Chapter Text
Enjin was not a romantic.
In fact, if angels existed, he doubted they would look kindly on men like him.
He slept around, of course. Any pretty smile that came his way was fair game. But Enjin had always made it a point to never---ever---fall in love.
From a young age, Enjin decided he liked things to be simple.
Warm bodies. Low expectations. Standards---but never attachments. So he didn’t understand why his thoughts kept circling back to one very specific person.
Tamsy.
Cleaner HQ buzzed with its usual low hum: heavy boots on concrete, passing conversations; the air faintly scented with antiseptic and coffee left too long on the burner.
The doors slid open with a quiet groan and Enjin’s gaze betrayed him immediately.
Tamsy’s eyes---golden-blue, sharp beneath thick lashes---missed nothing. They swept the room with calm precision, calculating. His long blonde hair was pulled into a loose, careless bun, his signature blue underparts slipping free---brushing down the nape of his neck, grazing bare skin before falling forward over his shoulders. Several stray strands clung to his jaw, to the soft curve beneath his ear. Enjin’s attention followed the movement helplessly, eyes tracing the slow sway of Tamsy’s steps, the subtle roll of his hips beneath his oversized jacket.
Enjin cleared his throat.
Although he hated to admit it, he had fantasized about his coworker more times than one man probably ought to have.
He found himself---in those rare unsaid moments---often pondering what Tamsy would look like with his hair down---spilled across pale shoulders, fingers tangled in it? What kind of sounds would he make once that calm finally cracked---would that dreamy voice drop low, or high and breathless? Would those lashes flutter when Enjin would dip his head to---
Enough.
Heat curled tight in his stomach, sharp and unwelcome. Enjin clenched his jaw.
God, he thought, heat stirring low in his gut. You’re losing it.
Across the room, Tamsy’s lips were full, faintly parted as he spoke with one of his team’s supporters. The small piercing glinting beneath his lower lip, catching the sterile light. Enjin’s mind supplied unhelpful images---tongue, teeth, the sting of hot metal against skin---and he exhaled, forcing his attention back to the room in front of him.
This was ridiculous! He was just pent up. That’s all. Weeks without release would do that to anyone.
Except…it wasn’t just lust.
No, it was something much more dangerous.
Tamsy’s voice drifted over---soft, silky, almost unreal in a place like this. He had the kind of voice that made you lean in without realizing it. He wasn’t loud like Delmon was---but he still commanded the same respect, the same attention; and was reliable in a way that almost unnerved him.
Despite his extroverted tendencies, Enjin liked to pride himself on being unreadable. Untouchable. Yet somehow, around Tamsy, he found himself flushing like a teenager, pulse stuttering whenever those sharp eyes lingered on him just a second too long.
When their gazes met across the room, Enjin gave his usual grin---lazy, inviting, the one that promised nothing but delivered just enough.
It faltered when Tamsy returned it.
Enjin turned back to the assignment board too quickly, heart thudding. He told himself---again---that he’d only been considering asking Tamsy out for a couple of weeks out of idle curiosity. That this wasn’t new territory. And that he’d fucked his way out of worse ideas.
But as Tamsy’s footsteps approached---quiet and measured---Enjin felt something settle behind his ribs.
Heavy.
Inevitable.
If angels ever fell, Enjin thought, it probably started like this.
With a look held too long. With a kindness that cut deeper than cruelty.
---And the unbearable urge to reach out. To ruin something beautiful.
“Do I have something on my face?”
Enjin startled, just barely. He looked up to see Tamsy, his head tilted, eyes amused in a way that suggested he already knew the answer.
“You’re staring,” Tamsy added lightly.
Enjin exhaled through his nose, forcing his usual grin into place. “Was I? Sorry, I guess I just got distracted.”
“Mm hmm.” Tamsy hummed, gaze lingering. His eyes flicked over Enjin’s face, slow, deliberate, before returning to meet his gaze.
“Funny,” he said. “You took the words right out of my mouth.”
Then, before Enjin could respond, Tamsy leaned in, “Careful,” he murmured. “Otherwise people might start getting the wrong idea.”
Enjin’s pulse jumped. “About what?”
Tamsy’s lips curved, subtle and knowing.
“...See you around, Enjin.”
And just like that, he was gone---Enjin stood there for a moment longer than necessary before facepalming.
…Oh yeah. I’m fucked.
