Page 97 of Sacrifice
I look at Emil, still sleeping but peacefully now. Would he burn the world for me? Yeah. He already proved that.
A soft knock interrupts my thoughts. "Come in."
Soren pokes his head in. "How's he doing?"
"Better. Fever's down."
"Good." He enters fully, folding his long frame into the chair by the window. "Mom said to bring you food. When's the last time you ate?"
I try to remember. "Yesterday? Maybe?"
"Jesus, Saga." He produces a sandwich and chips from behind his back. "Eat."
I take the food gratefully, suddenly ravenous. "Thanks."
"So... you and Emil, huh?"
"Yeah."
"About fucking time." At my look, he grins. "What? Everyone could see it. The way you two circled each other like angry cats for months."
He sobers slightly. "He's good for you, Saga. Seen you smile more in the last few days than the last few months."
"Even with people trying to kill us?"
"Maybe because of it. We don't do anything halfway, including falling in love."
"When did you get so wise?"
"College, remember? I'm educated now." He stands, ruffling my hair like when we were kids. "Take care of your man. But also... let him take care of you. It's not weakness to need someone."
"I'm learning that."
"Good. Oh, and Saga? That thing you did, driving his bike through a shootout? Fucking legendary. The prospects won't shut up about it."
After he leaves, I think about his words.
About needing and being needed.
About the balance Emil and I are still finding.
I've been independent for so long, the idea of relying on someone else feels foreign.
But then I look at Emil, remember how he stepped in front of bullets for me, and realize I've been relying on him all along.
Emil stirs around three, eyes clearer when they open. "How long?"
"Six hours. How do you feel?"
"Like I got hit by a truck. But a smaller truck than this morning." He struggles to sit up, and I help him, piling pillows behind his back. "The intel?—"
"Can wait. You need food first."
"Saga—"
"Non-negotiable. Mom's orders. Food, meds, then you can play tactical genius."
He looks like he wants to argue, but thinks better of it. "Yes ma'am."
