As much as Tee longed for his arms around her, Jack kept his distance. They sat side by side on the couch, the only sound the low murmur of the newsfeed. Silence thickened between them, heavy and suffocating, until Tee began to wonder if he would ever speak to her at all.
"Jack, I need a hand with the poker table," his mother called, pausing midway down the stairs.
He shot to his feet too fast, his words tumbling out in a rush. "I—have to go."
Tee sat there in silence, her heart heavy with the weight of grief and loss. She hugged herself and watched him from behind as he left her, like so many other times before. She wiped away her tears and took a deep breath, trying to compose herself before facing Jack again.
As the sun began to set, Jack's father, a fellow scientist like Tetra, finally arrived home. The news of Tee's predicament had already reached him, and he was visibly saddened by the sight of her in their home. Despite his tiredness, he eagerly joined his wife and son in preparing a new room for their guest.
As they worked to transform Richard's old storeroom, the glow of the fading light revealed just how decrepit the walls had become. Just as they finished the room and replaced the dim light with a brighter one, a scavenger darted across the dusty floorboards, sending shivers down Tee's spine.
Jack made a selfless offer. "She can have my room for the night. I'll sleep on the couch." His parents looked at him with pride, and Tee couldn't help but feel grateful for his kindness.
Then the weekend arrived—the day before Tee was due back at the Mid-Guard. She felt adrift, as if nothing around her held any meaning. Both of Jack's parents were out on errands, leaving the house unusually quiet. Jack found her standing by the window, eyes distant, lost in thought. Seeing her like that twisted his chest with a sharp, aching pain.
Tee was at her lowest, Tetra gone, sadness clinging like a shadow. Instead of words, Jack just held out his hand. "Come with me. I want to show you something."
In his room, the air grew charged. He unbuckled his belt slowly, eyes never leaving hers, giving her every chance to pull away. Tee's heart pounded, her thoughts scattering like sparks. What was he doing?
He stepped close, his hands slipping around her back, drawing her into his warmth. His lips brushed her cheek, a whisper threading through her skin:
"I want to take this further… when I'm inside you, I want it to mean something. I want you to feel how much I cherish you."
Her chest tightened. Words stumbled out, trembling. "But… we're not even committed yet. Are you—" she broke off, searching his face, desperate. "Are you going to propose?" She laughed nervously, half crying. "You don't need a ring yet… if you don't have one."
Could it be that he still had feelings for her, and was just keeping them buried?
He shook his head, smiling softly as he leaned his forehead against hers. "I don't need anyone else's rules. I just need you. Not because my friends have done it. Not because I'm supposed to. Because you're the only one I want."
The weight of his words wrapped around her. That wasn't a grab, a claim, or a demand. It was an offering. A choice.
When he laid her back on the bed, his body hovering over hers, she saw not hunger in his eyes but reverence. And for the first time, the ache in her chest eased. She didn't feel broken. She felt wanted. Cherished.
She remembered the strange man in black, his silver hair framing a pale face, eyes so dark they seemed to pierce straight through her soul. Why did his image linger in that moment, when she was with the love of her life?
Jack—the first moment he had ever shown her such raw, unguarded intimacy—was right there. Yet, the memory of that man gnawed at her. The man had crossed boundaries long before, looming too close, testing what might happen if she didn't pull away. A flicker of guilt—almost like betrayal—tinged her thoughts. And he always appeared when she least expected it. But… was he even real?
Jack's weight hovered just above her, heat radiating between them. Tee's breath came shallow, her pulse racing as Jack lowered his lips to hers. The kiss started gentle, almost questioning, but deepened as her hands slid up his chest, clutching at him as if she might fall without the anchor of his body.
He groaned softly against her mouth, fingers tracing the line of her waist, the curve of her hip. Everywhere he touched, her skin ignited, her body answering faster than her mind could catch up.
"Tee…" he whispered between kisses, his lips brushing the corner of her mouth, her jaw, the hollow of her throat. "You don't know what you do to me."
