Nobody's Daughter

Aaliyah

The walk back to the hotel was silent, but not in a way that felt empty. Every step they took, hand in hand, seemed to charge the air around them with something unspoken—something that had been quietly building between them for days. The cobblestones beneath their feet gleamed faintly in the afternoon light, the streets of Salzburg bustling with life around them, but Aaliyah barely noticed any of it. Her focus was on Cruz.

She stole glances at her as they walked, taking in the sharp lines of her profile, the tension in her jaw, the way her dark eyes remained ever vigilant, scanning their surroundings with a practiced ease. Cruz was always on alert, always in control. But today, Aaliyah had seen something different. In the courtyard, with danger lingering just a few feet away, Cruz had dropped her guard—not just physically, but emotionally. The way she’d held Aaliyah, whispered reassurances, kissed her neck to calm her… It had been tender, protective, and completely unlike the stoic bodyguard Aaliyah had first met.

And yet, it hadn’t felt strange. It had felt right.

Her fingers tightened slightly around Cruz’s, and for a brief moment, Cruz glanced down at their joined hands, her expression flickering with something unreadable before she quickly turned her attention back to the street ahead. Aaliyah felt a small, secret smile tug at her lips. Cruz might have been trying to hide it, but Aaliyah had seen enough to know that whatever was happening between them, Cruz felt it too.

As they neared the hotel, Aaliyah felt the tension in her chest rise again—not from fear or uncertainty, but from anticipation. What now? What happened next, after that kiss in the courtyard, after the quiet intimacy they’d shared in the face of danger? She didn’t have an answer, but she knew one thing: she wasn’t going to let Cruz retreat behind her walls without a fight.

The hotel lobby was warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the cool air outside. The soft hum of conversation and the distant clinking of glassware filled the space, but to Aaliyah, it all felt distant—like background noise in a scene where only she and Cruz mattered. She held on to Cruz’s hand a little longer than necessary as they crossed the marble floor, only letting go when they reached the elevator.

As the elevator doors closed behind them, sealing them in a small, quiet space together, Aaliyah felt her pulse quicken. The tension between them was palpable, electric, as if the air itself had thickened. Cruz stood beside her, her posture rigid, eyes fixed on the glowing floor numbers above the door, but Aaliyah could see the way her fingers twitched slightly at her side—nervous, uncertain.

Aaliyah wanted to reach out, to lace her fingers through Cruz’s again, but something held her back. Instead, she leaned against the wall, watching Cruz out of the corner of her eye, waiting for her to speak. But Cruz said nothing, her silence only adding to the weight pressing down on them.

When the elevator chimed softly and the doors slid open, Cruz stepped out first, her hand instinctively resting near her hip, as if ready to reach for a weapon at any moment. Aaliyah followed, heart pounding as they made their way down the hall to their suite. Every step felt heavier than the last, anticipation and uncertainty mingling in a way that left her breathless.

Cruz unlocked the door with practiced ease, pushing it open and stepping aside to let Aaliyah in first. The moment she crossed the threshold, Aaliyah felt the familiar warmth of the suite envelop her, but it did little to ease the tension coiled in her chest. She turned to watch Cruz close the door behind them, locking it with a quiet click before finally turning to face her.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence stretched, heavy and charged, as if they were both waiting for the other to make the first move. Aaliyah’s heart pounded in her chest, each beat echoing in her ears as she searched Cruz’s face for some sign of what she was thinking.

But Cruz’s expression was as unreadable as ever, her dark eyes guarded, her jaw tight. It was the same look she always wore when things got too personal, too close. The look that said she was ready to pull away, to retreat behind the walls she’d spent a lifetime building.

Not this time.

“Are you okay?” Cruz asked, her voice steady but quieter than usual, like she was afraid of breaking whatever fragile thing hung between them.

Aaliyah smiled softly, stepping closer. “You’re always asking me that.”

