If you only knew...

30.What's this feeling?

Ana's POV

As our boss's text interrupts our dinner, a ripple of anxiety curls through my thoughts.

"What does he want this time?" I murmur, keeping my voice low as I glance at him, curiosity mingling with concern. "I thought he'd give us a bit more time to breathe, especially with you still on the mend."

"Let's hope it's nothing too rough, I'm not sure I can save you again." he teases, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes.

"Please! You'd jump in to save me no matter what," I chuckle, my playful gaze meeting his.

"Don't take that for granted." he retorts, his expression turning suddenly serious as he looks away.
"I'm human, too. I can't always fix your slip-ups, and if I do, it comes at a hefty price for me."

His words hang in the air, heavy with truth. No matter how much I crave him—even amidst our missions—I know I need to stay focused. Our line of work isn't just thrilling, it's perilous. The last mission left a haunting imprint on my mind: this isn't a game; I could lose everything I hold dear, or even my own life.

"You're right. I'm sorry. I promise, this time I'll take the risks," I respond, my playful demeanor melting into genuine concern and regret.

He shakes his head, his expression firm. "That's not what I'm asking. I just need you to stay focused."

"I will. Are you sure you'll be okay with your injury? You don't seem fully recovered," I probe, my concern deepening, nerves fluttering in my stomach.

He meets my worried gaze with a reassuring smile. "I doubt our boss planned on waiting six months or more for me to fully heal. I'll be fine; just trust me."

As we savor the last bites of our dinner, the clock creeps closer to midnight.

With a light chuckle, he glances at the time. "I think it's time for us to get some rest. I'd rather not check my phone anymore, I may find a last-minute departure request," he jokes, pushing back his chair with a smile.

He stands to gather the dishes, a warm look in his eyes. "You should get some sleep, Ana. Let me handle this—it's the least I can do after you treated me to such a delicious meal." His kindness lingers in the air, making the moment feel even more special.

As he begins to wash the dishes, the sound of the running water fills the quiet kitchen, creating a soothing rhythm. I take a moment to admire the way his movements are both graceful and deliberate. Slowly, I approach him from behind, my heart fluttering as I wrap my arms around his slim waist, mindful to avoid the area where he's injured. My cheek rests gently against his back, and I can sense the tension coursing through his body.

He suddenly halts, his hands pausing mid-air as he remains still in my embrace, caught off guard by the warmth of my presence. The air feels electric, heavy with unspoken words. I pull my embrace a bit tighter, savoring the connection between us as I whisper softly
"Happy birthday, my dear Xavier..."

The words hang in the air, filled with affection and unexpressed gratitude. I gently nuzzle my cheek against the fabric of his shirt, wishing that my heartfelt words dissolve the worries that cloud this special day.

"Thank you..." he stammers, his voice barely above a whisper as he attempts to continue his task. However, I can sense that he's lost in thought, unable to focus on the soapy water and the clattering dishes. His wet hands slowly find their way to mine, not with the intention of reinforcing the warmth of my embrace, but rather to gently unwrap my arms from around his middle.

As he does so, his touch is soft and tentative, almost hesitant, as if he's afraid of breaking the fragile moment we're sharing. He slips from my embrace as he tells me in a tender, intimate tone,
"Good night... Ana."

The soft warmth in his voice as he utters my name sends a thrill through my heart, leaving me breathless and scrambling to steady myself. I make my way to his bedroom, acutely aware that he might seek solace and shield himself on the couch, retreating from the dangerous connection between us.

 
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Xavier's POV

The sunlight peeks through the curtains, and before we know it, it's seven in the morning. We stumble out of beds in a rush, barely awake, but adrenaline kicks in as we dash to my car. In our haste, we manage to grab two scalding cups of bitter coffee, cradling them like lifelines as we leap into the vehicle and speed off toward the agency.

As I weave through morning traffic, my phone buzzes—it's an incoming call from our boss.

"Good morning! I've got a fresh assignment for you two, so I hope you've had a chance to recharge. How long until you arrive? Oh, and make sure to call Ana and bring her along!" He says in a cheerful tone.

"Okay, I'll be there in about an hour," I reply, feeling a smile spreading across my face as I end the call.

Curious, Ana glances over at me, her brow slightly furrowed. "Why are you smiling?"

"He just asked me to call you for a meeting in his office," I chuckle, relishing the absurdity of the situation.

She bursts into laughter, her amusement ringing through the car. "You should've put him on speaker! Imagine the three of us chatting as he realizes we are already together!" But then, the humor shifts; her voice grows more serious and a tad embarrassed. "Still, I might need your number for those times when we really have to get in touch."

"Oh, you make a good point! Plus, I'm not really keen on having you unexpectedly show up again at my doorstep just to say sorry." I tease her.

With a nimble flick of her fingers, she quickly saves my number into her phone. I take a moment to offer her my device so she can share her number too, all while keeping my eyes focused on the road ahead, the hum of the engine accompanying our quiet exchange.

"What name should I use to save my number in your phone?" she teases, a spark of playful curiosity lighting up her eyes.

With a grin, I reply, "My work partner," though my heart secretly sighs at the thought of saving her as something far more intimate.

An unsettling awareness creeps in—I'm veering dangerously close to something I've been trying to avoid. The more time I spend with Ana, the stronger this peculiar sensation grows within me. It's hard to pin down exactly what it is, but I know for sure it transcends mere friendship. Each moment spent together only deepens the mystery of my feelings for her.

"Done! 'My beloved Ana' it is!" she declares with a laugh, glancing at me to gauge my reaction, a mischievous glint in her gaze.

Instead of giving her the satisfaction of being flustered, I maintain my composure. "Yes, that works too," I reply, my voice steady.

Her eyes linger on mine, and for a moment, an unspoken tension hangs in the air before she hands me back my phone, both of us caught in a silent exchange.

                      ......................................

As we finally arrive at the agency, we step into our boss's office, both brimming with a mix of excitement and anxiety about the new mission that awaits us. The air is thick with anticipation; we can't shake the feeling that whatever lies ahead will challenge us in more ways than one.