Her eyes fluttered shut, a shiver running down her spine as his mouth explored her skin. She arched into him instinctively, the friction making her gasp. Her thoughts were a blur of heat and want, her voice trembling as she spoke. "Jack… I—"
He hushed her with another kiss, slower that time, his hand sliding beneath the hem of her shirt, palm splayed over her stomach. He paused, waiting, giving her space to stop him. But Tee only arched closer, her fingers threading into his hair, pulling him down to her.
The hesitation shattered. His touch grew bolder, his kisses more demanding. She felt the weight of his desire, but also the restraint—every movement asking, never taking, as if she was something sacred.
"I'm sorry for ghosting you all these years," he breathed against her lips.
Her body burned, her heart thundered, and in the dizzying rush of heat she realized—that wasn't about distraction or escape. That was him cherishing her, piece by piece, until there was nothing left between them but fire.
"But now, seeing you like this…" His voice cracked, desire roughened. "I can't hold back anymore."
"It's okay," she whispered, voice soft but certain.
Jack's mouth claimed hers again, hungrier that time, the kiss pulling the breath right out of her. Tee clung to him, her fingers tugging at his shirt until he tore it over his head and tossed it aside.
Her eyes caught on the curse mark etched across his chest. She reached for it, tracing its ridges with trembling fingers. He shuddered under her touch. That mark—the shame he hid from the world—was laid bare to her. And she, marked in her own way, knew the weight of it. They were bound, no matter how much he tried to deny it.
Her palms flattened against his chest, feeling the steady drum of his heart, the heat of his skin. He pressed her back into the mattress, his body molding perfectly against hers, every line of him fitting into every curve of her.
When his hand slid higher beneath her shirt, brushing the edge of her bra, Tee gasped, the sound breaking into a soft whimper as he cupped her gently. His thumb traced over the thin fabric, teasing, testing, and her whole body arched into him, wordless permission in the movement.
He pulled back just long enough to look at her, eyes dark, voice rough. "Tell me to stop, Tee, and I will."
Her answer came in a desperate whisper, her lips brushing his. "Don't stop."
The tension snapped. He lifted her shirt over her head, his gaze raking over her bare skin like it was something he'd been starving for. His mouth trailed hot kisses down her collarbone, across her chest, each touch making her shiver harder, her breath catching with every new sensation.
Her hands roamed his back, nails scraping lightly as she pulled him closer, closer, until there was no space left between them. His hips pressed to hers, the hard evidence of his need against her thigh, sending a jolt of heat racing through her core.
Tee gasped his name, half plea, half surrender, her body trembling under him. Jack's lips found hers again, slow, demanding, tracing every curve with a heat that left her dizzy. His hands were everywhere—rough, gentle, claiming her, anchoring her as if letting go could unravel them both.
"I wish we were both free from this curse," he murmured against her lips, voice low, ragged, filled with longing that made her ache in places she hadn't known existed.
It wasn't just lust. It was a need. The kind of need that burned through walls, through fear, through everything that kept them apart. To be seen, to be wanted, to be needed—raw, unguarded, and terrifyingly intimate.
"I want to be with you," Tee whispered, trembling, fingers clutching at him. "Say it. Commit. Propose to me—right here. Right now."
Jack's hands stilled for a moment. His gaze darkened, haunted. "I… I can't."
Her chest shattered.
"Soon… one of us is going to die," he said, voice low, intimate, almost a caress.
"Don't say that," she gasped, tears brimming, throat tight.
"I can feel it," he murmured, brushing his lips along her neck, down her collarbone, a touch that was both tender and brutal. "Pretending I'm not one… lying to myself… it doesn't change a thing. A Xenogene is always a Xenogene."
Heat and heartbreak coiled inside her, a mix of fury, desire, and despair. She turned to flee, but his hand shot out, gripping her wrist with a strength that made her pulse hammer.
"Before either of us go," he whispered, voice dark, rough with need, "let's cross this off our list. Not everyone gets laid before they die."
Her body screamed in response even as her mind recoiled. Sweetness had curdled to ice. His words, his touch, his desire—it was all a dangerous lure. She shoved him away, sobs catching in her throat, and ran, heart aching and blood hot with want and rage.
Even as she left, the memory of him—of them—burned into her flesh and mind. Desire, fear, and grief mingled in a torment that no distance could soothe. She hated him for it, yet part of her ached, desperate and raw, for what they almost allowed themselves to have.