Semiu lounged behind the receptionist desk, one foot hooked lazily around the chair rung, flipping through the latest issue of LL magazine like she had all the time in the world.
Large circular lenses perched on her nose, magnifying her disinterest. She hardly looked up when Enjin stopped in front of her, slightly breathless.
“No.”
Enjin sighed. “Good morning to you too.”
Semiu’s eyes flicked up for half a second--just enough to register him---before dropping back to the page. “You know our agreement. During the week, don’t bother me between nine and eleven…”
Enjin leaned his elbows on the counter, rubbing a hand over his face. “Look, Semiu. I just need some advice.”
She hummed, noncommittal. “Let me guess. It’s that pretty brunette from town, isn’t it?”
“No. This isn’t about her.”
“Well, that’s a relief.” Semiu snorted. “She was way out of your league anyways.”
“Rude.”
“Accurate.”
Enjin opened his mouth---but hesitated.
His fingers tapped against the desk. “Look, I know I have this certain…habit,” he said carefully. “Of picking up hot chicks around town…”
“Mmm hmm,” Semiu murmured, turning a page.
“But,” he continued, slower now, “what if it isn’t a woman this time?”
The page stopped turning. Semiu froze mid-motion.
Slowly, she looked up over the rim of her glasses, one eyebrow arching. “Oh?” she said. “I didn’t know you were gay.”
“I’m not!”
“Sure,” she replied dryly. “Whatever helps you sleep.”
Enjin scowled. “This isn’t helping.”
“Relax,” Semiu said, waving a hand. “I don’t actually care who you’re into. I just didn’t expect this revelation before noon.” She tilted her head. “So. Who is it?”
He swallowed.
“Tamsy.”
Semiu leaned back in her chair, lips curling into a knowing smile. Then, she chuckled. “Ah,” she said. “Well. Have fun with that one.”
Enjin straightened. “Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?! You’re supposed to be encouraging, you know!”
She laughed, adjusting her glasses. “I am. Just…realistically.” Her expression softened, just a little. “Tamsy’s not easy. He doesn’t strike me as a romantic. He’s always been mysterious---even to me.”
“That’s not exactly reassuring.”
“I never said it would be.”
Enjin frowned. “I get the sense you’re enjoying this.”
“A little,” Semiu chuckled. “Because for once, you’re not talking about someone like they’re disposable.”
She closed her magazine and set it aside. “I can tell you’re actually serious….”
He looked away. “I just don’t want to screw it up. I don’t know why but he makes me feel…different than the others.”
Semiu studied Enjin for a moment. “If that’s how you feel,” she said finally. “Then…treat him like he’s someone you won’t get to replace.”
Enjin nodded.
“Right.”
“And trust yourself to know what to do when the time comes.” Semiu added, giving Enjin a knowing smile. “Now, get out of my face before I start charging you for my time.”
Enjin grinned and waved to her over his shoulder.
“See ya.”
“See you. Oh, and Enjin?”
He turned back, “Yeah?”
“Don’t waste this.”
Enjin walked the length of the Cleaners’ hallway slower than usual, his boots scuffing against the floor as Semiu’s words replayed in his head.
Don’t waste this.
He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling through his nose. Easy for her to say! She wasn’t the one whose chest tightened every time Tamsy’s name crossed their mind.
Enjin rounded the corner---
And nearly stopped dead in his tracks.
Tamsy stood a few feet down the hall, crouched slightly as he spoke softly to Dear and Rudo. With a subtle flick of his wrist, he produced a couple of colorfully wrapped sweets from his sleeves like a magician, placing them carefully into each of their hands.
Dear’s eyes lit up immediately. He stuffed the candy into his mouth, letting out a muffled sound of delight.
Rudo, on the other hand, accepted his sweet with a solemn nod. “Thank you, Tamsy,” he said seriously, as if it was a gift of the utmost importance.
Enjin’s stomach flipped.
Too soon. Way too soon!
He considered---briefly---turning and booking it down the hall. But Rudo spotted him first and lifted a hand in an enthusiastic wave. “Hey Enjin!”
Fuck.
Enjin plastered on a grin and walked over, forcing his legs to cooperate. “Hey, hey,” he said lightly. “Careful there, Rudo. If you eat too many sweets, you’ll be bouncing off the walls before you know it!.”
Rudo puffed up. “Don’t worry. I can handle it.”
