38

38
Kyro

I pass my pen from finger to finger as the line rings. 

“Where the hell have you been—“

I wince and pull the phone away from my ear. “Listen, Noble, I don't have much time. I’m hot, I’m gonna go dark for a while.”

Noble goes silent, and the rapid fire taps of his fingers on keys fills the line between us. I smile and let out a breath of relief through my nose.

“I need something nice and suburban, out of the way in a neutral country. I’m following a lead. And Noble?”

“Yeah?”

I lick my lips. “It’s a delicate matter. Let’s keep this on a need to know basis. This could be,” I glance back at the house. “This could be everything.”

“Understood. And to be clear the manager…?”

“Doesn’t need to know,” I nod. 

“Figured. I’ll get things set up. Keep this line open. I should be able to arrange everything by tonight.”

“Thank you, Noble.”

“Just answer one thing: are you ok?”

I pause and try to think of the right answer. “I am. I’m ok.” I settle on, and nod firmly when it leaves my lips.

“Well you won’t be if the manager finds out. Wrap your business up quickly.”

The line clicks, and a breeze hits my face, and for a moment, it feels like I may have just made a horrible mistake.

And then the door opens, and her hands wrap around my waist, her lips against my neck, and the thought slips away. 

I’m left with her warm hands rests on my pecs, her fingertips brushing over my beating heart. I can’t decide if I’m doing all of this for her—or for nothing at all.

“This probably won’t end well.” she murmurs, finishing my thought.

“I imagine it won’t.”

Red lets out a breathy laugh against my skin, raising the hairs on my neck. 

What a laugh.

“Follow me,” she whispers in my ear, tugging the lobe and then disappearing, sending shivers down my spine. I turn on my heels and obey.

A few hours ago I was being tortured. My body sprouts an ache, and it blooms on my left side but I try to swallow it down. Steams billows out into the hall when she opens the door.

“Come on,” she urges me, pulling me into the bathroom. “You’ve gotta be in a shit ton of pain.”

“I’m pretty high,” I shrug, “I barely feel it,” I wince as I edge through the door.

Still though, I undress, and slip into the tub, feeling my muscles loosen. I hadn’t realized how tense—how much pain I’d been storing in my body.

I sit for a moment in silence as the hot water soothes me. 

“I love you, Red.” I murmur.

She touches her face and looks away, but I watch her lips curve into a smile. Why is she so cute? I grab her wrist, pull her to the edge of the tub, until her nose brushes mine.

“I love you, Red. Say it back.” I kiss her cheek, feel how warm it is against my lips.

“I love you, Kyro.” 

“You’re so cute. Are you shy, hm?”

She pushes my face away, and stands. “No! I just…”

I chuckle and let her go, and before I can open my mouth she’s undressing.

“You read my mind,”  

I take in her figure in the dim light of the cramped safe house bathroom, shifting as pain slips away. 

Scarlett slips into the water with me.

“What song is playing in your mind,” I ask her softly. “What’s the soundtrack?”

Her eyes go wide with surprise, and then her lips curl up. 

“A love song. Something moody and atmospheric, something gritty and raw.”

Her voice is a salve, a medical intervention I so desperately need.  

Scarlett awkwardly lays against me, shifting until her face rests on my chest. I hold her in my arms, barely in the water, but warm with her. 

I watch water bead on her neck and ache in envy. I hold her a little tighter.

We sit quietly, and heal, the two of us. She closes her eyes, and so do I. I try not to imagine the end—I try not to think to far ahead.

I let my guard down, again— like a fool.

But it seems stupid to do anything else.

Her arms wrap around my neck, and she snuggles into me. I try to imagine the love song in her mind, try to overlay our sound track.

As if she can hear my thoughts, my ears fill with her soft humming—offering me the sameness I crave.

I smile and stroke her back, committing the song; this moment to memory. I think I’ll need it the next time I’m brutally tortured.

•••

There’s nothing in the cabinets besides a week worth of dried rations and pancake mix, and a stick of butter that’s been here a questionable amount of time.

Scarlet and I stare down at the yellow block, and I bring it to my nose to sniff it, watching Scarlet’s face crinkle on my behalf.

I shrug and pass it to her, and she does the same, but far more hesitantly.

“It smells alright, I guess,” she shrugs.

We stare down at the dusty cabinet our options are splayed out on. 

The butter (?), pancake mix, and dried military rations in foil, stacked.

“So…pancakes?” I offer.

She nods resolutely. “Pancakes. If we die of food poisoning it was meant to be.”

Scarlet ransacks the cabinets for the singular pan, tossing it to me across the kitchen. I catch it, and turn on the heat.

“It’s so quiet. Eerily quiet, out here,” she says, as we watch the pan heat, standing next to each other. “The silence is so loud.”

I glance over at her. “Mh. There’s nothing to hide your thoughts behind. Better dull your senses before the dread kicks in,” 

Scarlet scoffs out a laugh. 

I add a bit of butter to the hot pan, and we watch the butter melt, high and doomed, and I can’t help but think I made the right choice, choosing her.

“If we get a cat, we should name it Issac.” I say softly.

Scarlet nods. “Issac is a nice name for a cat.”

I imagine us, in the house Noble will find us, with our cat, and better butter. I know I can’t be happy forever—I’m not worth things like that.

But for a little while, for as long as I can I want to be happy with Red. I want to know what it's like to be with someone who loves you.

To have a home. To be married and have an Issac.

It’s a dream. But as long as I can live in it, whatever I have to give for it—I will.

“Thank you for staying with me,” she whispers, lacing her fingers in between mine. “Please don’t leave.”

Her eyes are focused on the butter, but they’re rimmed with red and tears. 

“I won’t leave, Red. I could never leave you.”

She closes her eyes, hard, and a cube of butter burns, but I take her into my arms anyway, and hold her tight to my chest.

Her tears burn my skin, but I’m quiet as they fall, palming her head.

“It’s ok. We’ll get it right this time. We’ll stay together.”

“Let’s stay together,” Red’s full lips tremble against my skin. “I wanna stay together.”

I hold her tight and rest my lips on her head. “Red…I know you used to belong to Volterra.”

She shakes her head viserially. “That was a mistake—”

“It’s ok. I once belonged to Austriland. But now…I belong to you.”

“I don’t have a country anymore. Just you.” Her voice trembles, her eyes closing tight as if an image is flashing behind her lids.

Last nights fiasco, perhaps.

I shiver and hold her tighter. “No countries. No allegiance to anything but one another.” 

“Isn’t that what marriage is, Mr. Barnum?” 

I smile. A married spy. It’s an oxymoron. Precisely why I want to quit being a spy. 

“Indeed it is, Mrs. Barnum. And might I add how much I adore our last name?”

“Oh and why is that?”

I lift her face and press a kiss against her soft lips. “Because it’s yours.”