicate, both sides. We burn it to the ground."
Aria blinked. "You're not strong enough to walk without limping."
"Then give me a week."
"You'll need three."
"Then in three weeks," he said, eyes igniting with purpose, "we make them regret ever touching us."
—
The next day, Lina stood at the back of the warehouse, sharpening a blade Saira had given her. Her fingers were blistered, muscles sore, but her grip had steadied. She didn't flinch anymore. Not even when Ayan walked in silently behind her.
"You've improved," he said.
She didn't turn. "I'm still not fast."
"You don't need to be fast. You need to be precise."
Lina put the blade down and faced him. "Will you teach me more?"
Ayan hesitated.
"I'm not afraid anymore," she added.
"That's what worries me."
Lina stepped forward. "I don't want to stay weak. I don't want to be the one crying while someone else bleeds."
"You're not weak," Ayan said quietly. "But power changes people."
"Then help me change the right way."
He didn't answer, but he didn't leave either.
She held his gaze. "If you won't teach me to fight, at least teach me how to live in this world. The real one."
For a moment, his guard slipped — just slightly.
"I'll show you what I can," he said.
Their eyes held. Not soft. Not romantic. But something far deeper. A bond forming in the cracks of survival.
—
Night fell again, this time without rain. In the dim warehouse, Aria sat beside Raian once more. His breathing was steady. Color had returned to his cheeks. His hand found hers without looking.
She didn't pull away.
They said nothing.
But in that silence, something shifted.
Not an ending.
A beginning.