A New Beginning?
Aaliyah
The morning light spilled through the stained-glass windows of the villa in soft hues of gold, pink, and blue, painting delicate patterns across the polished wood floor. Aaliyah stirred beneath the luxurious, crisp sheets, the air cool against her bare shoulders. For a fleeting moment, she felt disoriented, caught between the fading haze of sleep and the strange, vivid beauty of her surroundings. Then it all came rushing back—Milan, the villa, the events of the past few days. And Cruz.
Her eyes fluttered open, and the first thing she noticed was the warmth missing from her side. She turned her head toward the window, where the golden sunlight seemed to focus as though it had chosen a singular subject to illuminate. There, standing against the ornate window frame, was Cruz. She had already dressed, her dark jeans and fitted black T-shirt perfectly tailored to her frame, the quiet confidence of her stance unmistakable. A steaming mug of coffee was nestled in one hand, while the other rested loosely on the windowsill. Her gaze was fixed outside, her expression unreadable but intense, the tension in her jaw a faint reminder of how she rarely allowed herself to relax.
Aaliyah felt her heart give a quiet flutter. Cruz looked almost otherworldly in the morning light, as if the universe had conspired to make her glow with an effortless radiance. But more than that, she looked steady. Grounded. And despite the storms that seemed to chase them at every turn, Aaliyah felt an undeniable sense of safety just watching her.
She lingered in bed a moment longer, reluctant to disturb the peaceful stillness. The soft crackle of the fireplace in the sitting room hummed faintly in the background, and for the first time in weeks, Aaliyah allowed herself to savor the calm. The weight that had pressed down on her chest since they left Salzburg was still there, but it felt lighter now, buffered by the realization that she wasn’t facing any of this alone. Cruz was here—had always been here.
Slipping quietly from the bed, Aaliyah padded across the room on bare feet. The cold wood under her toes sent a slight shiver up her spine, but it was nothing compared to the warmth blooming in her chest as she approached Cruz. The subtle lines of tension in Cruz’s shoulders, the quiet determination in her stance—Aaliyah wanted to smooth them away, to remind Cruz that she didn’t have to carry the weight of everything alone.
Without a word, Aaliyah looped her arms around Cruz’s shoulders from behind, leaning her chin lightly on top of Cruz’s head. The soft strands of her dark hair tickled Aaliyah’s cheek, and she couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips. Cruz stiffened briefly at the unexpected touch, but then she relaxed, her free hand lifting to rest lightly over Aaliyah’s forearm.
“Do you ever stop thinking?” Aaliyah teased gently, her voice still husky with sleep.
Cruz’s fingers lightly traced over Aaliyah’s forearm, a barely-there gesture, but it was grounding. “Not really,” she admitted, her voice low and even. “Someone has to stay ahead.”
Aaliyah chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to the top of Cruz’s head. “I think you’ve earned at least five minutes off.”
Cruz turned her head slightly, her dark eyes glancing up at Aaliyah. For a moment, she looked as though she might argue, but instead, her gaze softened, and the faintest ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. It was fleeting, but Aaliyah caught it, and her heart swelled with quiet triumph. She tightened her arms around Cruz’s shoulders, resting her cheek against her hair.
“You don’t always have to be the one thinking ahead, you know,” Aaliyah murmured, her tone laced with affection. “We’re in this together.”
Cruz didn’t respond immediately, her gaze returning to the window. Aaliyah followed her line of sight, her own eyes taking in the vibrant streets of Milan that stretched beyond the courtyard walls. There was something enchanting about this city, something alive and full of possibility. It was a stark contrast to the constant tension and fear that had followed them from place to place. But Aaliyah could feel it creeping in, the unease that Cruz tried so hard to hide. It was in the way her fingers lightly tapped against the windowsill, the way her shoulders remained taut even in moments like this.
“Do you ever just stop and enjoy the view?” Aaliyah asked, her voice breaking the quiet spell.
Cruz’s gaze flicked to her again, this time holding her gaze longer. “The view’s better here,” she said quietly, her tone carrying an undercurrent of meaning that made Aaliyah’s cheeks flush.
Aaliyah smiled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to Cruz’s temple. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re relentless,” Cruz replied, though there was no heat in her words.
“Perfect match,” Aaliyah quipped, stepping back and brushing her fingers lightly along Cruz’s arm as she moved toward the kitchen. “Stay there. I’m making breakfast.”
Cruz arched an eyebrow, watching her go. “Should I be worried?”
