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Later that day, the sun had dipped below the horizon, and darkness enveloped them. They sat around a fire they had built from the woods, the crackling flames providing the only light in the otherwise pitch-black forest.

Armando appeared out of the shadows, tossing a few more pieces of wood onto the fire. "The universe is crazy, ain't it?" Marcus began, breaking the silence. As Armando sat down across from Cataleya, who was busy slicing off a stick, he continued, "I bet none of us thought when we woke up today, this is where we'd be." He looked at Armando with a smirk. "You outta jail." He turned to Mike. "We going to jail." They chuckled together. "This shit is special."

Armando didn't respond, his eyes drifting away from Marcus as they landed on Cataleya. She, too, turned her gaze to meet his. The rest of the conversation seemed distant, her attention fully on him now, unaware of the hushed whispers from the other two men.

"I'm sorry." Mike's voice broke the silence.

Their gazes lingered for a moment until they both turned toward Mike, who now had his full attention on Armando. Marcus muttered something under his breath, but neither of them acknowledged it.

"For what?" Armando asked, his voice more curious than anything.

"For everything, man. Seems like bad shit happens to anybody I love, so... starting to think I'm maybe cursed. I just feel like... maybe I cursed you." Mike confessed, his voice tinged with a mix of regret and frustration.

"You ain't fucking cursed me. Bad shit happens to everybody. Ain't always about you." Armando replied, his body language chill but there was an underlying edge to it.

"Hey, you two." Marcus called, catching their attention. He looked between them, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "I don't know if I told you this... but I died a couple weeks ago."

Mike's reaction was priceless. He shook his head, running a hand over his face as if he'd been living with this knowledge for far too long.

"Sorry to hear about that." Armando said, glancing at Marcus with a bemused look, not knowing how to react.

Cataleya let out a snort, her eyes momentarily leaving the stick she was slicing. "Oh, no," Marcus chuckled, clearly enjoying the confusion. "The best thing that ever happened to me. Shit's wild." He looked at Armando like he was expecting some kind of reaction. "But y'all?" He gestured toward the two men. "Y'all the reason I came back." Cataleya, still working with the stick, sharply slit off another piece of skin from it, her mind clearly elsewhere. But Marcus caught her eye, and with a smirk, he added, "I mean, as long as you exist, we're gonna have better luck even."

Armando scoffed silently but couldn't hide the slight grin that tugged at his lips as he glanced over at Cataleya. She tilted her head, narrowing her eyes at him before quickly looking away, pretending to ignore him.

"Hey," Marcus said, standing up and stretching. "Everybody, bring it in." He raised his arms out wide. "Come on, bring it in. Come on."

Armando raised an eyebrow, confused. "What?" He stood up though.

Mike stood up too, shaking his head as if he didn't understand what Marcus was doing. He turned toward Cataleya. "You gon' get up?" Cataleya clicked her tongue, her irritation evident. She stood up slowly, muttering under her breath as she joined the group. "There you go." Marcus said, grinning from ear to ear.

But just as he reached out to pull everyone into a group hug, Armando interrupted it.

"Y'all are some terrible fucking fugitives." Armando said, a blank tone in his voice, before Cataleya turned and walked off into the forest, her footsteps crunching on the leaves.

The two men looked at each other, exchanging a look of disbelief as the others continued their ridiculous group bonding session, oblivious to the tension that lingered between them.

As Cataleya disappeared into the darkness, the two were left standing there, unsure of how to follow, while the others carried on talking and laughing, completely unaware of the storm brewing just outside their little circle.

The silence between them deepened, a quiet understanding settling in, though neither of them fully acknowledged it. The past they shared was a tangled mess of violence, betrayal, and shared moments of intense survival. It had been years since they'd worked together, and even longer since the connection between them had turned into something... more. But that was the issue. Neither of them could bring themselves to admit it.

They'd both been knee-deep in the chaos of the world they inhabited—missions that blurred the lines between right and wrong, people they had to hurt to survive. In the midst of that, they'd found each other. Not just allies, but something deeper, something that lingered long after they'd parted ways.

But Cataleya couldn't handle it. Couldn't handle him.

She'd seen him in the darkest moments, fighting side by side with him through bloodshed and death, but there was something about him that made her feel too exposed. He was a storm, always in motion, unpredictable and dangerous. And for someone like her, someone who'd been broken by the world and hardened by it, feeling too much was a vulnerability she couldn't afford.

Their connection had been impossible to ignore, even if neither of them dared to voice it. The intensity was always there—unspoken, never acted upon. Armando was the kind of man who kept everything under control, never letting his emotions slip, but Cataleya had seen enough of him to know that the control was a mask. Beneath it, there was something raw and real, something that unnerved her.

And it wasn't just the danger. It was the unspoken feelings between them that neither dared to confront. If they did, it would shatter the delicate balance they had—partners in survival, nothing more. The idea of letting themselves care for each other, of allowing something real to bloom amidst the bloodshed, was too dangerous. Too risky. So, she ran. She distanced herself, put up walls.

And now, even after all this time, even after everything they'd been through, she could still feel that pull toward him. It was there, beneath the anger, beneath the sarcasm, but Cataleya couldn't allow it to be more than a passing thought. She couldn't let herself feel for him.

When Armando's voice cut through the night air, breaking the silence, it was more of a question than anything.

"I didn't think you'd still be here," he said softly, keeping his pace beside her. His words were laced with a mix of disbelief and familiarity. "After everything that happened between us... I thought you were done with me."

Cataleya's jaw clenched at the mention of the past. She couldn't help the sharpness that cut into her tone. "I wasn't done with you, Armando. I was done with what we were. With everything we were supposed to be."

His gaze flickered to her, but he didn't push it. He knew her too well to pry deeper, but the weight of what she said hung in the air.

"You think I wanted this?" She continued, voice trembling slightly, betraying her resolve. "To still feel anything for you? To still care after all we've been through? After everything I've seen you do? After what you did to me?"

Armando's chest tightened. He remembered what they had been, how they had been before the world had ripped them apart. Before the death, the lies, and everything that had built their walls higher. "I didn't ask for any of it, Cat," he said quietly, his gaze steady. "But it happened, and you don't get to just turn it off like that."

Cataleya turned her head, her face tight with emotion. "I don't want to. But I have to."

The words lingered between them, neither of them able to shake the truth that was buried deep within them. There was something unresolved, something that had never been given closure. Maybe it was better that way, maybe it wasn't. But they both knew, deep down, that they were still connected by a thread they couldn't sever, no matter how much they tried.

"Then stop running," Armando said, his voice low, his gaze intense. "Stop running from what you feel, and stop running from me."

Cataleya's heart thudded in her chest. She hated that he was right. She hated how easily he could see through her defenses. But she couldn't let him win. Not yet.

"One day, you'll understand why I had to leave," she said, her voice almost a whisper. "But until then, you're not gonna change my mind."

With that, she took a few steps forward, leaving him standing there, his eyes following her every movement. The fire from the camp still flickered in the distance, but in the deepening night, it felt like they were worlds apart, bound by their past but unable to move forward.

Armando stood there for a long moment, looking at her retreating figure, torn between holding on and letting go.

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