The boat's engine dies down as we glide into the shadowy cove of the island. Returning to Assassination University, our wrists are still linked by the cold, unyielding handcuffs Professor Carn insisted upon. His unique way of promoting a 'bonding' experience
Pun absolutely intended.
"Carn's going to have a field day with this," I mutter, glancing at our joined hands.
Lonnie gives a lopsided smile, the moonlight catching the edge of his jaw. "Maybe. But we’ll definitely need Dr. Hayward to at least give us a two-for-one deal on therapy sessions."
We shuffle up the moonlit path to Carn's office—a clumsy tango of two operatives too accustomed to solo missions. I can't ignore the warmth from Lonnie's hand, an unexpected comfort in the cool night air.
Carn is waiting, perched like a scholarly owl among his books and screens. "Ah, the dynamic duo returns, still attached at the hip—or wrist, rather," Carn observes dryly. "Now, debrief, please."
We launch into the tale, a well-rehearsed narrative of our escapades in Venice, while Carn listens, his fingers steepled. I notice the way Lonnie's thumb brushes against my skin, a distraction I'm not equipped to handle.
"And the departure?" Carn inquires, his eyes finally on us.
"Secured," Lonnie confirms. “Maximillion has left this world never to return.”
"Excellent work," Carn says with a nod. "Now, for the matter of your... accessory."
He draws a key from his pocket and stands, moving toward us. As he unlocks the handcuffs, I feel a ridiculous pang of loss. The metal falls away, and suddenly there's too much space between us.
"Valentine's Day liberty is granted. Don't do anything I wouldn't do," Carn says, a rare smirk crossing his lips as he turns back to his desk, dismissing us.
Gasp! Did Carn know all along of how I felt about Lonnie?
We exit into the cool night, the absence of the handcuff's weight oddly tangible. Lonnie stops, turning to face me under the arbored walkway, lined with twinkling lights.
"Odyssey," he starts, his voice a low rumble, "I've been thinking—"
"About how Carn might have a less... medieval approach to team-building?" I interject, trying to steer away from the sudden seriousness in his eyes.
"No," he says, stepping closer. "About us. This... thing between us. It's not just about being stuck together on this mission, is it?"
The question hangs in the air, heavier than any handcuff.
"Lonnie, I—" My words falter as he reaches up, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch sending my heart into overdrive.
"I've got a confession, Odyssey," Lonnie continues, his eyes never leaving mine. "Being chained to you today…watching you flirt with all those speed daters…it made me realize something. I don't want to be free of this, of you."
His words enfold me, an unexpected embrace of sentiment that stills the air in my lungs. I blink, my mind racing to keep pace with the heartbeat thundering in my ears. "So, you needed cold steel to warm up to me?"
The corner of his mouth jumps up, and he steps in, closing the scant space between us. "Let's just say I appreciate direct feedback."
His hands find my face, and suddenly, we're not two operatives skilled in the art of subterfuge; we're just Lonnie and Odyssey, awkward and raw. His lips meet mine with the tentative touch of a question, one I answer without hesitation. The kiss deepens, a slow unfolding of narratives we've been writing separately, now converging into a shared chapter.
The world retreats, leaving only the sensation of Lonnie's lips on mine, the brush of his thumb along my jaw, the soft intake of his breath syncing with my own. The kiss is an unspoken promise, a clumsy yet earnest dance of give and take that says more than our reports ever could.
We part, a mere whisper of space returning between us, both of us wearing matching expressions of wonder tinged with disbelief. "Wow," I exhale, my voice a wisp of sound in the evening air.
"Understatement of the year," he replies, his eyes still locked with mine, a smile tugging insistently at his lips.
I'm hit with the sudden, absurd urge to laugh—because of course, it would be amidst the espionage, the danger, and the poison pills that I'd find this. This ridiculous, heart-stopping thing with Lonnie.
"I guess we're quite the pair," I say, my voice steadier than I feel.
He grins, "Yeah, a perfect match. Like spies and secrecy. Or... handcuffs and hostages."
I roll my eyes, but I'm smiling, really smiling. "Don't forget about lock and key."
He laughs, the sound mingling with the soft rustle of leaves in the night breeze. "Well, I've always been good at picking locks."
I nod, my heart still doing acrobatics inside my ribcage. "So, does this mean we're partners in more than just death?"
Lonnie's smile is answer enough, but he seals it with another kiss, right there under the stars and the watchful eyes of the secret island that's our strange, dangerous home.
“Yes,” he breathes against my lips. “Because you give me life.”
And as much as I'd like to blame the handcuffs for this turn of events, I know it's all us—unlocked affections and all.