Aaliyah laughed, the sound light and unrestrained. “Only if you’re planning to eat it.”
--
The villa’s kitchen was a blend of old-world charm and modern luxury, with its vintage copper pots hanging neatly along the walls and sleek marble countertops gleaming in the morning sunlight. Aaliyah pulled open the cabinets, finding an assortment of ingredients neatly arranged. Whoever Sofia’s contact was, they had clearly gone out of their way to stock the house with everything they might need. Eggs, fresh bread, an array of cheeses, and even a small basket of ripe tomatoes sat waiting for her.
She grabbed a few items and set them on the counter, tying her hair into a loose knot at the back of her head. Cruz lingered in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame. Her dark eyes followed Aaliyah’s every move, her posture relaxed, but her presence charged the room with an undercurrent of intensity that Aaliyah couldn’t ignore.
“Are you just going to stand there and supervise?” Aaliyah teased, cracking an egg into a bowl and glancing at Cruz over her shoulder.
“Someone has to make sure you don’t set the place on fire,” Cruz quipped, though the faint smirk tugging at her lips gave away her amusement.
“Wow. Such faith in my culinary abilities,” Aaliyah replied, her tone dripping with mock offense. She reached for a whisk, her movements deliberate as she started to beat the eggs. “For your information, I’m a decent cook.”
Cruz stepped closer, her boots silent on the polished wood floor. “Decent, huh?”
Aaliyah shot her a playful glare. “You’ll see.”
Cruz’s smirk deepened, but she didn’t say anything more. Instead, she leaned against the counter, watching as Aaliyah moved with practiced ease.
“Can you grab me the olive oil?” Aaliyah asked, gesturing toward the bottle on the far end of the counter.
Cruz obliged, her fingers brushing lightly against Aaliyah’s as she handed it over. The contact was brief, but it sent a warm ripple through Aaliyah’s chest. She glanced up at Cruz, catching the faint flicker of something softer in her expression—something that made her stomach flutter.
“Thanks,” Aaliyah murmured, pouring a small drizzle of oil into the pan she had heating on the stove.
Cruz didn’t move away. Instead, she stayed close, her presence a quiet but steady reassurance. Aaliyah could feel the weight of her gaze, the way Cruz’s dark eyes lingered on her, and it made her heart beat a little faster. She turned her focus back to the food, trying to ignore the way her hands trembled slightly under Cruz’s silent attention.
As the eggs began to sizzle in the pan, Aaliyah couldn’t resist sneaking a glance at Cruz. She was standing so close now, her arms crossed over her chest, her head tilted slightly as she watched Aaliyah cook. There was a softness in her expression that Aaliyah rarely got to see—like the walls Cruz usually kept so firmly in place had lowered, if only for a moment.
“You’re staring,” Aaliyah said, her voice light but teasing.
“Maybe,” Cruz replied, her tone equally casual.
Aaliyah laughed softly, shaking her head as she reached for a spatula to stir the eggs. “Careful, or I might start charging you for the show.”
Cruz’s lips twitched, and for a second, Aaliyah thought she might actually laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And yet, you’re still here,” Aaliyah shot back, her grin widening.
Cruz didn’t respond, but the way her gaze softened made Aaliyah’s chest tighten. She turned back to the stove, focusing on plating the food instead of the warmth spreading through her. A few minutes later, she set two plates on the small dining table in the corner of the kitchen, the morning light spilling over the rustic wood.
“Voilà,” Aaliyah said, gesturing grandly toward the table. “A masterpiece.”
Cruz arched a brow, stepping forward to inspect the plates. “You made scrambled eggs and toast.”
“Gourmet scrambled eggs,” Aaliyah corrected, placing her hands on her hips. “You’re welcome.”
Cruz huffed a quiet laugh, grabbing the chair across from Aaliyah and sitting down. She took a bite, her expression giving nothing away as she chewed thoughtfully.
“Well?” Aaliyah prompted, leaning forward with an expectant look. “What’s the verdict?”
Cruz set her fork down, meeting Aaliyah’s gaze with a serious expression. “Not bad.”
“Not bad?” Aaliyah repeated, feigning outrage. “That’s all you’ve got?”
Cruz’s lips quirked into the faintest of smiles. “It’s good, Aaliyah.”
“Thank you,” Aaliyah said, her tone triumphant as she settled into her chair and picked up her fork.