Enjin laughed and ruffled his hair anyway, then did the same to Dear, who was too focused on unwrapping the next candy to really notice.
As Enjin straightened, he felt it.
Tamsy’s gaze.
Not sharp. Not judging. Just…attentive.
It sent a spark straight through Enjin’s chest---warm and unsettling all at once. He cleared his throat, suddenly aware of how close the two of them were.
“Didn’t expect to see you again so soon,” Enjin said, aiming for casualness. “Do you have the day off today too?”
Tamsy’s lips curved, just barely. “No. I was actually just on my way to the break room when I happened to run into these two.”
Before Enjin could respond, hurried footsteps echoed down the hall.
“There you two are!” Bro’s voice cut in as he rounded the corner, relief written on his face. “Finally found you guys. Come on--we’re leaving for the South Ward in fifteen. Go grab your things!”
The kids perked up and turned on their heels.
“Thanks for the sweets, Tamsy!” Rudo called as Bro herded them away.
Dear waved back enthusiastically, candy still in his mouth.
Bro glanced quickly between Tamsy and Enjin before shooting Enjin a knowing look that clearly said: You owe me.
Enjin shot him a grateful look over the kids’ heads.
“I was heading to the break room,” Tamsy said once the trio had disappeared, already turning on his heel. “You can join me---if you’d like.”
It wasn’t phrased like an invitation as much as a quiet demand.
Tamsy glanced over his shoulder.
“Unless, of course, you have other things to do.”
Enjin blinked, then scoffed lightly to mask the way his pulse jumped. “No---no, I’m happy to join. I don’t have any plans. I mean, I’m a busy guy, but…not today, er---”
He internally face-palmed.
“Mm,” Tamsy hummed, clearly amused.
The cleaners’ break room was empty when they stepped inside. Fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead, the old couch shoved against the wall bearing witness to countless late nights and worse decisions.
Tamsy moved with unhurried ease, shrugging off his coat and setting it neatly aside before perching on the arm of the couch instead of sitting properly.
Enjin dropped onto the cushion beside him, suddenly hyperaware of his own body in the space. Out of habit more than thought, he fished out a cigarette and flicked his lighter.
The flame barely kissed the tip before Tamsy’s gaze snapped to it.
“…Really?”
Enjin glanced over, smirk ready. “What? Break room’s for breaks.”
Tamsy wrinkled his nose. “It smells awful.”
That threw him.
Enjin hesitated. “You hate it that much?”
“I do,” Tamsy replied flatly. “If you’re going to smoke, at least have the decency to open a window.”
Enjin stared at him for a beat---then laughed quietly, killing the lighter. He slipped the cigarette back into the pack.
“Didn’t peg you as the bossy type.”
Tamsy’s lips curved. “You’d be surprised.”
That---that---sent something hot and sharp through Enjin’s chest.
They fell into easy conversation after that. Work complaints. The kids. Their upcoming assignments.
Though if Enjin were being honest, he was only half listening. Because the whole time, Tamsy kept inching closer, slow and deliberate, until their shoulders nearly brushed.
Enjin then had the sudden, reckless urge to reach out and lace their fingers together.
Instead, Tamsy gave him a teasing look. “I hear wherever you go, you leave a trail of broken hearts behind you.”
There was no accusation in his tone---just curiosity.
Enjin deflected, as he always did, but faltered when Tamsy tilted his head, eyes dark with something unreadable.
“You don’t deny it,” Tamsy observed.
“I don’t see the point,” Enjin shot back. “People believe what they want.”
“True,” Tamsy said softly. “And yet…you look nervous.”
The grin slid right off Enjin’s face.
Before he could recover, Tamsy slid down from the arm of the couch and sat properly this time---close. Close enough that Enjin could smell him. Sandalwood.
Tamsy’s hand rested on Enjin’s knee.
Then, deliberately, it slid upward.
Enjin inhaled sharply, words abandoning him as Tamsy leaned in, breath ghosting across his ear.
“You’re tense,” Tamsy murmured.
“K-kinda hard not to be,” Enjin managed.
A quiet laugh followed---warm. Dangerous.
Tamsy’s fingers stilled, then resumed their slow climb. “You’ve been checking me out for weeks,” he whispered. “You’re not exactly subtle.”
Heat flooded Enjin’s face. “That’s---I---”
“Shh.” Tamsy’s other hand came up, brushing Enjin’s jaw.