“Because I mean it,” Cruz replied, her gaze flicking to Aaliyah’s lips before darting away again. “Today could’ve gone bad. Really bad.”

“But it didn’t,” Aaliyah said, her voice gentler now. She reached out, fingers brushing lightly against Cruz’s wrist. The contact was brief, fleeting, but it sent a ripple of warmth through her. “Because you were there.”

Cruz didn’t pull away, but she didn’t move closer either. Her walls were still up, but Aaliyah could see the cracks forming—could feel the way Cruz’s steady facade wavered, just for her. It was enough to give her courage.

“You don’t have to protect me from everything, you know,” Aaliyah said softly, stepping into Cruz’s space. “I’m stronger than I look.”

Cruz’s eyes darkened, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her features. “I know you are.”

“Good.” Aaliyah smiled, her fingers trailing up Cruz’s arm, deliberate but slow, giving Cruz time to stop her. “Because right now, I don’t need you to be my protector. I just… need you.”

The admission hung between them, heavy and real. For a moment, Cruz said nothing, her breath hitching slightly as Aaliyah’s hand settled on her shoulder. Their eyes met, and Aaliyah saw the conflict in Cruz’s gaze—the fear, the longing, the undeniable pull that neither of them could ignore.

“You don’t have to do this,” Cruz whispered, her voice rough, like it cost her something to say the words.

“I know,” Aaliyah replied, her voice steady despite the way her heart pounded. “But I want to.”

She didn’t wait for Cruz to respond. Instead, she leaned in, pressing her lips to Cruz’s in a kiss that was soft but insistent, a question and a promise all at once. Cruz froze for a heartbeat, as if caught off guard by the shift in their dynamic. But then, slowly, she responded, her lips moving against Aaliyah’s with a quiet intensity that made Aaliyah’s knees go weak.

Aaliyah deepened the kiss, her hands sliding up to frame Cruz’s face, fingers threading into her dark hair. Cruz’s hands found her waist, hesitant at first but growing bolder as the kiss continued. There was something tender about the way Cruz touched her, as if she was afraid of breaking her, but Aaliyah didn’t want tenderness—not right now. She wanted more.

She pressed closer, guiding Cruz backward until her back hit the wall. The impact was soft, cushioned by Aaliyah’s body pressed against hers, but it sent a thrill through her all the same. She could feel Cruz’s heart racing beneath her palm, matching the frantic beat of her own.

Cruz broke the kiss first, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps. “Aaliyah…” Her voice was low, hoarse, filled with a mix of desire and restraint.

“I know,” Aaliyah whispered, resting her forehead against Cruz’s. “But don’t pull away. Not now.”

Cruz closed her eyes, exhaling slowly as if trying to steady herself. When she opened them again, they were filled with something Aaliyah hadn’t seen before—vulnerability, yes, but also trust. Quiet, tentative trust.

“I’m not used to this,” Cruz admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “Letting someone in.”

Aaliyah smiled, her fingers brushing gently along Cruz’s jaw. “That’s okay. We’ll figure it out together.”

The words were simple, but they carried a weight that neither of them could ignore. Cruz didn’t respond—not with words, at least. Instead, she pulled Aaliyah into another kiss, this one slower, more deliberate, like she was letting herself feel every moment of it.

Aaliyah let herself melt into the kiss, the world beyond the hotel suite fading away until there was only Cruz—her warmth, her strength, her quiet, steady presence that made Aaliyah feel safer than she ever had before. This wasn’t just about passion. It was about something deeper, something real.

When they finally pulled apart, Aaliyah rested her head against Cruz’s shoulder, her arms wrapping around her waist. Cruz’s hands settled on her back, holding her close, neither of them speaking as the silence stretched on. It wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind of silence that felt like home.

“I don’t know what this means,” Cruz said quietly after a while, her voice barely audible.

“Neither do I,” Aaliyah admitted, her smile soft against Cruz’s neck. “But I know I don’t want it to stop.”

