°.☆!

… he actually had to think for a second to create a comeback. “I play instruments and listen to music, analyzing the composer’s melodic choices—”

Something smacked him in the chest. Looking down, he saw Stelle had thrown a record at him. “Analize this.”

Hesitantly, he took the record from her hand and looked it over. “Do I want to know where you found this?”

“You know where I found it.”

He heaved a sigh. “Regrettably, I do.”

As the Express came into sight, Sunday dared to release his hold on Stelle.

She noticed, looking back behind her as though she could see the ribbons. “And here I thought you were going to walk me like a dog all the way back home.”

“When I think of pets, raccoons are not the first thing that come to mind.”

Stelle chuckled at that. Sunday himself had to stifle a smirk.

Upon entering the Express, Stelle shuffled off, likely in an attempt to find Dan Heng and dump her paper haul on him. Knowing where Stelle had found the record in his hands, he was loathe to place it on the record player. Hence, Sunday decided to head to the cleaning closet for something to very gently sanitize the record.

On his way, he ran into a figure cleaning the hallway. “Oh, Dan Heng.”

With a swish of Dan Heng’s hands, the water that glimmered over the Astral Express floor swirled up and into a bucket. “Ah, Sunday. You’ve returned.”

Sunday gave a nod. “Yes, Stelle and I both just arrived. You seem to have been busy here.”

“I just finished.”

“No accidents?”

“None.”

“Well done.” Sunday pat his shoulder. “And in perfect timing. Stelle is looking for you.”

Dan Heng gave a nod. “With papers aplenty, I presume.”

“There would have been more if I hadn’t stopped her. Also, you were right; her ribbons are quite effective.”

Dan Heng snorted in amusement.

“She likely headed toward the archives.”

“Thank you.”

“Before you go,” Sunday spoke up. “Stelle found a music record, and I’m hesitant to put it on the machine—”

“Cleaning closet. Grab the green bottle on the fourth shelf from the floor. Spray it on one of the yellow clothes and wipe it off.”

Speechless, Sunday could only blink at the too-precise answer. “And that won’t ruin it?” Sunday asked, just in case.

Dan Heng shook his head. “Would you like to know how I know?”

“I can take a pretty good guess.”

With a smile, Dan Heng headed off.

While Sunday traveled toward the cleaning closet.

Following Dan Heng’s instructions, he easily located what he needed in order to clean the record. Although once was likely enough, Sunday still preferred to wipe it down a second time before heading back towards the main car. He was quite curious to place this in the record player and see what sounds—

“Ack!”

Sunday flinched backwards at the sudden appearance of March at his side. “Oh, Mar—”

“Shhhh!” She flailed a hand wildly. “Code gold.”

That’s when he noticed the food items in March’s other arm. Sunday’s stomach dropped. “Why does she insist on cooking when we can find food out?”

“Because she brought food back she wants to experiment with.”

Right. He recalled how excited Himeko had been by the exotic foods pedaled to her on the trip. “Do you need to grab more from the kitchen?”

“Yup.”

After setting his record on the closest side table, Sunday took hold of the items in March’s arms. “I’ve got this.”

“Perfect.” March eagerly surrendered her stash. “I’ll go for round two. Mr. Yang’s distracting her for now.”

“Then let’s make it quick for his sake.”

With an exasperated nod, March quickly scurried off towards the kitchen again.

Sunday, for his part, quickly headed up to Stelle’s room. He still wasn’t fond of entering without an invitation, but he’d since accepted there were extenuating circumstances that demanded the lack of propriety. Like now.

He still made sure to knock before entering, though. Even if he had to do it with his foot. “Excuse me,” he called out, making a beeline for the hiding cubby in Stelle’s room.

“Really?” Stelle whined. “A code gold?”

“My apologies,” Sunday said, his wings falling in shame as he stuffed the food away. “Seems Himeko is more eager to experiment with those ingredients than we thought.”

“But why when we—” She stopped herself, pursing her lips tightly. “Nevermind. Actually, that kinda checks out. Himeko gets a little too excited when it comes to food.”

After closing up the hiding spot, Sunday turned back to Stelle. “I’ll have March come up the rest so you can go clean up,” he said. Extenuating circumstances or not, he preferred not being in her room while she was in the shower. The others were the others, but that was where he drew the line.

Stelle threw him a thumbs up. “As for tonight’s dinner, we passed a few good eating spots.”

