Chapter 28 Neon Snow #2
Eventually people started filtering out. Luka and Ash left first with promises to be in touch about logistics for London. Dmitri stayed longer, sprawled in a chair and telling increasingly ridiculous stories about jobs gone wrong that had everyone in tears.
Mara lingered the longest because of course she did.
She waited until everyone else was gone and then looked at me with that serious expression that meant she was about to say something I didn't want to hear.
“You look happy,” she said.
“I'm heavily medicated. That might be influencing things.”
“I'm serious.” She sat down in the chair across from me. “I've known Declan for years. Known you for a few weeks. But I've never seen either of you look at anyone the way you look at each other.”
“Where are you going with this?”
“Nowhere. Just making an observation.” She leaned back. “He's a good man, Troy. Better than most. Don't fuck it up.”
“Planning not to.”
“Your plans are historically terrible.”
“Everyone keeps saying that.”
“Because it's true.” Her expression softened slightly. “But for what it's worth, I think you're good for him too. He's been alone too long. Needed someone to shake things up.”
“I excel at shaking things up.”
“You excel at causing chaos. There's a difference.” She stood up and crossed to where I sat. “London's going to be good for both of you. Fresh start. No ghosts hanging around every corner.”
“You think so?”
“I know so. Chicago's got too much history for either of you. Go build something new.” She squeezed my shoulder. “And if he does anything stupid, you call me. I'll straighten him out.”
“Pretty sure that's supposed to work the other way around.”
“Have you met yourself? You're the one who needs constant supervision.” She looked toward the kitchen where Declan was cleaning. “But he'll do it. He's already doing it. Just let him.”
“I'm working on it.”
“Work harder.”
She hugged me before she left, quick and tight and over before I could make it weird. Then she cornered Declan in the kitchen and I heard her tell him to keep me alive.
Then she was gone and the house went quiet in that soft post-company way that felt like exhaling after holding your breath too long.
Declan started cleaning up the kitchen. I got up to help and he immediately tried to wave me off.
“I can clean,” I said.
“You're supposed to be resting.”
“I've been resting for three days. I'm going to lose my mind if I rest any more.”
“Fine. But if you pull anything, I'm putting you back on the couch and you're staying there.”
We cleaned in comfortable silence. The kind that came from being around each other long enough that conversation wasn't always necessary. When the kitchen was done and the living room was back to something resembling order, Declan grabbed two beers from the fridge and handed me one.
“Come on,” he said.
“Where?”
“Roof.”
I followed him up the narrow stairs that led to the rooftop access and out into the cold Chicago night.
The city spread around us in all directions.
Lights and distance and old ghosts that didn't feel quite as heavy as they used to.
Declan had blankets up here already, like he'd been planning this, and we settled onto them side by side with our backs against the wall and our faces turned up toward the stars.
“You plan this?” I asked.
“Maybe.”
“Romantic.”
“Shut up.”
I smiled and took a drink of my beer. The cold bit at my face but it wasn't unbearable. Just sharp enough to make me feel alive.
“I don't know what comes next exactly,” I said after a while. “London feels right but I don't have a plan after that.”
“We'll figure it out.”
“That sounds suspiciously like optimism.”
“Is that a problem?”
“Just unusual coming from you.”
Declan shifted closer and I felt the warmth of him all down my side. “I'm allowed to be optimistic. We're both alive. Rafael's dead. I'm leaving Chicago with you. That's more than I thought I'd get a month ago.”
“You sure about leaving? This is your city. Your gym. Your fights.”
“I'm sure.” His voice was steady. “Mara's got the gym. The center's running smooth. And I can fight anywhere. London's got plenty of venues.”
“It's a big change.”
“So was letting you back into my life. Worked out pretty well so far.”
I turned to look at him and found him already looking at me with an expression that made my chest tight. “You really think that?”
“I think we're both still breathing and that's what matters. The rest we can figure out as we go.” He paused. “Besides, I've spent enough years in this city. Maybe it's time to see what your world looks like.”
“My world is a mess.”
“Good thing I'm used to your messes then.”
I kissed him then because I didn't have words for what I was feeling. He tasted like beer and certainty and the promise of something that might actually last. When I pulled back, his hand came up to cup my jaw, holding me there like he was afraid I'd disappear if he let go.
“I love you,” I said. The words came easier than I expected. “Just so you know.”
“I know.” His thumb traced my cheekbone. “I love you too.”
“Good. Because this would be really awkward otherwise.”
