The first thing Sky noticed when he woke upwas the silence.
Not tense.Not waiting for gunfire.Just… quiet.
Day was still asleep beside him, one arm draped across Sky's waist, his breathing steady.No nightmares. No jerking awake at every sound.
Sky didn't move.
He memorized the way sunlight broke across Day's collarbone.The way his fingers twitched like he was still reaching for Sky in his sleep.
For once, Day didn't look like the mafia prince, or the heir, or the weapon.He just looked… young.Tired. Human. His guard down.
Sky smiled into the pillow.
He didn't want to wake him, but Day stirred anyway—like his body felt Sky watching.
"…You stayed," Day murmured, eyes still closed.
"I always stay," Sky whispered.
Day cracked one eye open. "Even now?"
"Especially now."
Day rolled over onto his back, arm behind his head, groaning softly. "How are you already this awake?"
"I don't know," Sky grinned. "Maybe I'm high on not being shot."
Day snorted.
Sky shifted closer, laying his head on Day's chest.His fingers traced the edge of Day's tattoo—just over his heart.The dragon.
"Was this your first?" Sky asked quietly.
Day hummed. "Yeah. Fourteen. Hurt like hell. Father said pain builds loyalty."
Sky frowned. "And what do you think builds loyalty?"
There was a pause.
Then Day said, so quietly it hurt:
"Someone who comes back for you. Every time."
Sky looked up.
Their eyes met.
Day cupped his cheek, thumb brushing soft under Sky's eye.
"I'm still learning how to be enough for you," Day whispered. "But I swear to god, Sky… I'm trying."
"You already are," Sky said.
And he meant it.
They didn't kiss this time.Didn't need to.
They just stayed there, tangled together, breathing the same air in a room that, for once, didn't smell like gunpowder or adrenaline.
Peace.However borrowed, however brief.
For once, it was enough.