“Yes,” Sunday eagerly agreed. Dinner out seemed far more practical. And edible. “I know there was the one eatery that the townspeople recommended, but—”

“That little hole-in-the-wall we passed? Smelled freaking divine.”

He chuckled. He had to agree with her there. His mouth might have begun watering at the array of spices that drifted from the slightly-worse-for-wear shopfront. “I’ll get March to help me convince her.”

“Cool. Sounds good to me.”

“Just promise you won’t go off dumpster diving after you shower.”

She dramatically sighed, cocking her hips and tossing her head. “Between you and Dan Heng, I doubt I’ll get the leash to do it.”

“I believe I speak for Dan Heng when I say you will not.”

With an exaggerated roll of her eyes, Stelle headed toward the bathroom.

Meaning he needed to take his leave. He took a step toward the door—

Narrowly avoiding Bubbles who had appeared right behind him.

Squee?

Sunday sighed, giving the imaginary trotter a disapproving look. “Can’t you stand to be alone for a moment? Your owner just went to shower.”

He swore its ears fell as it mournfully hung its head. “Squeeee…”

He knew it wasn’t even real, so why did he feel guilty? “Fine, come help.”

With an excited snort, Bubbles lead the way back down stairs. Just in time for Sunday to run into March again.

“Is that everything?” he asked.

“Everything concerning,” March said, already starting up the stairs. “I don’t know why we can’t just get food.”

“There’s a spot Stelle and I want to try,” Sunday said. “Maybe, they even deliver.”

“Ohh! I’d love that, but whenever we land on a planet, I want to go out and explore, too. I want to take pictures of every place we land, ya know.”

True. He’d long since come to admire March’s dedication to her artistic hobby. “Then we’ll just have to convince Himeko.”

“That will be step two of this plan,” March said with a wink before heading up the stairs.

“Squee squeee?”

“See, you have your other owner,” Sunday told the trotter at his feet. “You should go trip her.”

With a tilt of its head, Bubbles stared at Sunday.

Amused, he pat the top of its head and gave it a scratch behind the ears. “Now go on.” To encourage it further, he lightly tapped its nose.

Bubbles gave a snort before trotting away indignantly.

“You seem to have adapted quite well to handling Bubbles.”

Sunday turned around to see Mr. Yang taking a seat at the bar, a sketchbook in his hand.

“I suppose,” Sunday said, taking a seat next the man. “By the way, when it comes to tonight’s dinner—”

“I already talked Himeko into going out to eat while we’re here. The ingredients she got can wait a day. Or… many days.”

Sunday took a breath of relief, slumping in his chair. “Good to know. Although, now it feels like a waste of effort.”

“Your efforts aren’t for nothing: she’ll be desperate to start tomorrow, and I think she’s catching on to us.”

Sunday grimaced. That was most worrisome. “I hope for our stomachs sake that she doesn’t.”

Mr. Yang nodded. “I’ve been aboard this train for a long time, back when it was just Himeko and I. I’ve learned a thing or two when it comes to being one step ahead of her. Unfortunately, the reverse is also true.”

“Even so, I’m sure everyone else is thankful for the talent you do possess.”

“It comes with the territory of learning about people, if you’re willing to invest in those relationships.”

His words struck a chord inside Sunday, his gaze falling to his hands. “I agree. I’ve learned just how true that is recently.”

Mr. Yang’s grin softened. “We’re happy to have you as part of the crew, and I don’t mean that strictly in the professional sense.”

A pleasant warmth began blossoming in Sunday’s chest. “More than anything, I’m… thankful for having been accepted here.” After a moment, he raised his head to meet Mr. Yang’s gaze. “I owe you all so much, especially for your willingness to accept me into your crew. And not just in the professional sense.”

With a warm smile, Mr. Yang reached inside his coat. “Maybe this is a little presumptuous of me. However…” He took out a slim, golden rectangle. The metal clanged against the counter as Mr. Yang slid it Sunday’s direction. “All crew members must have one of these.”

Sunday’s eyes widened as he looked at the golden ticket before him, one he’d seen pinned to all the Astral Express crew members. “This is the Nameless Crew ticket.”

“It is.”

The item held his gaze for a while, before Sunday forcibly turned his wide-eyed attention back to Mr. Yang. “But… I am not a pathstrider for the trailblaze.”