He laughed and pulled me back in for another kiss, deeper this time, the kind that made me forget we were on a roof in the middle of winter. His other hand found my hip and pulled me closer until I was half in his lap, his chest solid and warm against mine.
We broke apart eventually because breathing was still a thing we had to do. I settled against his chest and felt his arms come around me, holding me there like he'd been wanting to do this for years and finally had permission.
“This is nice,” I said.
“Yeah.”
“We should do this more often.”
“The sitting on the roof part or the kissing part?”
“Both. Definitely both.”
His chest moved with silent laughter. “I can arrange that.”
We stayed like that for a while, watching the stars and the city and not talking about anything important. Just existing together in a way that felt new and familiar at the same time. Like we'd been building toward this for years and were finally allowed to have it.
“You nervous about London?” Declan asked eventually.
“Little bit. You?”
“Yeah. But good nervous. The kind that comes from starting over instead of running away.”
“There's a difference?”
“There is when you're doing it together.”
I tilted my head back to look at him. “When did you get so wise?”
“I've always been wise. You just never listened.”
“Fair.”
He kissed my forehead and I felt the tenderness in it, the care he was finally allowed to show without hiding it behind practicality or distance. “We're going to be okay, Troy. Whatever comes next, we'll handle it.”
“Together.”
“Together.”
I believed him. For the first time in a long time, I actually believed that things might work out. That I might get to keep this. That London wasn't just an escape but a beginning.
The city stretched out around us, all lights and noise and history. The place that had raised me and broken me and ultimately given me back to someone who'd been waiting the whole time.
Declan's arms tightened around me and I felt his breath steady against my hair. We sat there under the stars and let the cold bite at us while the warmth between us made everything else feel manageable.
“You falling asleep?” he asked after a while.
“Maybe.”
“Come on. Let's get you inside before you freeze to death after surviving everything else.”
He helped me up and we gathered the blankets, moving slow because my ribs were still protesting most movement. When we got back inside, the house felt warmer than it had before. Less like a place haunted by old ghosts and more like somewhere I could actually see myself belonging.
Declan locked the door behind us and turned to find me watching him. “What?”
“Nothing. Just thinking about how this is going to work.”
“What part?”
“All of it. London. Us. Building something that isn't just about surviving.”
“One day at a time,” he said. “We figure it out as we go.”
“You make it sound easy.”
“It won't be easy. But it'll be worth it.”
I crossed to him and kissed him again because I was apparently addicted to the way he tasted now. He kissed me back with the same intensity, his hands finding my waist and pulling me flush against him.
“Bed,” he said against my mouth.
“Yeah.”
We made it to the bedroom without separating for more than a few seconds at a time. By the time we collapsed onto the mattress, we were both breathing hard and my ribs were screaming in protest, but I didn't care. This was worth it. He was worth it.
Declan pulled back and looked down at me with concern bleeding through the want. “We should stop. You're still hurt.”
“I'm fine.”
“You're wincing.”
“Only a little.”
“Troy.”
“Declan.” I pulled him back down. “I'm fine. And I want this. I want you. So either kiss me or get out of my way so I can kiss you.”
He smiled and it transformed his whole face. “Bossy.”
“You like it.”
“I really do.”
He kissed me slow and thorough, taking his time in a way that made my toes curl. His hands roamed over my body with careful reverence, avoiding the worst of the bruises while still making me feel like I was the center of his entire world.
We didn't go further than kissing and touching.
My body wasn't up for more and Declan was too aware of my limitations to push.
But it was enough. More than enough. Just being here with him, safe and whole and allowed to have this, felt like everything I'd been chasing without knowing what I was looking for.
When we finally settled under the covers, his arms came around me and pulled me against his chest. I felt his heartbeat steady under my ear, felt his breathing even out as exhaustion finally caught up with him.
“London's going to be good,” I said into the darkness.
“Yeah. It is.”
“We're going to figure this out.”
“We are.”
“And we're going to be okay.”
“Troy.” His voice was soft but certain. “We're already okay. Everything else is just details.”
I closed my eyes and let myself believe it. Let myself feel the weight of his arms around me and the warmth of his body and the certainty that for the first time in a long time, I wasn't bracing for impact.
Declan's breathing deepened into sleep. I stayed awake a little longer, cataloging the feeling of this moment. The peace we'd earned. The love we'd fought for. The future that finally looked like more than just surviving.
When I finally drifted off, it was with the knowledge that tomorrow would come and we'd handle it together. That London was waiting. That whatever came next, we'd face it the same way we'd faced everything else.
Side by side. Bleeding if we had to. But never alone.
Not anymore.