“It’s flattering.”
Enjin’s gaze flicked to Tamsy’s hair---spilling loose over his shoulders. He hesitated.
“Can I---?”
Tamsy smiled, eyes half-lidded. “You can.”
Enjin’s fingers slid into it, tentative at first, then more certain as he inhaled deeply. The scent of Tamsy wrapped around him, dizzying. He threaded his hands through the long strands.
Tamsy let out a soft, barely audible groan.
And then---
Tamsy pushed him back against the couch with surprising force and kissed him.
Hard.
His mouth was warm and insistent, tongue slipping past Enjin’s lips before he could even think to respond. Something cool brushed his tongue---a small metal ball---and Enjin’s mind short-circuited completely. Blood roared in his ears. His hands clenched uselessly in Tamsy’s hair as everything went white-hot.
Then just as suddenly as it had come, it stopped.
Tamsy pulled back.
A thin string of saliva stretched between them before breaking, and Enjin gasped, chest heaving, flushed and painfully aware of his own arousal betraying him.
Tamsy looked down and smirked.
“Someone’s excited.”
He licked his lips once---slow and deliberate---then stood, smoothing his hair back into place as if nothing had happened.
Enjin stared up at him, mortified and helpless.
Tamsy leaned down just long enough to murmur, “Try not to make it so obvious next time,” before turning toward the door.
Enjin stayed on the couch long after the door clicked shut.
He stared at the opposite wall, heart still trying to claw its way out of his chest. His mouth felt warm. His head felt light. And his pants were uncomfortably tight.
“Holy---” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face. In his mind, he replayed it over and over: the look in Tamsy’s eyes and the confidence at which he’d pulled away from Enjin, leaving him desperate and aching for more.
Enjin groaned and leaned forward.
Fuck. I am so screwed.
The restaurant was loud and cramped, all clattering plates and neon lights bleeding through the windows. Enjin sat across from Riyo and Zanka, half-listening as they chattered about their latest mission, poking at his food absentmindedly.
Riyo noticed almost immediately.
She leaned forward, chin resting in her hands, eyes sparkling. “What’s got you so happy?”
“Nothing,” Enjin said---almost too quickly.
Riyo laughed. “Is this about your crush again?”
“Don’t call it a crush,” Enjin groaned. “That makes it sound so childish.”
“Whaaat? It’s cute,” Riyo sing-songed, nudging Zanka with her elbow. “Zanka thinks so too, right?”
Zanka shrugged. “I don’t really care what you call it. I just don’t get why you won’t tell us who it is.”
Enjin sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Because it’s not a big enough deal for you guys to worry about.”
“Oh please.” Riyo grinned. “You’re just embarrassed!” She leaned closer, lowering her voice. “But listen, if you’re going to be all mysterious, at least tell us what’s different this time. You’re usually just down for a quick fuck, but you’ve been totally googly-eyed the last couple days!---So go on, spill already!”
Enjin opened his mouth---then closed it again.
“You’re really not going to let this go, are you?”
“Not a chance!”
“Nope.”
“Fine, ya damn vultures,” Enjin chuckled.
He then took a breath. “...I’ve been noticing someone recently. Someone I normally wouldn’t even think to go for. But I also…think I kind of want more this time. Something serious.” He hesitated. “They make me feel crazy. And---good.”
“How eloquent,” Zanka deadpanned.
Riyo blinked, then burst out laughing. “No way. You mean to tell me that you, Enjin, want more from a relationship when you’ve already made it abundantly clear that you won’t date anyone seriously?”
Enjin groaned. “I guess you could phrase it like that…”
Riyo laughed.
Zanka pushed his food around his plate, frowning. “I just…don’t get it,” he said, quieter now. “You’re kind of---well. You’re you. Most people don’t really measure up...”
Riyo shot him a look. “Zanka.”
“What?” he huffed, defensive. “I’m not trying to be rude. I just don’t want Enjin wasting his time on someone who won’t appreciate him.”
Enjin smiled despite himself. “Hey. Thanks, Zanka---but trust me. I can handle myself.”
Riyo propped her chin on her hands again, softer now. “Honestly? I think it’s kinda cute. You deserve something real for once. I’m rooting for you.”
Zanka glanced up, reluctant but sincere. “…Just don’t let them hurt you.”
Enjin nodded, “I won’t.”