They ate in comfortable silence for a while, the sound of their utensils clinking softly against the plates filling the space between them. Aaliyah found herself stealing glances at Cruz, marveling at how composed she always seemed. Even now, in the middle of a quiet breakfast, there was a quiet intensity about her that Aaliyah couldn’t quite put into words.
When they finished eating, Aaliyah leaned back in her chair, her gaze drifting to the window where the morning sunlight bathed the courtyard in a golden glow. She let out a contented sigh, her fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on the edge of the table.
“This feels… nice,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Cruz looked at her, something unreadable flickering in her dark eyes. “It does.”
Aaliyah smiled, reaching across the table to place her hand over Cruz’s. The gesture was simple, but it carried a weight of gratitude and affection that she didn’t need to put into words. Cruz’s fingers curled around hers, her grip firm but gentle, and for a moment, the rest of the world faded away.
--
After breakfast, Aaliyah insisted on exploring the rest of the villa. There was something about the place that felt almost magical, like every corner held a new discovery. She couldn’t help but drag Cruz along with her, despite her quiet insistence that they’d already covered the basics the night before.
“Come on,” Aaliyah urged, grabbing Cruz’s hand and tugging her toward the staircase. “You can’t just sit in the kitchen all day and brood. You need to see this place in daylight.”
Cruz let herself be pulled along, her steps deliberate but unhurried as Aaliyah led the way. “I’m not brooding,” she said, her tone dry but not unkind.
“Sure,” Aaliyah quipped, glancing back at her with a grin. “And I’m not dragging you around like a tour guide.”
“You’re definitely dragging me,” Cruz replied, the faintest hint of amusement in her voice.
“Then stop being so drag-able,” Aaliyah teased, turning her attention back to the hallway ahead.
The second floor of the villa was just as stunning as the first, with tall arched windows that let in streams of sunlight, illuminating the intricate plasterwork on the walls and ceilings. The air smelled faintly of jasmine, carried in from the courtyard below, and the soft creak of the wooden floorboards underfoot only added to the charm.
Aaliyah paused at one of the tall windows, gazing out at the lush garden below. “Look at this,” she murmured, her voice filled with wonder. “It’s like something out of a fairytale.”
Cruz stepped up beside her, her gaze following Aaliyah’s to the garden. Her expression was unreadable, but Aaliyah noticed the way her shoulders seemed to relax slightly, the tension she carried with her everywhere easing just a bit.
“It’s nice,” Cruz admitted after a moment, her tone quieter than usual.
“Nice?” Aaliyah turned to face her, feigning offense. “Cruz, it’s stunning. Breathtaking. ‘Nice’ doesn’t even begin to cover it.”
Cruz shrugged, a small smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. “You’re easy to impress.”
Aaliyah rolled her eyes, but the warmth in her chest betrayed her exasperation. She bumped her shoulder lightly against Cruz’s. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
“And you’re persistent,” Cruz countered, her smirk softening into something almost playful.
Aaliyah grinned, stepping closer and leaning slightly against the window frame. “Perfect match, then.”
Cruz didn’t respond immediately, but the way her gaze lingered on Aaliyah spoke volumes. Aaliyah felt her pulse quicken under the intensity of Cruz’s eyes, the air between them charged in a way that made her heart race. But instead of acknowledging it, Cruz tilted her head toward the hallway.
“You were giving me a tour, remember?” she said, her tone even but her eyes still warm.
Aaliyah huffed dramatically but couldn’t hide her smile. “Fine. On to the next stop.”
She led Cruz through the rest of the second floor, stopping occasionally to point out details that caught her eye—a delicate chandelier hanging in the hallway, the ornate carvings on the banister of the staircase. Cruz followed with her usual calm demeanor, but Aaliyah could tell she was taking it all in, her sharp eyes missing nothing.
When they reached one of the guest rooms, Aaliyah stepped inside and twirled around, her arms outstretched. The room was bathed in soft, golden light, with a canopy bed draped in sheer white curtains and a small writing desk tucked against the far wall.
“Can you imagine waking up here every day?” Aaliyah said, her voice filled with wonder. “I’d never leave.”
Cruz leaned casually against the doorframe, her arms crossed over her chest. “If you never left, you’d get bored.”
“Not if I had you around,” Aaliyah said without thinking, the words slipping out before she could stop them.
Cruz’s expression faltered for a brief moment, her dark eyes softening as she regarded Aaliyah. The silence that followed was heavy, but not uncomfortable—more like the kind of silence that came with unspoken understanding.
