𝐖𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘, 𝖺 𝗀𝗅𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝖻𝗎𝗆

don't go where i can't follow

That night, the city was lit not by electricity, but by hundreds of flickering lanterns and the soft amber glow of campfires dotting the cliffside. 

Celebration hummed low in the air — music, laughter, tired footsteps of reunions happening in every tent and shelter.

But up in the old observatory, far from the noise, Nico stood with a towel around his neck, damp curls clinging to his temples, fresh from a hot shower he didn't think he'd ever get after weeks at sea.

Bea sat on the windowsill, curled up in a blanket, one hand tracing the mist on the glass. The moonlight painted silver across her cheeks and caught the lines of wear beneath her eyes. 

She didn't hear him come in at first.

He just stood there for a while, watching her.

"You're staring," she said softly, not looking at him.

"You were waiting."

"I didn't want to miss you," she replied, still tracing invisible shapes on the window. "I kept thinking... what if something happened again. What if I got another radio call saying—"

Nico was already crossing the room. He dropped the towel onto the bed, crouched before her, and took her hands gently.

"Hey. I'm here."

She nodded, breath hitching, her fingers curling into his.

"You almost jumped off the ship," she said. "Someone told me you were hallucinating. Saw someone who looked like me."

Nico smiled faintly, lifting her hands to his lips.

"It wasn't you. Sirens don't have your eyes. They don't have your heartbeat in my memory. Or the way you say my name when I'm about to do something stupid."

Bea's lips quirked, eyes glassy. "...You're the stupid one for jumping if it was me."

He leaned closer, voice low. "You're the only reason I'd ever drown."

And then his mouth found hers.

Soft. Careful. Familiar. But hungry with the ache of distance.

She pulled him forward without a word, the blanket falling to the floor. His hands gripped her waist, her legs circled his hips instinctively. The air felt thick with salt and longing.

Their bodies found each other like they always did: desperate but unhurried, every kiss a rediscovery, every breath a confirmation that they made it back again.

Clothes shed slowly between kisses and laughter and quiet sighs. He pressed her into the sheets like she was something sacred. She ran her hands through his hair like it anchored her to the earth.

And when they finally stilled, tangled together under the covers, Nico's arm draped protectively over her waist, Bea whispered in the dark:

"Don't ever go where I can't follow."

He kissed her shoulder.

"Never again."