Moonlight glinted on his splints and Caledonia felt an answering glimmer of guilt. Tassos had only agreed to meet with her because Oran stood by her side, but he should be somewhere else. He should be with Hime, letting his fingers heal so that when it came time to fight once more, he’d be able to defend himself. Instead, he was in an unbearably vulnerable position: surrounded by Bullets who had more than one reason to hate him and unable to pull the trigger of a gun. He would argue it was the right choice. But she should have protected him better.

All at once, she was overcome with a feeling like exquisite sadness. It expanded inside her like wings, filling her up and pushing into every dark corner of her mind. “Oran,” she said, suddenly breathless. She leaned in, pressed her lips against his, and took a kiss so sweet it felt like a cleansing wash of tears.

When she pulled away, his eyes were soft and content. “I love you, Cala,” he whispered.

She drew a sharp breath, all the warmth of the previous moment chased away by a sudden wintery chill in her bones. “Oran,” she said again, accusing and confused.

“Cala,” he repeated, mouth tightening in amusement.

“Why do you— Why do you say that?” she asked.

“Why shouldn’t I? It’s the truth and there’s no point in not telling you.” He shook his head once, unapologetic. “And I don’t say it so that you’ll say it back to me. I say it so you’ll know.” When all she did was stare disbelievingly, he continued. “I have to be so many different versions of myself in this fight. One moment, I’m the Fiveson defector; the next, the Steelhand. Every terrible thing I’ve done is always with me.”

A flush rose in Caledonia’s cheeks. Every day, without saying a word, she was asking him to hold the worst parts of himself close enough that she might use them if, no, when, she needed them.

“I’m sorry.” She dropped her chin in guilt, but Oran reached out and ran a thumb along her jaw. “If there was another way—”

“I would be those things with or without you, Cala. My past is not your burden to carry.” He tried to cup her cheek, but thwarted by his splints, he settled instead for hooking an ankle around hers, locking their legs together. “Sometimes, for a brief second, I’m just Oran. I didn’t think that was even possible. But it is with you. And you should know that.”

“But how do you know that’s love?” Caledonia shook her head, realizing that wasn’t the question she meant to ask. “Why is it so easy for you to say it?”