She didn’t wait for Cruz to respond. Instead, she leaned in, pressing her lips to Cruz’s with a tenderness that belied the tension coiling in her chest. Cruz froze for a heartbeat, just like she had before, but then she softened, her lips moving against Aaliyah’s with a tentative kind of need, as though testing the waters of something she didn’t quite know how to navigate.

Aaliyah guided the kiss, her hand slipping up to cup Cruz’s jaw, fingers brushing against the edge of her hair. Cruz’s breath hitched, and Aaliyah felt a thrill run through her—a heady mix of power and affection that made her heart race. She deepened the kiss slowly, deliberately, giving Cruz time to catch up, to let herself feel without fear.

When they finally broke apart, Cruz’s eyes were half-lidded, her breathing uneven. Aaliyah smiled, brushing her thumb over Cruz’s cheek. “You’re allowed to want this, you know.”

Cruz swallowed hard, her gaze flicking down briefly before meeting Aaliyah’s again. “It’s not that simple,” she said, her voice quieter now, more vulnerable.

Aaliyah’s heart ached at the conflict she saw there—the way Cruz seemed torn between letting herself fall and holding herself back. She knew Cruz carried scars, both visible and unseen, and that trust didn’t come easily to her. But Aaliyah wasn’t asking for all of her, not yet. She just wanted this moment.

“It doesn’t have to be,” Aaliyah said gently. “Just… let me take care of you.”

The words hung in the air, a quiet promise that made Cruz’s breath hitch again. Aaliyah could see the way her walls wavered, the way she fought against the instinct to pull away. Slowly, hesitantly, Cruz nodded, a silent acquiescence that made Aaliyah’s chest tighten with desire.

She guided Cruz backward until the backs of her knees hit the edge of the bed, and Cruz sat down without resistance, her eyes never leaving Aaliyah’s. Aaliyah followed, straddling Cruz’s lap with a confidence she didn’t entirely feel but knew she needed to show. If Cruz was going to trust her, she needed to trust herself too.

Their lips met again, slower this time, deeper. Aaliyah let her hands roam, tracing the line of Cruz’s shoulders, the curve of her neck. Cruz’s hands settled tentatively on Aaliyah’s waist, her grip light, almost uncertain.

“You don’t have to hold back,” Aaliyah whispered against Cruz’s lips, her fingers tangling in her hair. “I’m not going to break.”

Cruz exhaled shakily, her grip tightening slightly as if testing her own strength. Aaliyah smiled, pressing another kiss to the corner of her mouth before trailing down to her jaw, her lips brushing lightly against the sensitive skin there. Cruz’s breath hitched again, her fingers flexing against Aaliyah’s waist.

Aaliyah continued her slow exploration, her lips trailing down to Cruz’s neck, where she pressed a series of soft, deliberate kisses. Cruz tilted her head slightly, giving her more access, and Aaliyah took full advantage, letting her lips linger, letting her teeth graze just enough to elicit a quiet gasp.

The sound sent a thrill through Aaliyah, her confidence growing with each passing second. She pulled back just enough to meet Cruz’s gaze, her own breath coming in shallow puffs. Cruz looked up at her with a mixture of awe and uncertainty, as though she couldn’t quite believe this was happening.

“You okay?” Aaliyah asked softly, her fingers brushing over Cruz’s cheek in a tender gesture.

Cruz nodded, her hands tightening slightly on Aaliyah’s waist. “Yeah,” she said, her voice rough but steady. “Just… not used to this.”

Aaliyah’s heart swelled at the admission. She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Cruz’s forehead before whispering, “We’ll take it slow. No rush.”

Cruz’s eyes softened, and it was a small victory, but it felt monumental. She cupped Cruz’s face in her hands, her thumbs brushing over her cheekbones as she kissed her again, slow and deliberate, pouring every unspoken word into the kiss.