“That doesn’t discredit the fact you’ve so actively invested in being one of us. That you’ve begun finding your own footing in the Astral Express as well as acting in the capacity of a Nameless on missions. Whether or not you follow the path of the trailblaze, we also can’t deny the fact you are one of us.” Mr. Yang tapped the golden ticket. “Meaning that you are no less deserving of this than any of us here.”

A muddle of mixed emotions flooded his chest to the point he couldn’t even decipher one from another. Tentatively, Sunday picked up the ticket, running his fingers over the shining surface. With this, he would truly be welcomed in as one of the crew. While he knew everyone had already done so, this felt… so much more final. More real.

He pursed his lips as he fought against the undercurrent of hesitation. “Are you certain?”

“I’ve talked it over with the other team members. They all are in agreement to present this to you, but they also worried you’d feel pressured if we made a formal ceremony out of it.”

That might very well have been the case. Sunday was no stranger to being in the spotlight, but this… to have this honor gifted to him by Mr. Yang alone was already surprising enough. Having everyone be looking at him for an answer would have overwhelmed him.

“So please,” Mr. Yang continued. “If you wish to take it, don’t hesitate to do so. Only if you truly feel unable to accept it should you decline.”

Sunday stared at the ticket a while longer before pulling it to his chest. “Only if youall are certain I should have it.”

“We are.”

Sunday clung to the ticket tighter, it feeling warm in his hands. “Then I thank you.”

“Allow me to be the first to officially welcome you to the crew, Sunday. Even though the life we live is chaotic, and the people equally unorthodox, I think you’ve succeeded finding your place.”

“Though I’m not sure I can confidently say I’ve found my place,” Sunday began, “I no longer feel lost trying to navigate it. I’ve come to realize there is a certain… order to the chaos.”

With a chuckle, Mr, Yang reached out to lay a hand over Sunday’s head, slightly ruffling his hair. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I do believe that’s called ‘Harmony’.”

Sunday froze at the words.

“And as someone who strides that path,” Mr. Yang finished, his voice warm and welcoming. “I’m sure that’s why you fit in so well.”

~~~

Dearest Brother,

It is with ever-increasing joy that I receive your letters. With every subsequent one, I grow more and more excited to read them, to learn all the little details of your life aboard the Astral Express and your journey into the future. When we parted on Penacony, I was so worried you would struggle alone if I was not at your side. I feared you would have no one to rely on in your struggles and no one to cheer with you in times of triumph. What a blessing it is to learn that all my worry was for nought!

I agree with your previous assessment of family, and that the Oak Family was not family the way I wish it could have been. But, when you wrote that you had found a place that accepted you as though you were one of their own, a place to call home, I knew I no longer needed to worry about you remaining lonely forever. While I hadn’t known the Nameless long, I’ve always had the impression they were truly good people. To hear you confirm that is a comfort, and nothing makes me happier than hearing they have welcomed you into the crew so warmly and thoroughly.

Although you repeatedly reiterate your wish for me have grander adventures than you, I must object. Brother, you have dared to carry the world on your shoulders in order for me to spread my wings and fly. It is only because of the sacrifices you have made that I was able to soar. To explore the world and have those grand adventures. It is now my turn to wish you are the one to find grand adventures. More than that, I wish you are able to find not only the answers you are looking for, but even more than you imagine. From what you’ve written, I’m convinced you are well on your way.

Lastly, don’t worry about stealing my luck from me; all my luck is all yours! I cannot wait to meet you once again in the sky. I want to see how large your wings have grown as you soar down your own path. I regret I cannot see it now, but I take heart knowing I will one day.

Until we meet again, I send all my love.

Your sister, Robin

~~~

“We’re going to have to tell them at some point,” Dan Heng commented, notebook in hand as he lounged in one of the chairs in the archive room.

Smirking, Stelle looked up from her phone, the soft sounds of a video game beeping from it. “That you finally caved to my proposal?”

He gave her a flat look. “Proposal insinuates a marriage.”

“That’s next. I just gotta wear you down enough.” She shot him an exaggerated wink along with a fingergun gesture.

Despite himself, he smiled. It was unfortunate that of all the women to have weaseled her way into his heart, it was this one. But on the other hand, he was flattered at how she was persistent enough to do so. While she could be considered pushy in some manner of speaking, she had taken the time to learn just how far she could do so without truly driving him away.

