Covert Affairs

Brother?

Tyler and I had fallen into an unspoken routine over the past few weeks, a habit of sorts. Whether it was him dragging my perpetually exhausted ass out of the Grand Hall after breakfast or me practically forcing him to attend Culture & Assimilation since it ranks dead last on his list of favorite classes. It was something we both looked forward to every day, a moment of solitude and separation from the chaos of training.

It was our daily escape from the relentless pressure of spy training, a pocket of normalcy in a world where nothing was ever quite normal. These walks between classes, these stolen conversations in empty hallways, they were like little islands of peace in the storm of our Academy life. And that's exactly what terrified me most about them.

Because here's the thing I hate admitting to myself: I look forward to these moments with an intensity that makes my stomach twist with anxiety. The smart, rational part of my brain keeps screaming that I should slam the brakes on whatever this is before it careens completely out of control.

The problem is, I'm not sure it hasn't already.

I keep telling myself that Tyler is just a welcome distraction, that this dizzying sensation whenever he's near is simply basic teenage attraction and nothing more complicated. If I repeat that enough times, maybe I'll believe it. Maybe I can convince myself that there are no deeper feelings lurking beneath the surface, that this can't even be classified as a real crush because I just think he's cute and that's it.

But we both know I'd be lying through my teeth.

Because no matter how hard I try to maintain some semblance of emotional distance, I can't seem to stay away from him. There's this magnetic pull between us that I feel even when he's three floors away in Advanced Surveillance Theory and I'm in Advanced Coding. It's like there's an invisible string connecting us, tugging at something deep in my chest whenever we're apart. And the terrifying truth is that I think it might already be too late to cut that string.

To be brutally honest with myself, I don't want to cut it.

So here's what I've decided: I'm going to allow us to be friends without overthinking every single interaction. I'm going to let myself be selfish and steal these precious moments of solitude where the rest of the Academy can't intrude on our bubble. These walks to class where our shoulders occasionally brush, those times he finds me curled up alone in the reading room with a book, those silent study sessions in the library where we communicate entirely through shared glances and raised eyebrows.

I'm going to collect every lingering look, every moment when our bodies are close enough that I can feel his warmth without us actually touching. I'm going to hoard these instances like a dragon hoards treasure, because there's a countdown clock ticking over our partnership. Tyler leaves at the end of the year, and I refuse to waste another second pushing him away when our time is already so limited.

I want to be selfish. I want to take what I can while I can, consequences be damned. So I will allow myself to steal those moments of intimacy.

"Favorite spy tool?" Tyler's voice cut through my internal spiral, his arm brushing against mine as he leaned closer.

The casual contact sent a familiar jolt through my system, and I had to physically restrain myself from reaching out to grab his hand. My fingers actually twitched with the urge, but I kept them firmly clasped in my lap for obvious reasons.

"Shoe dagger," I replied, trying to clear the fog from my brain and focus on our game instead of the way his proximity was making my heart race.

"Underwater jetpack," Tyler announced without hesitation, his face lighting up like a kid on Christmas morning. But I caught the way his eyes flickered to my lips as I spoke, lingering there for just a beat too long before meeting my gaze again. Apparently, he had noticed how distracted I'd been moments earlier, lost in my own thoughts about him.