He then turned back to his food, but found his thoughts drifting again, despite himself: back to sandalwood, to that wicked smile, and to the kiss that had knocked the breath from his lungs.
And for the first time, he didn’t try to stop it.
It had been over a week since Enjin had last seen Tamsy, and to say he didn’t miss him was the understatement of the century. But claiming he hadn’t thought about him at all was just as absurd. Tamsy lingered in his mind constantly---especially at night, when memories of Tamsy’s lips would leave Enjin flushed and restless, unable to sleep until he’d stroked one out of his system.
So when he spotted Tamsy entering the break room the next day, Tokushin trailing at his side, something in Enjin tightened.
Tamsy looked…drained. His shoulders tense, eyes distant---
“Rough day?” Enjin asked, leaning forward on the back of the couch.
Tamsy offered a half-smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “You could say that.”
He ran a hand through his hair and sank onto the couch with a quiet groan. Enjin watched him for a moment, then gathered his courage.
“Well hey,” he said, forcing lightness into his voice. “How about we grab a drink after work then? My treat.”
Tamsy glanced up, hesitated---then nodded once.
“Fine. One drink.”
There was something unspoken in the way Tamsy leaned back in his chair, arms loose, expression serene; that made Enjin want to reach across the table and touch him.
With Tamsy, the world felt sharper and softer all at once, as if he had subtly rearranged its weight. With each passing glass, Enjin’s words came easier---laughter spilling out, stories growing longer than necessary. His gaze never strayed far from Tamsy’s, whose calm presence made something ache pleasantly in his chest.
He leaned forward, brushing his lips lightly against Tamsy’s.
Tentative and careful.
Tamsy blinked, momentarily stunned.
Bathed in the glow of the bar lights, Enjin looked at him---at his soft expression, the way his lips caught the warm reflection of the glass---and without thinking, the words slipped free.
“You…look like an angel.”
The moment froze.
Tamsy stiffened, eyes widening.
“Shit,” Enjin said quickly, waving a hand as heat rushed to his cheeks. “I’m drunk. I---sorry. That came out wrong.”
Tamsy studied him for a minute. Then his shoulders eased, lips curving into a gentle smile.
“You say things like that very easily,” Tamsy murmured. “Makes it hard to tell when you mean them.”
Enjin swallowed, fingers curling against the edge of the table. “I don’t say things I don’t feel,” he said, softer now. “I just…don’t always say them right.”
A small breath of laughter slipped from Tamsy. Encouraged, Enjin tried again, steadier this time. “So… how about a proper date sometime? Not just drinks after a bad day.”
Tamsy raised an eyebrow, teasing--- “A proper date? With you?”
“Why not?”
“Careful,” Tamsy said lightly. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were falling in love with me.”
“Who says I’m not?” Enjin replied, reaching for Tamsy’s hand.
Tamsy’s fingers twitched---but he didn’t pull away.
“You don’t even know me.”
“Then let me try to.”
Enjin lounged in the lobby, one ankle crossed over the other, leaning against the metal railing like he owned the place. He twirled a small bouquet in his hands---flowers he’d carefully selected earlier that morning under Delmon’s very enthusiastic supervision.
Delmon had been positively elated when Enjin had asked for his help. He’d spent nearly the entire morning delivering an impassioned lecture on floral symbolism, barely pausing for breath (In the end, Enjin settled on blue and white pansies---chosen partly for their meaning, but also partly to keep Delmon from rattling off another half-dozen alternatives).
Now, staring down at the delicate bundle, Enjin felt a rare flicker of nervous anticipation stir in his chest.
Across the lobby, Semiu caught his eye. She sat at her usual spot near the reception desk, one eyebrow arched, watching him with the keen focus of someone pretending not to be invested.
“You’re…painfully obvious,” she muttered, just loud enough for him to hear.
“Try not to scare him off before he even sees you.”
Enjin scoffed but didn’t respond.
About five minutes later, the doors slid open again, revealing Tamsy. His hair was braided neatly down over his shoulders, and the afternoon sun filtered lazily through the tinted glass behind him, catching him at just the right moment as he crossed the lobby toward Enjin---almost ethereal in the soft light.
Enjin’s chest tightened.
His gaze traced every detail: the softness of Tamsy’s features, the subtle glow to his skin, the quiet elegance in the way he moved, as if the air itself gave way for him. Enjin shifted the bouquet in his hands, a low heat stirring beneath his ribs.