“Let’s take it slow, Stelle,” he muttered, turning back to his research tablet.

The video game music disappeared as Stelle put the game away. Next thing Dan Heng saw was her hands grabbing the armrests of his chair, and when he looked up, she was leaning over him in a way that demanded his full attention. “And if I don’t wanna?” she challenged.

It was all he could do to keep a straight face. His only indulgence to her question was quirked brow.

She pouted. “You’re no fun to tease anymore.”

“I know you too well.”

“Darn it,” she muttered. “Anyway. I don’t know why we’re stalling. Why can’t we just tell everyone?”

His cheeks grew warm. For her, it may be easy as that, but for him, he didn’t feel ready to admit to the inquisition—namely: March with a side of Himeko— what had happened between him and their resident Galactic Baseballer. “Give me a moment to wrap my head around it.”

With a sigh, she backed away, throwing her hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. I’ll leave it to you.”

“By the way…” He stood from his seat and headed over to a terminal to correct an entry. “Don’t you have chore duty today?”

She pouted, grumbling.

“The sooner you go finish, the sooner you can return.”

She dramatically heaved a sigh. The next moment, Dan Heng felt her arms snake around his waist, her chin dropping on his shoulder. “Fine. But by the time I get back, you need to have figured out your presentation.”

He supposed he’d have to do it sooner or later. It was a fair deal. “Alright.”

Stelle gave him a squeeze before popping up on her tiptoes and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Good. See you later.”

“See you—”

Both he and Stelle froze as their gaze happened to turn in the same direction: the archive doorway. The archive doorway that was not empty. The archive doorway that held the newest resident of the Astral Express crew.

Dan Heng’s stomach sank. So much for keeping it secret. “Uh…” Dan Heng cleared his throat. “We can explain.”

Instead, Sunday looked tired. He sighed, shaking his head. “I knew it.”

And before anyone could say another word, Sunday left the archives.

Stelle turned back to Dan Heng, flashing him a strained grin. “Cat’s out of the bag now. Or would it be ‘bird’s out of the cage’?”

A new urgency filled her, calling her to push past any soreness and get to her feet. There were white bits of stone scattered all around her, the dust settling everywhere. Her breathing quickened as her heart raced, lining her already dry mouth in a chalky coating. When she looked up to survey her surroundings, she could see the train car on top a pile of rubble, fire obscuring it.

Her increasing worry was making her sicker by the second. Please, aeons, say Dan Heng wasn’t in there. She couldn’t lose him. Not now; not after everything they’ve been through.

Not after she’d realized she was falling for him.

Two seconds later, a flash of green caught her attention.

Oh, thank Akivili.

She rushed over to Dan Heng, practically collapsing to her knees beside him. “Dan Heng?”

He didn’t stir.

Although he was propped up against shattered white marble, he hardly looked comfortable, his head hanging at an odd angle while his legs and arms were curled in such a way to barely keep him upright.

Before she did anything, she laid him down as gently as she could, cradling him in her arms as though he was priceless. Because to her, he was. She proceeded to adjust his limbs so they weren’t bent at odd angles, checking him over for injuries as she did. Though his clothes bore signs of dirt, dust, and minor burn marks, she didn’t see any sign of blood.

“Dan Heng?” she called out again. She reached up to brush his hair out of his eyes. Even at her touch, they remained closed. His face didn’t seem to bear any wounds, thank goodness, but he showed no signs of stirring either.

“Dan Heng.” She was growing slightly more worried now. Even as she shook him, he didn’t wake. Her gut began to tighten again. How was she supposed to get him back to consciousness? Did he hit his head too hard?

Think, Stelle, think! What would Dan Heng do?

Pulse. Right, that. There were a few major pulse points on the body.  The ones she remembered were on the wrist and neck, one on each side. With shaking hands, she reached for his wrist, trying to find the pulse point Dan Heng had shown her in the past. But she couldn’t feel a thing.

Ugh, that one was always hard.

Ripping off her gloves, she reached for his neck instead, trying to find the… artery… of some name. Oh, whatever! Who cared about the name; she just had to find it.

Deep breath, Stelle.

She forced herself to inhale, then with quivering hands, ran her fingertips under his jaw. Once, twi—there! A pulse.

Before she could think, she moved her hand over his chest, over where his heart would be. Where it was beating. She allowed herself to exhale, her gut untangling once again. If she focused long enough, she could feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest. He was breathing, however shallow it was.

