**a moment of silence**

The cellar was small, barely large enough for the two of them to sit without brushing against each other. The air was damp, filled with the scent of old wood and earth. Somewhere above them, the city remained alive—people walking, torches flickering, their pursuers still searching. 

But for now, here, it was quiet. 

Eliana exhaled slowly, pressing her back against the cold stone wall. Her body ached from running, from fear, from exhaustion that clawed at her bones. 

Kieran sat across from her, his posture relaxed but alert. He had barely broken a sweat despite their escape. His dark eyes were sharp, watchful, but in the dim light, there was something else there too. 

Not just a killer. Not just a man used to blood and violence. 

Something softer. 

Eliana rubbed her hands together for warmth. "Do you ever get tired?" 

Kieran's brow lifted slightly. "Of running?" 

"Of… everything." 

A pause. Then, to her surprise, he leaned back against the wall, his gaze shifting toward the ceiling. "Sometimes." 

She studied him. "And then what?" 

Kieran smirked faintly. "Then I keep going." 

Eliana huffed a small laugh. "You make it sound simple." 

"It is." He glanced at her. "You survive. You keep moving. That's all there is." 

She frowned. "That's not *living*." 

Another pause. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes… for a brief moment, there was something distant in them. 

"I wouldn't know the difference," he murmured. 

Something in her chest ached at that. 

For all his strength, all his lethal skill, he had never known anything else, had he? Always fighting, always running, never stopping long enough to just *be*. 

Eliana hesitated, then shifted closer. "Then maybe…" She hesitated. "Maybe we find something more than just surviving." 

Kieran's gaze locked onto hers. 

For a moment, neither of them spoke. 

Then, slowly, he reached into his belt and pulled out a small piece of bread—nothing much, just something he must have taken earlier. Without a word, he tore it in half and held out a piece to her. 

Eliana blinked, surprised. 

She took it. Their fingers brushed—just briefly, but enough for warmth to spark against her skin. 

A simple gesture. Nothing grand. 

But it was the first time Kieran had ever *shared* anything with her. 

And in the quiet, in the space between the danger and the chase, it felt like something *small but real* had shifted between them.