Two days after the Corvus incident, Selena showed up at Elias's flower shop again.
This time, she didn't come alone.
Elias looked up from a pot of sunflowers as the doorbell chimed. Selena entered like dusk—quiet, assured, dressed in black again. But behind her was someone new.
Tall. Androgynous. Cool like shadow and glass.
Short, cropped silver hair that caught the light. Loose black turtleneck, dark trousers, boots that made no sound. Their eyes—an unreadable gray—swept the shop like a scanner.
"This is Ryn," Selena said. "My tech strategist. I thought it was time you met."
Elias blinked. "Uh… hi?"
Ryn tilted their head. Said nothing.
The silence stretched just long enough to be uncomfortable.
Selena stepped in smoothly. "They're not exactly a talker."
"I noticed," Elias muttered.
Ryn's eyes landed on the lilies Elias had arranged earlier. Then on him.
"You don't look like a threat," they said at last, voice soft but clipped.
Elias straightened. "I'm… not?"
Selena smirked.
"He's not," she confirmed. "But he's important. Which makes him relevant."
That was all it took.
Ryn moved toward the counter, slow and deliberate. Elias took an instinctive step back.
"I've rerouted your shop's surveillance system through six new proxies," Ryn said without emotion. "No one watches you unless I let them. I've also installed motion detectors in the alley."
Elias blinked. "You did all that already?"
Ryn nodded. "Two days ago."
Selena's voice was casual, but her eyes were sharp. "They don't waste time."
Elias glanced between them. "So… you've been watching me?"
Ryn's response was immediate.
"Of course."
They sat down together after the shop closed—Selena, Elias, and Ryn, in the dim backroom scented with lavender and rose stems.
Selena had pulled Elias gently into her side of the world, one conversation at a time.
Tonight was different.
Tonight, Elias was sitting across from someone who lived in that world full-time.
Ryn.
They were fiddling with a small device—tiny, blinking, dangerous-looking.
Elias sipped tea nervously.
"You always carry gadgets?" he asked, trying to make conversation.
Ryn didn't look up. "Always."
A pause.
Selena gave Elias a small, encouraging glance.
"So…" he ventured again, "how long have you worked with Selena?"
Ryn finally looked up.
"Long enough to bury three traitors and build her a satellite."
Elias blinked.
"Okay."
Selena chuckled under her breath.
Ryn tilted their head again. "Why are you still here?"
The question wasn't cruel. Just… curious.
Elias sat back, quiet for a moment. Then he answered honestly.
"I don't know," he said softly. "But she keeps coming back. And I keep… hoping she does."
Selena's expression didn't change, but her eyes softened.
Ryn studied Elias for a long moment.
Then, surprisingly, they nodded. "You're still not a threat."
Elias cracked a nervous smile. "Thanks?"
"But if you break her," Ryn added, slipping the device into their coat, "I'll erase your existence in seven minutes."
Selena gave them a flat look. "Ryn."
"I'm joking."
Selena raised an eyebrow.
"…Mostly."
Later, after Ryn left in a whisper of movement and static, Selena and Elias remained in the quiet.
The tension had faded, replaced by something quieter. More real.
"She's… intense," Elias said.
"They," Selena corrected gently. "Ryn's genderfluid."
Elias nodded. "Right. Sorry."
"She liked you, in her own way," Selena added.
"She threatened to erase me."
"That's a compliment, from Ryn."
Elias chuckled, the sound small but warm.
"I still don't get it," he said after a beat. "All of this. Your world. The danger. The codes and blood and shadows."
"You don't have to," she said. "Not all at once."
He looked at her, studying the way the light caught her eyes, crimson even in the dimness.
"I want to."
She met his gaze. "Why?"
Elias hesitated.
"Because if I don't… I'll always be standing outside. And I think… I want to stand next to you. Not behind. Not far away. With you."
Selena's lips parted, caught off guard.
Slowly, she reached over and took his hand—no possessiveness, no pressure. Just warmth. Quiet.
They sat like that in silence. Two lives braided together by chance, pain, and something that might be love—if they let it grow.