Aaliyah felt the steady beat of Cruz’s heart beneath her palm, the rhythm grounding her as she lingered in the warmth of their closeness. Every inch of Cruz seemed tense, as if she didn’t quite know how to relax, even now. That tension was part of who she was—cautious, controlled—but Aaliyah wanted to give her something different. Something softer.

Her fingers traced slow, deliberate patterns along Cruz’s jawline, memorizing the sharp edges and soft curves. “You don’t have to be so careful with me,” Aaliyah whispered, her voice steady but gentle. “I’m right here.”

Cruz exhaled slowly, her grip on Aaliyah’s waist easing ever so slightly. “It’s just… new,” she admitted, her voice low, rough with emotion she didn’t often share.

“I know,” Aaliyah replied, leaning in to press a soft kiss to the corner of Cruz’s mouth.

She could feel Cruz’s hesitation, the way she fought against instincts honed by years of guarding herself against the world. But Aaliyah wasn’t here to break her down—she wanted to help Cruz open up in her own time, in her own way. Slowly, deliberately, she let her lips trail along Cruz’s jaw, pressing soft, lingering kisses that made Cruz’s breath hitch in response.

Every touch felt like a quiet affirmation—this is real, this is safe, this is ours.

“You’re thinking too much,” Aaliyah murmured, pulling back just enough to meet Cruz’s eyes. There was a flicker of something vulnerable in her dark gaze, something Aaliyah hadn’t seen before. “Let me help you stop thinking for a while.”

Before Cruz could respond, Aaliyah leaned in again, capturing her lips in a kiss that was both tender and insistent. This time, Cruz didn’t hesitate. Her hands slid up Aaliyah’s back, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them. The warmth of her touch, the firmness of her grip, sent a rush of heat through Aaliyah’s veins, but it wasn’t just desire. It was something deeper, something more profound.

Her hands were steady as they explored, as they learned the feel of Cruz beneath her fingers. Every touch, every kiss, felt like a silent conversation—a way of saying things neither of them had the words for. Cruz responded in kind, her movements growing bolder, more certain, but Aaliyah never let her take control entirely. Not tonight.

Tonight, Aaliyah wanted to lead.

She pulled back slightly, her hands resting on either side of Cruz’s face as she gazed down at her. Cruz looked up at her with a mix of awe and uncertainty, as though she couldn’t quite believe this was happening. Aaliyah smiled softly, brushing her thumb over Cruz’s cheek.

“You’re beautiful,” she said quietly, the words slipping out before she could think twice. “You should hear that more often.”

Cruz’s lips parted slightly, her breath catching at the unexpected compliment. Aaliyah saw the way her jaw tensed, the way she struggled to accept something so simple, so honest. But she didn’t let her retreat. She leaned in, pressing another kiss to Cruz’s lips, slow and deliberate, giving her time to feel it, to believe it.

“Let me take care of you,” Aaliyah whispered against her lips, her voice barely audible but carrying the weight of everything she felt. “For once, let someone else take the lead.”

Cruz didn’t respond with words, but the way she relaxed beneath Aaliyah, the way her hands gripped her just a little tighter, was answer enough. Aaliyah kissed her again, her heart pounding in her chest as she let herself be fully present in the moment—no fear, no doubts, just them.

Time blurred as they continued, every touch, every kiss building on the last. Aaliyah reveled in the quiet strength of Cruz beneath her, in the way she let herself be vulnerable, if only for tonight. And as they lay tangled together, the world beyond their suite faded into nothingness, leaving only the steady rhythm of their breaths and the quiet certainty of what they’d found in each other.

Cruz

The walk back to the hotel was silent, but not awkward. Every step they took, hand in hand, felt charged with unspoken tension. The streets of Salzburg were lively—tourists chattered happily as they passed, the occasional street musician played softly—but none of that mattered. Cruz was hyper-aware of Aaliyah at her side, of the warmth of her hand in hers. And she hated how much she noticed it.

