Milán
I make a face while the paramedic prods the back of my head where I split it open, courtesy of the idiot in a uniform who tackled me to the floor in his overeager attempt to disarm me.
“I will sue the fuck out of everybody,” I mutter.
“Excuse me?” the paramedic says.
“He doesn’t mean you. It’s just a temper tantrum.”
I throw Jordan a sour look, and he smiles at me. I’m not sure how he can be so chill after being shot.
“It’s just a scrape,” he says, reading my mind.
“The fucker shot you.”
Jordan shrugs. “If it’s any consolation, I’m not happy about it either.” He looks down where there’s a white bandage wrapped around his right forearm, right above his elbow.
It’s a scrape. A flesh wound. Barely that. It doesn’t even need stitches. But it doesn’t make the urge to kill Dallas with my bare hands lessen at all.
Once again, my hands curl into fists, and my whole body tenses.
“I’m okay,” Jordan says. He’s been repeating it for the last twenty minutes, but I’m having a hard time believing him, even if he looks decidedly cool, calm, and collected, like this is just another day.
“Just breathe,” Jordan says.
I stretch my neck from side to side. It hurts my head.
“I’m okay,” he says.
I shake my head. “I’m not.”
I thought it would be difficult to admit it, but it turns out it’s not.
I want to lean on him. I want him to lean on me.
I want to be a team. A family. I want to choose him and for him to choose me.
I want shared routines, traditions, quiet moments, and loud happiness.
I want trust that shows up when things get hard.
I want a future that feels steadier because we’re in it together.
I want love that’s active. Showing up. Staying. Trying.
I turn my body toward him. Face him.
“Jordan, I—”
He raises his arm and covers my mouth, shaking his head.
“No. I need to say something first, okay?”
I nod.
He nods, too, and inhales like he’s preparing himself.
“I have an issue with people leaving,” he says. “You probably noticed.”
“There were a few hints.”
He smiles the tiniest bit.
“There’s something that’s been nagging me, and I finally figured it out.”
I take his hand and squeeze it. Long fingers link with mine.
“When Kira left, do you know what the one thing I never did was?”
I shake my head.
“I never asked her to stay. Not once. I don’t know why that was.
Pride, I guess. Some sort of stubbornness where if she didn’t want me enough I wasn’t going to beg, and I wasn’t willing to let her really see what the idea of watching her leave would do to me.
” He shrugs and sends me a crooked, self-deprecating smile. “Pride.”
He falls silent.
I wait.
“Somehow, it mattered a lot that she wouldn’t know, and I was going to cry in the rain and all that.”
“But?” I say softly.
He squeezes my fingers and looks me straight in the eye. No hesitation.
“Stay,” he says. “Please. I know there’s a whole big world out there with all the adventures and everything, but please stay.
Here. With me. With us. Because I love you.
So much. I want you to stay. I want you to choose me.
I’m asking you to choose me. And I promise I will make this life with us an adventure. Because I love you. So please stay.”
I take his other hand in mine and slide my thumb over his skin. So warm and alive.
“I’m an idiot,” I say. I put my temple against his and lean on him.
“I love you. I’m not going anywhere. I thought it was kind of obvious, but then I’m kind of a dumbass.
I had this whole plan where I’d ditch this place the first moment I could and as soon as possible wouldn’t be fast enough.
The idea of home terrified me. Always has.
But then you… For the first time the desire to stay outweighs the fear.
I want to be here. I want to stay. I want to love you.
So staying will be the easiest thing I’ve ever done. The easiest choice of all.”
Jordan’s eyes have gone impossibly soft, and his mouth tips into an easy smile.
“Yeah?” he says hoarsely.
I nod. “There’s nowhere I want to be except here with you.”
He breaths out and leans his forehead against mine.
“That’s good,” he says.
And it is. Just pure, simple good.