Aaliyah cleared her throat, suddenly feeling self-conscious under Cruz’s gaze. She turned away, pretending to inspect the room’s decor. “Anyway,” she said, her tone a bit lighter, “this place is way too nice to stay in one room. Let’s see what else it has to offer.”
Cruz followed without a word, but Aaliyah couldn’t shake the feeling that her comment had struck a chord. As they continued their exploration, she found herself stealing glances at Cruz, wondering what was going on behind those dark, unreadable eyes.
When they finally made their way back downstairs, Aaliyah flopped onto the plush couch in the sitting room with a contented sigh. “Okay,” she said, looking up at Cruz. “I think I’ve officially decided—I love it here.”
Cruz raised an eyebrow as she sat down beside her. “Didn’t take long.”
“I know what I like,” Aaliyah replied with a grin. She tilted her head, studying Cruz for a moment. “And I think you like it too, even if you won’t admit it.”
Cruz didn’t respond, but the way her lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smile was enough for Aaliyah. She leaned back against the couch, letting the warmth of the villa settle over her, and felt, for the first time in a long while, like she was exactly where she was meant to be.
--
“Well, as much as I’m enjoying this luxurious bunker of ours, I was thinking…” She trailed off, watching Cruz for a reaction.
Cruz raised an eyebrow, silently prompting her to continue. Aaliyah sat up straighter, setting her mug on the side table. “I think we should explore the neighborhood.”
That got Cruz’s attention. She turned fully toward Aaliyah, her brow furrowing slightly, though not in the tense way Aaliyah might have expected. It was more thoughtful than anything else. “Explore?”
“Yes,” Aaliyah said, leaning back against the couch and folding her arms. “You know, walk around, see what’s nearby. Find a café, maybe a bakery. Get to know the area so we don’t stick out like sore thumbs.”
Cruz tilted her head, considering this. “Makes sense.”
Aaliyah blinked. “Wait, that’s it? No arguments? No ‘it’s too risky, Aaliyah’?”
Cruz smirked. “You’ve got a point. Blending in is important. And knowing the layout of the streets? Even more important.”
Aaliyah narrowed her eyes at her, trying to decipher if this was some kind of trick. “You’re surprisingly agreeable today. What’s the catch?”
“No catch,” Cruz said with a shrug, pushing off the windowsill and walking toward her. “It’s a good idea. I’m not going to argue just for the sake of it.”
Aaliyah’s smile widened as she watched Cruz approach. “Well, I like this version of you. Agreeable Cruz is fun.”
“Don’t get used to it,” Cruz replied, though her smirk softened into something more genuine as she reached the couch. She leaned down slightly, resting a hand on the back of the couch, her face close to Aaliyah’s. “Besides, I like the idea of seeing you in your element—charming strangers, stealing the spotlight.”
Aaliyah’s cheeks warmed, but she grinned up at Cruz, her confidence unwavering. “What can I say? I like making an impression.”
“You do that very well,” Cruz murmured, her voice dipping lower.
Aaliyah’s stomach flipped at the compliment, but she refused to let Cruz have the last word. “Then let’s get ready. I need to find the perfect outfit to wow Milan.”
Cruz straightened, her hand lingering on the back of the couch for a moment before she nodded. “All right. Let’s see what Milan has to offer.”
As Aaliyah headed upstairs to grab her shoes, she glanced over her shoulder at Cruz, feeling a surge of affection and excitement. This wasn’t just about blending in or scoping out the area. It was about sharing something normal, something real, with the person who had become her anchor in the storm.
--
The late afternoon sunlight bathed the streets of the Wagner neighborhood in a golden glow, warming the cobblestones and casting long shadows from the historic buildings that lined the narrow roads. Aaliyah walked beside Cruz, her arm linked through Cruz’s, her steps light with a sense of anticipation. She felt a flicker of hope in her chest—this could be the start of something more normal, more real.
Milan felt alive in a way that Salzburg hadn’t. The energy was vibrant, pulsing through the streets like a quiet heartbeat. Small groups of locals chatted animatedly outside cafés, their hands gesturing in that distinctly Italian way. Vespa scooters zipped by, weaving between pedestrians and parked cars. Every corner seemed to hold a new story—a boutique filled with intricate leather goods, a florist spilling over with brightly colored blooms, a gelato stand that made Aaliyah’s mouth water just walking by.
