Page 95 of Alien War Daddy's Got Rizz
To look.
To see.
Because I’m not the same.
And she sees it.
Gods, sheseesit.
The bruised steel in my jaw. The way I don’t blink fast. The armor beneath my coat. The fire behind my eyes that hasn’t dimmed in weeks.
She’s dressed like a storm just passed through her—hair slightly undone, sleeves rolled up like she was about to fight something she didn’t understand.
Her lips part.
My name hangs there like a breath she doesn’t want to spend.
“Grau.”
I don’t answer.
I just shut the doors behind me and walk in.
“Security will—” she starts, but stops. Because we both know that’s a lie.
“They saw me,” I say. “Didn’t matter.”
She circles the desk slowly, like I’m something wild, something cornered. But her eyes don’t leave mine. They can’t. There’s something anchoring her to this moment—and I think it’s me.
“You look…” Her voice falters. “Harder.”
I smile, but it’s not kind.
“Been sharpening.”
She flinches, and I hate it, but I don’t apologize.
I’m done apologizing.
I stop two feet from her. Close enough to see the sleeplessness etched under her lashes. The fine tremble in her jaw. The glint of disbelief trying to bury itself in indignation.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” she says, but it’s barely more than a whisper now.
I nod once. “I know.”
“Why now?”
Her voice is thinner than it was a minute ago. She crosses her arms, tight against herself, like it’s the only way to hold her ribs together.
I reach into my coat.
Her whole body goes taut, not from fear—no, from memory.
Fromexpectation.
From knowing the last time I reached for something, the world changed.
But I don’t draw a weapon.