He wanted to act---to reach out, pull Tamsy close, and say all the things he’d been holding back. But Semiu’s presence lingered at the edge of his awareness, keeping him restrained.
For now.
“Hey,” he said instead.
Tamsy’s lips curved into a small smile. “Hello,” he replied, eyes flicking briefly to the flowers.
“These are for you,” Enjin said, offering the bouquet. “They reminded me of you. They’re pansies---”
“Are you calling me gay?”
“W-what?”
Tamsy laughed. “I’m only kidding.” He accepted the bouquet, smiling more openly now. “They’re lovely. Thank you.”
As his fingers brushed Enjin’s, the contact lingered for just a heartbeat---but it was still enough to send Enjin’s pulse spiking.
The date began quietly---a walk through town, a quick bite to eat, and a long, meandering stop at the local record store. They drifted through narrow aisles shoulder to shoulder, Tamsy flipping through vinyl with careful hands while Enjin hovered close, offering commentary no one had asked for. At some point, Enjin realized he’d stopped paying attention to the records entirely.
Hours slipped by almost unnoticed.
Whenever they paused to peer into a shop window or laugh at something small, Enjin’s arm found its way around Tamsy’s shoulders, loose and easy, like it belonged there. And Tamsy let him. Occasionally, he’d return the gesture with a brief hand against Enjin’s forearm or a subtle lean into his side. Enjin had noticed over the years that public affection wasn’t quite Tamsy’s style---but the quiet touches, the unspoken permission, were more than enough to satisfy him.
By the time they stepped back onto the street, the sky had darkened, clouds hanging low and heavy.
“It looks like it’s going to rain,” Tamsy said, glancing upward.
“Well, lucky for us then,” Enjin replied, lifting his Umbreaker with a grin. “Looks like I came prepared.”
As if summoned by the words, rain began to fall---first a light mist, then a steady drizzle. Enjin popped the umbrella open and immediately offered it to Tamsy.
“Here. Take it.”
“I couldn’t possibly,” Tamsy said, even as the rain began to streak through his hair. He frowned faintly.
“No, no,” Enjin insisted, pressing the handle into his hand. “I insist.” He flashed a grin. “...Consider it…an excuse to get wet for you,” he added with a suggestive grin.
Tamsy rolled his eyes and hid his face behind his jacket sleeves, a faint flush coloring his cheeks. “You’re ridiculous. Let’s just get home as fast as we can.”
“Aye aye, captain.”
They walked close as they made their way back toward Cleaner HQ, rain soaking into clothes and hair alike. Tamsy eventually ducked beneath Enjin’s arm, seeking shelter, damp strands clinging to his face. The proximity made Enjin’s chest tighten. He was acutely aware of every detail---the warmth at his side, the steady rise and fall of Tamsy’s breath, the way the thin fabric of his shirt clung to his form.
By the time HQ came into view, Enjin was shivering---though it had little to do with the cold.
Inside, dripping onto the tiled floor, Tamsy eyed him for a moment before speaking.
“Take your shirt off.”
Enjin blinked. “I’m sorry?”
“You’re soaked,” Tamsy said plainly. “You’ll get sick if you keep it on.”
Enjin searched his face for teasing, but found only quiet concern. He huffed a laugh and complied, tugging the damp fabric over his head. The cool air raised goosebumps along his skin.
Tamsy’s gaze lingered---brief, but unmistakable.
“Don’t act like you weren’t hoping for an excuse,” he said lightly, stepping closer. His hands brushed Enjin’s chest, slow and deliberate.
“Are you cold?” Tamsy asked.
“Yeah,” Enjin admitted, voice rougher than intended.
A smile tugged at Tamsy’s lips. “Then come here.”
He closed what little space remained between them. Their hands brushed again. Breath mingled.
The world beyond the lobby seemed to fade, leaving only the sound of Enjin’s racing heart.
“It’s okay to touch me too,” Tamsy said, “I won’t break, you know.”
Enjin’s hands found themselves at Tamsy’s waist, hesitant but certain.
“Tamsy…” he murmured.
Tamsy glanced up at him, eyes dark and unreadable. “Relax,” he said quietly. “Just…trust me.”
And Enjin did.
And it felt like stepping off a ledge he’d spent his whole life circling---no wings, no guarantees, just the strange certainty that he wouldn’t be alone on his way down.