“This is… amazing,” Aaliyah said, her voice tinged with wonder as she glanced around. She let her gaze linger on the intricate wrought-iron balconies above, the window boxes overflowing with flowers, the pastel-colored facades that seemed to glow in the fading sunlight. “I feel like I’ve stepped into a movie.”
Cruz made a soft noise of agreement, her gaze scanning their surroundings with quiet vigilance. She kept a firm but relaxed hold on Aaliyah’s arm, her movements subtle but always intentional. Aaliyah didn’t miss the way Cruz would guide her just slightly to the side if a scooter passed too close, or how she instinctively shifted her body to create a barrier between Aaliyah and the busier parts of the street.
“You’ve been here before, haven’t you?” Aaliyah asked, tilting her head to look up at Cruz.
Cruz nodded, her dark eyes flicking toward Aaliyah briefly before returning to their surroundings. “A few times. Work-related.”
“Of course,” Aaliyah teased, her lips curving into a playful smile. “I should’ve guessed. Always business, never pleasure.”
Cruz’s lips twitched, but she didn’t take the bait. “Business keeps you alive,” she said simply, though her tone wasn’t as sharp as it might have been in the past.
“Well,” Aaliyah said, letting her head rest lightly against Cruz’s shoulder as they walked, “maybe it’s time you learned to enjoy the pleasure part too.”
Cruz huffed a quiet laugh, but she didn’t pull away, and that small concession made Aaliyah’s heart flutter.
They turned a corner onto a quieter street, where quaint boutiques and artisanal shops lined the sidewalks. Aaliyah couldn’t resist stopping in front of a small bakery with a display window filled with golden croissants, fruit tarts, and neatly stacked macarons in every color of the rainbow.
“Look at that,” she said, tugging Cruz closer to the window. “Doesn’t it make you want to eat everything in sight?”
Cruz raised an eyebrow. “I’d rather not have a sugar crash while we’re walking around.”
Aaliyah rolled her eyes, her smile playful. “You’re no fun.” She tapped the glass lightly, pointing to a perfectly glazed tart with a crown of fresh berries on top. “I’m definitely coming back here. That one has my name all over it.”
Cruz glanced at the tart, her expression softening slightly. “Noted.”
They continued down the street, weaving through clusters of pedestrians. Aaliyah found herself slowing down, taking everything in—the laughter spilling out of a nearby café, the scent of espresso mingling with fresh bread, the sound of a violinist playing a gentle tune on the corner. It all felt so… alive. So real.
“This place,” Aaliyah said softly, her voice barely above a whisper, “it feels like a fresh start.”
Cruz looked at her then, her gaze lingering a moment longer than usual. “It’s a good city. Easy to blend in.”
Aaliyah gave her a sidelong glance, a smile tugging at her lips. “You keep saying that, like blending in is the only thing that matters.”
“It is,” Cruz said, though her voice softened slightly. “At least for now.”
Aaliyah slowed her steps, gently pulling Cruz to a stop. She turned to face her, her hand sliding down to lace her fingers with Cruz’s. “But it doesn’t have to be everything, does it? Just for a little while, can’t we just… be here? Be normal?”
Cruz hesitated, her dark eyes searching Aaliyah’s face. There was a flicker of something in her expression—something vulnerable, unsure—but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she nodded, her grip on Aaliyah’s hand tightening slightly. “We can try.”
Aaliyah smiled, her heart swelling at the quiet promise in those words. “Good. Because I think I’m starting to like it here.”
They resumed their walk, and Aaliyah leaned into Cruz’s side, her head lightly brushing against her shoulder. Cruz didn’t seem to mind. In fact, Aaliyah swore she felt Cruz’s fingers squeeze hers again, as if to silently remind her: I’m here. You’re safe.
As they reached a small piazza, the setting sun cast a warm, golden light over the cobblestones. Children chased each other around a fountain at the center, their laughter echoing in the open space. Aaliyah slowed her pace, letting the moment wash over her.
“This,” she said, her voice soft with awe, “this is what I’ve always wanted. Just… a moment like this.”
Cruz
Cruz stood by the window, coffee in hand, her dark eyes scanning the courtyard below. The ornate fountain gurgled quietly, its sound mingling with the occasional chirp of birds and the faint hum of Milan waking up beyond the villa walls. It was picturesque, almost disarming in its serenity. But Cruz couldn’t let herself relax—not completely.
She took a slow sip of her coffee, her mind cycling through the details of the day ahead. New city, new variables. It had been years since she’d been to Milan, and while her contacts here were reliable, she knew better than to rely on complacency. Complacency got people killed. Every street, every unfamiliar face, every subtle sound could carry a risk, and it was her job to anticipate the unseen.