She shouldn’t have been holding Aaliyah’s hand at all—at least, not like this. Holding her to protect her? That made sense. But this? Walking through the streets like they were just… two people on a date? It made Cruz feel unsteady in a way she wasn’t used to. It was too close, too personal.

And yet, she didn’t let go.

She tried to focus on her surroundings, forcing herself to scan the street for any signs of danger. But her mind kept drifting back to the courtyard. To the way she’d pulled Aaliyah against her, how natural it had felt to comfort her, to shield her—not just because it was her job, but because it was her. And that realization unsettled her more than any potential threat.

As they neared the hotel, Cruz felt the familiar tension creep back into her shoulders. The job wasn’t over. The danger hadn’t passed. She couldn’t afford to get distracted, couldn’t afford to—

Aaliyah’s fingers squeezed hers lightly, pulling Cruz from her spiraling thoughts. She glanced down, catching the small, secret smile playing on Aaliyah’s lips. Cruz’s heart stuttered, and for a moment, she forgot why she was trying so hard to keep her distance.

She didn’t know what to make of any of this—of the warmth that lingered from their kiss, of the way Aaliyah seemed to see right through every wall she tried to put up.

The hotel lobby was warm and bright, bustling with the quiet hum of conversation and the clinking of glassware. Cruz didn’t relax until they were inside the elevator, watching the doors close behind them. The small space felt even smaller with Aaliyah standing so close, her presence a quiet weight that Cruz couldn’t ignore.

The silence stretched between them, thick with something unspoken. Cruz kept her eyes fixed on the glowing floor numbers above, pretending she didn’t notice the way Aaliyah was watching her. She didn’t trust herself to speak, didn’t trust herself not to say something she couldn’t take back.

When the elevator chimed softly and the doors slid open, Cruz stepped out first, scanning the hallway before unlocking the door to their suite. She held the door open for Aaliyah, who slipped inside with a quiet grace that Cruz always noticed, even when she didn’t want to.

The moment they were inside, Cruz locked the door behind them, her fingers pausing briefly on the deadbolt. She turned to find Aaliyah standing in the middle of the room, watching her with that same quiet intensity she always did when she was trying to figure Cruz out.

“Are you okay?” Cruz asked, her voice steadier than she felt.

Aaliyah smiled softly, stepping closer. “You’re always asking me that.”

“Because I mean it,” Cruz replied, her gaze flicking briefly to Aaliyah’s lips before she forced herself to look away.

Aaliyah took another step forward, closing the distance between them. “You don’t have to protect me from everything, you know. I’m stronger than I look.”

“I know you are,” Cruz said quietly. She did know. Aaliyah had proven it time and again, surprising Cruz with her resilience, her determination. But that didn’t stop Cruz from wanting to protect her.

“Good,” Aaliyah murmured, her voice softer now. Her fingers brushed lightly against Cruz’s wrist, and Cruz felt her breath hitch. “Because right now, I don’t need you to be my protector. I just… need you.”

Cruz’s heart pounded in her chest, every instinct screaming at her to retreat, to put up the walls that had always kept her safe. But she couldn’t. Not with Aaliyah standing so close, looking at her like she was something worth holding on to.

“You don’t have to do this,” Cruz whispered, her voice rough with restraint.

“I know,” Aaliyah said, her eyes never leaving Cruz’s. “But I want to.”

Before Cruz could say anything else, Aaliyah leaned in, pressing her lips to Cruz’s in a kiss that was soft but insistent. Cruz froze, caught off guard by the shift in their dynamic. But then Aaliyah kissed her again, and something in Cruz unraveled.

She responded slowly at first, hesitant, unsure. But Aaliyah didn’t give her time to overthink it. She deepened the kiss, her hands sliding up to frame Cruz’s face, fingers tangling gently in her hair. Cruz’s hands found Aaliyah’s waist, holding on like she was afraid to let go.