But he still wouldn’t wake.

“Dan Heng.” She shook his chest. “Please, I’m begging you, wake up.”

No response.

Now what?

Her mind flashed back to when she’d first met March and Dan Heng, back when she’d been graced with his face being the first thing she saw upon coming out of unconsciousness. What was Dan Heng trying to do when she’d first met him? Mouth-to-mouth resuscitation?

She hesitated. Should she?

The immediate question that screamed in her mind was why was she hesitating? She absolutely should. The man she cared for more than she’d ever realized she could needed her to do something. She couldn’t just sit on her heels and cry!

Truth be told, she didn’t want her first kiss with him to be like this. She wanted him to swoop in like one of March’s aeon awful romances and—

Dangnabbit, now was not the time!

She tilted his head back, trying to recall how to go about this. Chin, nose, breath. Right?

“Sorry, Dan Heng,” she whispered, her voice a little shrill with worry. Still, she touched her lips to his, hesitating a moment before—

A hand cupped the back of her head.

Startled, she pulled away with a gasp.

Below her, Dan Heng started coughing.

The last bit of tension in her stomach eased. He was alive. He was breathing. He was moving.

He was coughing from her assistance.

Before an apology slipped from her mouth, the hand on the back of her head slid down to her neck, his fingers clinging to her tighter. They stole the words from her throat.

“Sorry… for what?” His voice was breathless… and blessedly present… and devastatingly handsome, are you kidding? That voice was going to haunt her dreams later.

“Uh… uhhnn…”

His fingers threaded through her hair, holding her head there. Finally, his eyes cracked open. Aeons, she hadn’t realized how happy she was to see those gray-blue orbs.

“Not keeping you safe,” she finally managed, her voice squeakier than she would have hoped.

“Don’t,” he whispered. “I… I’m just glad you’re safe.”

Her heart squeezed. Had he worried about her, too?

Don’t be stupid, she warned herself, her hopes of his words holding a deeper meaning plummeting. Of course he was worried about her. They were friends, after all.

Friends. Just friends.

She shoved her disappointment from her mind. “Are you hurt?”

He took a deep breath. “Sore. But fine.” Regrettably, his expression soured as he pulled his hand away. Only, it didn’t stray far before it was back in her hair, brushing it out of her face. “I’m more worried about you. You passed out from the crash. I barely managed to pull you out before I fainted. Are you okay?”

She couldn’t form an answer as his fingers continued their exploration of her head. She was going to melt under his scrutinizing gaze. But then his other hand came up to grasp her shoulder before running over her body; down her arm, over her back, prodding her side.

Oh dear aeons, take her now. She was going to have a heart attack the way he was feeling her over.

She opened her mouth, hoping she would be able to speak even a half-coherent sentence when his fingers once again found the back of her neck, and all words flat out died like Cocolia in her throat. Hot dang, she was going to explode. Her face wouldn’t have been this warm if she’d stuck it in a fire.

“I…” I’m going to melt under your touch and cave to the urge to kiss you again. “I can handle a beating.”

A weak chuckle escaped him, his lips tilting into a lopsided smile. “I know, but that’s not what I asked.”

He ran his hand up her back, prodding at her spine.

Her face was on fire.

“I-I’m fine,” she finally stuttered out.

His expression faltered, and the hand he was checking her over with came up to cup her cheek. “If you’re sure.”

“Yes.”

He rubbed his thumb under her eye, swiping something away. “Then I’ll trust you.”

Between his tender touches and his concerned voice, she was jello under his touch. He hadn’t the faintest clue that he was giving her fodder for months’ worth of happy dreams right now. How was she supposed to live with herself?

Focus, girl!

“Can you get up?” she asked.

He heaved a sigh, his eyes fluttering closed. “Give me a moment.”

She took a breath of relief, hanging her head lower over him. Only, the hand on the back of her head felt heavier than she realized, coaxing her to dip her head lower, lower, lower still…

Until she flat out collapsed on him, their chests pressed together as her chin rested on his collarbone and nose brushed against his neck. If she leaned forward, she could…

She slammed her eyes shut. There would be no more kissing or thoughts of kissing or anything of the sort until they were out of the woods. Yes, it was a disappointment, but there were more pressing issues right now!

Instead, she took a deep breath, holding it for a second before slowly exhaling.

