#9xs

Her shoulder blades ache from hunching forward too long, so she rolls her neck and shifts left and right to make herself more comfortable. In doing so, their hips brush lightly on the compact sofa, but Noin doesn’t budge. She’s staring blankly at her own screen—the same pie chart from thirty minutes ago, an ugly concoction of primary colors and suboptimal percentages that shouldn’t take half an hour to understand. Sally sighs, resigned; she crosses her legs and props an elbow on the back of the sofa, letting her mind drift for a moment.

They’re sharing a hotel room for the night, though calling it a hotel might be generous. It’s a simple accommodation: two twin beds with sheets that are clean enough, a fridge too small to keep anything substantial, and a shower that would greatly benefit from working hot water pipes. Being a Preventer doesn’t come with luxury, even if some might claim otherwise. Not that the organization is perfect—far from it, despite Une’s best efforts—but Sally likes to think they’re doing an honest job at keeping the universe in one piece.

Well, at least she’s trying.

Tonight, saving the world means submitting an urgent report due by twenty-four hundred hours, graphs and tables galore. Still, her partner has been painfully quiet, and the lack of focus is concerning. Both professionally—the deadline is creeping in—and in whatever emotional capacity they’ve allowed themselves to mingle.

If asked, Sally would say, “It’s complicated.” There are moments of solitude they share in each other’s hold; caresses they refuse to put into words, but fall comfortably into. They’ve blurred the lines of friendship, but haven’t penciled in the sketch of what their something else looks like.

Yet if asked, Sally wouldn’t say Noin is hers. She sees it in the way Noin’s eyes roam empty rooms, in the way her mouth parts during silences—like she isn’t really there. Some days are easier than others, and Noin is able to kick herself back into the incredible and talented agent that she is in no time.

Some days, she struggles. And on these occasions, Sally keeps her company.

It isn’t easy, but there’s a kind of strength in loving a woman who is still mourning her past. Sally rests her head on Noin’s shoulder and laces their fingers together, hoping that her ghosts will leave her be tonight.