The kiss was slow, deliberate, and it made Cruz’s head spin. She wasn’t used to this—to letting herself feel, to letting someone else take control. But Aaliyah was leading, and Cruz… Cruz didn’t mind following.

She wasn’t sure who moved first, but suddenly they were moving together, and before she knew it, Cruz’s back hit the wall. The impact was soft, cushioned by the press of Aaliyah’s body against hers, but it sent a thrill through her all the same. She felt Aaliyah’s heart pounding in sync with her own, felt the steady strength in the way Aaliyah held her.

When Aaliyah finally pulled back, Cruz was breathless, her mind a whirl of emotions she didn’t know how to sort through. “Aaliyah…” Her voice came out low, rough, filled with a mix of longing and hesitation.

“I know,” Aaliyah whispered, resting her forehead against Cruz’s. “But don’t pull away. Not now.”

Cruz closed her eyes, exhaling slowly as she tried to steady herself. Everything about this felt dangerous—like walking a razor’s edge—but she didn’t want to pull away. Not now. Not when being this close to Aaliyah felt like the first real thing she’d had in years.

“I’m not used to this,” Cruz admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “Letting someone in.”

Aaliyah smiled, her fingers brushing gently along Cruz’s jaw. “That’s okay. We’ll figure it out together.”

The words were simple, but they carried a weight that made Cruz’s chest ache. She didn’t trust easily—she couldn’t afford to—but Aaliyah wasn’t asking for blind trust. She was offering something far more dangerous: hope.

Cruz didn’t respond—not with words, at least. Instead, she pulled Aaliyah into another kiss, slower this time, more deliberate. She let herself feel everything—the warmth, the connection, the quiet promise that maybe, just maybe, this was something worth holding on to.

“You’re allowed to want this, you know,” Aaliyah said softly, her voice steady but laced with emotion.

Cruz swallowed hard, searching Aaliyah’s eyes for any hint of hesitation, but all she found was quiet assurance. Aaliyah wasn’t asking for more than Cruz was willing to give—she was offering something Cruz hadn’t known she needed.

“It’s not that simple,” Cruz said quietly, her voice rough with the weight of her unspoken fears. She wasn’t used to this kind of vulnerability. Letting someone in like this meant risking everything—her heart, her focus, her ability to keep Aaliyah safe.

“I know it’s not,” Aaliyah replied, her fingers brushing along Cruz’s jaw, gentle but insistent. “But it doesn’t have to be complicated either. Just… let me take care of you.”

Take care of her.

The words hit Cruz in a way she wasn’t prepared for. She had spent so long being the one who protected, who carried the weight, who never asked for anything in return. The idea of letting someone take care of her felt foreign. Scary. But as Aaliyah leaned in, pressing another soft kiss to her lips, Cruz found herself wanting to believe that maybe, just this once, it could be different.

Cruz didn’t know when she let herself fall into this—into Aaliyah’s touch, into her kiss—but there was no denying the pull. Every careful boundary she had built over the years seemed to crack and give way under Aaliyah’s warmth, her persistence, her sheer presence.

As Aaliyah guided her toward the bed, Cruz let herself be led, something she wasn’t used to. She had spent her life staying in control—of her emotions, of her surroundings, of every situation. But now, standing in front of Aaliyah, her heart pounding in her chest, she realized she didn’t mind relinquishing that control. Not with Aaliyah.

They reached the edge of the bed, and Cruz hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her features. Aaliyah noticed, her hand coming up to cup Cruz’s cheek, thumb brushing gently over her skin in a way that was both grounding and electrifying.

She didn’t resist as Aaliyah deepened the kiss, her hands finding Cruz’s waist with a confidence that sent a rush of heat through her. Cruz’s breath hitched as Aaliyah guided her down onto the bed, their bodies pressing together in a way that made everything else fall away.