She could feel his body tense beneath her, his chest heaving from his sharp inhale as he tilted his head back.

She froze. Did she do something?

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked, lifting her head to meet his gaze.

He grunted. “Go easy on me…”

The words were spoken so quietly and quickly she barely heard them. “What?”

He cracked his eyes open again. Her heart skipped a beat in her chest when she realized how close they were. “I… I’m fine. We…” He took a breath, simultaneously stealing hers when he rubbed his fingers at the back of her neck again. “Should go.”

“Y-yeah…”

Yet neither moved.

His fingers twitched against her skin, and she fell closer, her eyes flitting down to his lips.

And was it her imagination or did his eyes flit to hers?

Screw it. Kiss him!

Hesitantly, she lowered her lips closer to his, wondering what CPR would be like this time.

But Dan Heng tilted his head away and cleared his throat. “Um… That’s… not how CPR is supposed to be done… by the way.”

Embarrassment flooded her face. Hell, even the Scalegorge Waterscape would say they were only lightly watered by comparison. “Sorry!” she squeaked, scrambling to her feet. Spotting her discarded glove, she snatched it off the ground, focusing on putting it back on so she wouldn’t have to face the source of both her adoration and mortification.

If she thought about it, the fact she so strongly felt the first probably exacerbated the second.

Dan Heng slowly propped himself up, taking a moment to collect himself once he reached a sitting position. It took Stelle far too long to have the good sense to offer him a hand up. He took hold of it, hosting himself to his feet.

Which brought them chest to chest again.

She caught hold of his arm, grabbing tightly to steady him. It didn’t take long for her mind to register just how toned those arms of his were. What would they feel like wrapped around her body, holding her close in a tender embrace? She’d already had them around her in a protective fervor more than once, and she hated that she wasn’t able to truly savor those moments, not when they had to get up and fight and—

Her heart was fluttering, the sudden urge to kiss him rushing back to her once again. She bit her lip. Do it. Just do it! This once, throw all caution to the wind and—

He leaned forward first, closing the distance between them as their lips touched. Briefly, lightly, world-endingly. And then he dared to whisper, “I’m glad you’re okay.”

… Okay, as far as real first kisses go, it may not have been what she pictured, but it was still perfect.

“Me, too,” she returned, before clarifying, “About you.”

The world had frozen, containing just the two of them. Like they were stuck in a photo on March’s camera. It was idealistic.

But Dan Heng pulled away, shattering the illusion. “We… we need to go.” Although he put a step’s worth of distance between them, he didn’t drop her hand. “It’s not wise to stay here.”

“Y-yeah.” Although reluctant, she had to agree. This place was a disaster zone, and her mind oh-so-kindly reminded her that they were here on a mission. And, much to her dismay, that mission wasn’t “Operation: Kiss Dan Heng.”

He cleared his throat, turning away. Maybe the low lighting was playing tricks on her, but she could have sworn his cheeks were red. “Um… forget… what just happened. That was… inappropriate timing.”

Yeah, there was no way for that to happen. “So?”

His eyes widened slightly as he turned back to her. Oh, he definitely wore a blush.

It proved she wasn’t the only one here flustered. Ironically, knowing that calmed her down. “I… if we’re going to… you know, be walking into trouble, um… that’s really nice information to know. ‘That’ being what just happened, not knowing that we were walking into trouble. Not that that wouldn’t be nice to know—”

“Stelle.”

Thank you for shutting me up. “Yes?”

He switched which of his hands was holding her, allowing him to lace their fingers together. “We’ll… we’ll find a more appropriate time to talk about… um, all this.”

She gave his hand a squeeze as her heart danced hopefully within her chest. “Promise?”

The smile he gave her was devastatingly handsome. “You have my word.”

And then he began walking forward, pulling her along.

She used their interlocked hands to pull him half a step closer, their shoulders bumping in the process. “One last thing before we drop it?”

“Can it wait?”

She stuck their hands out in front of them. “I like this.”

He gave her hand a light squeeze. “Just prepared if I have to let go.”

“Why? Do you hate holding my hand that much?”

He glanced over at her. “In case we run into trouble.”

Oh… duh. Her face felt warm again. Her gaze fell to the rubble-scattered ground before her. “Yeah, that.”

Dan Heng then leaned closer to her ear, causing the most pleasant skitters up her spine. “I won’t let go otherwise.”