Chapter 8: Trust

Zane’s POV

We didn’t talk for a while. Not because it was awkward, more like neither of us knew how much to say yet. He glanced at the room again. „This is where you live?“ „Yeah. Glamorous, I know.“ „It’s not- bad,“ he said carefully. I barked a laugh. „You’re a terrible liar.“ „I meant it,“ he said, quieter. „It’s- yours. And it’s real.“ Something in the way he said it made my chest go tight. „You’ve never had that, huh?“ I asked. „A space that’s just yours?“ Leo shook his head. „Even my thoughts weren’t always mine. People expect you to think the right way. Feel the right things. Even alone.“ „That’s messed up.“ „That’s royalty.“

He turned to me then. Face more open than before. „Why did you help me?“ „Felt like it,“ I said with a shrug. „People don’t just do that.“ „I’m not people.“ He gave me a look. Serious. Searching. „Do you always joke like this?“ he asked. „Only when I’m awake.“ He looked down at his hands again. They were trembling. Not violently, but enough that it made me nervous.

„Your powers acting up again?“ „I think they want me to be afraid,“ he murmured. „That’s when they show up the most. When I lose grip.“ „They?“ I asked. „Like they’ve got a mind of their own?“ Leo just nodded. „Sometimes I think I’m not the one using them. Just- borrowing them.“ That made something twist in my gut. Because I knew that feeling, being a passenger in your own life. „Listen,“ I said, leaning forward, elbows on my knees. „I don’t know how to fix powers. I don’t even have any. But I know what it’s like to be scared of yourself. To think that if you let go for one second, everything breaks.“ Leo looked up, startled. I kept going. „But it doesn’t mean you are broken. Just means you need time. And maybe someone who doesn’t run when the lights start flickering.“ „-You stayed,“ he whispered. „Yeah. Don’t remind me. My reputation’ll tank.“

A little silence followed. Comfortable, this time. Then he asked, „What do you do? I mean- when you’re not rescuing fugitives.“ I smirked. „Mostly petty theft. Sometimes information brokering. Occasionally punching people who deserve it.“ His eyes widened. „You’re a criminal?“ „Don’t sound so shocked. You’re technically a runaway angel prince. We’re all sinners here.“ That actually made him laugh, a small, startled sound that lit his face for a second. It made me want to hear it again.

Eventually, I stood and stretched. „Alright. Time to teach you some basics of not dying out here.“ Leo blinked. „You’re going to train me?“ „Not in powers. In street sense. If you’re gonna keep hiding, you need to walk like you belong. Look people in the eye. Know when to run.“ „I’m not- good at pretending.“ „Good. Then we don’t pretend. We adapt.“ His expression shifted, uncertain, but willing. I liked that.

By afternoon, I had him dressed in borrowed clothes, hair tied up, shoes scuffed just enough. We walked through the Lower Quarter and no one looked twice. Not because he was invisible. But because, finally, he didn’t look like something waiting to be stolen.