Aaliyah was in control now, and Cruz didn’t mind. In fact, it was strangely comforting—letting someone else take the lead, letting someone else hold the weight for a while. Aaliyah’s touch was both grounding and electric, each kiss, each caress, sending waves of warmth coursing through her.

“You’re thinking too much again,” Aaliyah murmured against her lips, her voice teasing but affectionate.

Cruz exhaled sharply, her lips twitching into the faintest hint of a smile. “It’s kind of my thing.”

“Well,” Aaliyah said, pressing a kiss to Cruz’s jaw, then her neck, her lips lingering in a way that made Cruz’s heart race. “Let me help you stop thinking.”

And for once, Cruz let herself do just that.

Aaliyah’s kisses grew more insistent, more certain, as if she could sense the walls Cruz was still trying to keep up. Cruz felt her hands tremble slightly as she traced the curve of Aaliyah’s back, felt the steady beat of Aaliyah’s heart beneath her palm. It wasn’t just desire—it was trust, quiet and tentative but real.

“You’re beautiful,” Aaliyah whispered, her lips brushing against Cruz’s ear in a way that made her shiver. “You should hear that more often.”

Cruz opened her mouth to respond, to brush off the compliment like she always did, but the words caught in her throat. No one had ever said that to her before—not like this, not with so much honesty that it left her breathless.

She didn’t know how to respond, so instead, she kissed Aaliyah again, letting the depth of her emotions speak where words failed her. Aaliyah responded in kind, her hands sliding into Cruz’s hair, anchoring her in the moment.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Cruz let herself be present—truly present. No mission, no danger, no running. Just Aaliyah.

Aaliyah, who kissed her like she was something worth cherishing. Aaliyah, who held her like she wasn’t afraid of the weight Cruz carried. Aaliyah, who made her want to believe in things she had long since stopped hoping for.

“Let me take care of you,” Aaliyah whispered again, her voice a quiet promise that made Cruz’s heart ache in the best way.

And for once, Cruz didn’t argue. She didn’t try to take control, didn’t try to pull away. She let Aaliyah lead, let herself be cared for, let herself feel.

Because with Aaliyah, it didn’t feel like weakness.

It felt like home.

--

The room was dark except for the faint glow of the streetlights filtering through the curtains. The quiet buzz of the city outside barely reached them, muffled by the warmth and stillness inside the hotel suite. Cruz lay on her back, her head tilted slightly toward Aaliyah, who was nestled beside her, an arm draped across Cruz’s stomach. Their breathing was slow, steady, in perfect sync. Everything was quiet. Peaceful.

But inside Cruz, a storm churned.

She hadn’t expected this—not the way her body felt so light, yet her chest so heavy with emotion. Not the way every guarded part of her had unraveled in Aaliyah’s arms, leaving her bare in a way she didn’t know how to process.

For years, Cruz had been nothing but walls. Walls to protect herself from the world, from the people who hurt her, from the memories she couldn’t escape. But tonight, for the first time in a long time, those walls hadn’t just cracked—they had crumbled completely.

And now, lying here in the dark, with Aaliyah’s warmth pressed against her, Cruz felt something she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in years.

Safe.

The realization hit her like a gut punch, overwhelming in its quiet intensity. She didn’t even realize she was crying until the first tear slipped down her cheek, warm and unbidden. She inhaled sharply, trying to pull herself together, but it only made the ache in her chest worse.

Aaliyah stirred beside her, lifting her head slightly. “Cruz?” she murmured, her voice soft with concern. Her hand moved gently to Cruz’s cheek, brushing away the tear that had escaped. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Cruz whispered, her voice rough and strained. She turned her head away, embarrassed by the emotion she couldn’t seem to control. “I’m fine.”

But Aaliyah didn’t let her retreat. She shifted, propping herself up on one elbow so she could look down at Cruz. Her touch was light as she stroked Cruz’s cheek, her fingers gentle but steady. “It’s okay,” she whispered, her tone filled with quiet reassurance. “You don’t have to be fine.”

Cruz closed her eyes, more tears slipping free despite her efforts to hold them back. She had always been strong, always kept everything locked away. But here, now, with Aaliyah, she didn’t want to be strong. She just wanted to feel.

“I’m sorry,” Cruz muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t—this isn’t—” She broke off, frustrated by her inability to explain the storm of emotions inside her.

“Shh,” Aaliyah soothed, pressing a soft kiss to Cruz’s temple. “You don’t have to explain. Just let it out.”

The tenderness in Aaliyah’s voice, in her touch, undid Cruz completely. She didn’t fight the tears anymore, didn’t try to hold back the quiet sobs that escaped her. She let herself cry, let herself feel everything she had kept bottled up for so long.

Aaliyah held her through it all, her arms wrapped securely around Cruz, one hand gently stroking her hair. She didn’t say much—just soft, comforting murmurs of, “You’re okay,” and “I’m here,” and “You don’t have to carry it alone.”

Minutes passed, or maybe hours—she wasn’t sure. All she knew was that the storm inside her had quieted, leaving a strange, unfamiliar calm in its wake. Aaliyah was still holding her, her fingers threading gently through Cruz’s hair in a soothing rhythm.

“Thank you,” Cruz whispered finally, her voice hoarse from crying.

Aaliyah pressed another kiss to her temple, her lips lingering there for a moment. “You don’t have to thank me,” she said softly. “You’ve been carrying so much for so long. You deserve to let someone else carry it with you.”

Cruz was silent for a moment, her mind turning over Aaliyah’s words. She wasn’t used to this—wasn’t used to letting anyone in, to trusting anyone with the parts of herself she kept hidden. But with Aaliyah, it felt… right. Safe.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Cruz said quietly, her gaze fixed on the ceiling. “Things I don’t talk about. Things I don’t… share.”

Aaliyah shifted slightly so she could look at Cruz, her expression open and patient. “You don’t have to share anything you’re not ready to,” she said gently. “But if you want to, I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

Cruz swallowed hard, the weight of Aaliyah’s words settling in her chest. She didn’t know where to start, didn’t know how to put years of pain and fear into words. But she wanted to try. For Aaliyah.

“I wasn’t always… this,” Cruz began hesitantly, gesturing vaguely to herself. “Before the Marines, before the CIA, before all of this—I was just a kid trying to survive.”

Aaliyah listened quietly, her hand still resting on Cruz’s chest, the steady beat of her heart beneath her fingers grounding them both.

“I grew up in a rough neighborhood,” Cruz continued, her voice low and steady now, as though recounting a story that didn’t quite belong to her. “My mom worked two jobs, barely made enough to keep us afloat. After my brother and mom died… I… I made a lot of bad choices. Got into trouble. Fell in with the wrong people. Just tried to survive.”

She paused, her jaw tightening as memories surfaced—memories she didn’t often let herself think about. But Aaliyah’s touch, her quiet presence, made it easier.

“There was this guy—Edgar,” Cruz said, her voice colder now. “He… he offered me a way out. Said he’d take care of me, give me a better life. And I was stupid enough to believe him.”

Aaliyah’s hand tightened slightly on Cruz’s chest, a silent show of support as Cruz continued.

“He was… abusive. Controlling. He made me feel like I was nothing, like I couldn’t survive without him. And when I finally tried to leave… he almost killed me.”

The words hung heavy in the air, and for a moment, Cruz couldn’t speak. She felt Aaliyah shift beside her, felt her hand move to cup her cheek, her touch gentle but grounding.

“I got out,” Cruz said quietly, her voice steadier now. “Barely. And after that… I didn’t let anyone in. Not really. I couldn’t.”

Aaliyah’s eyes were filled with empathy, understanding, and something deeper. “You don’t have to carry that alone anymore,” Aaliyah said softly. “You’re not alone, Cruz.”