Her eyes drifted to the reflection in the glass. The room behind her was bathed in soft light, and she caught the faint outline of Aaliyah curled in the bed, still wrapped in the heavy sheets. The sight made something tighten in her chest. Cruz had trained herself to keep attachments at arm’s length, to bury emotions where they couldn’t interfere. But with Aaliyah, those walls were starting to feel like thin paper, crumbling under the weight of something she didn’t quite know how to name.
Cruz’s fingers tightened around the mug as she glanced back out the window, willing herself to focus. Yet, no matter how hard she tried, her thoughts circled back to the night before—the way Aaliyah had held her after she’d shared pieces of her past she’d vowed never to revisit. Cruz had felt vulnerable, exposed, but Aaliyah hadn’t pulled away. She’d stayed. She always stayed.
The sound of soft footsteps broke through her thoughts. Cruz tensed out of instinct but immediately softened when she caught sight of Aaliyah moving toward her. Her hair was slightly tousled, her movements still languid with sleep, but there was an ease about her that Cruz envied. The kind of ease that came with trust.
Before Cruz could react, Aaliyah’s arms slipped around her shoulders from behind, and she leaned her chin lightly against Cruz’s head. The gesture caught her off guard—it always did. Cruz had spent so long keeping people at a distance that simple moments like this felt almost foreign. And yet, with Aaliyah, they were becoming something she craved.
For a brief moment, her muscles tensed, her body instinctively resisting the closeness. But then Aaliyah’s warmth seeped into her, her scent—a faint mix of jasmine and something uniquely her—wrapping around Cruz like a balm. She exhaled slowly, her free hand lifting to rest lightly over Aaliyah’s forearm.
“Do you ever stop thinking?” Aaliyah’s voice was soft, teasing, and laced with affection.
Cruz let her thumb brush over the edge of Aaliyah’s arm—a subtle, grounding gesture. “Not really,” she admitted, her tone low and even. “Someone has to stay ahead.”
Aaliyah chuckled, and the sound eased a fraction of the tension in Cruz’s shoulders. She felt Aaliyah press a gentle kiss to the top of her head, the tenderness in the gesture making something inside her chest ache.
“I think you’ve earned at least five minutes off,” Aaliyah murmured.
Cruz turned her head slightly, her eyes meeting Aaliyah’s. She could see the warmth in her gaze, the quiet determination that always seemed to push Aaliyah past every barrier Cruz tried to put up. For a fleeting moment, Cruz considered arguing—telling her that there was no time to let her guard down, not when they were still being hunted. But the look in Aaliyah’s eyes stopped her. She didn’t want to shatter this moment, this fragile bubble of peace that had formed around them.
Instead, she allowed the smallest hint of a smile to cross her lips. “The view’s better here,” she said quietly, her voice carrying a weight of meaning she couldn’t bring herself to explain.
Aaliyah flushed, and Cruz couldn’t help but feel a flicker of satisfaction. It wasn’t often she let herself be this open, but seeing the effect her words had on Aaliyah made it feel worth it. When Aaliyah leaned down to kiss her temple, Cruz closed her eyes briefly, savoring the soft, fleeting contact.
“You’re impossible,” Aaliyah said with a grin, stepping back.
“And you’re relentless,” Cruz replied, though there was no bite to her words. If anything, there was a quiet fondness there that surprised even her.
Aaliyah brushed her fingers lightly along Cruz’s arm as she moved toward the kitchen. The touch lingered, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. “Stay there. I’m making breakfast.”
Cruz arched a brow, her lips twitching into the faintest smirk. “Should I be worried?”
Aaliyah’s laughter filled the room, light and unrestrained, and Cruz felt her chest tighten in response. It wasn’t the kind of laugh meant to break tension or fill silence. It was real, genuine, and for a moment, it made her forget the weight of the day ahead.
“Only if you’re planning to eat it,” Aaliyah quipped, disappearing into the kitchen.
Cruz turned back to the window, the faint smile lingering on her lips. For all her planning, for all her efforts to stay ahead, Aaliyah had a way of making her feel like, just maybe, it was okay to let her guard down—even if only for a moment.
--
The villa’s kitchen was warm and inviting, the morning light reflecting off the sleek marble countertops and casting a glow over the copper pots that hung neatly along the walls. Cruz stood in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame, her arms crossed over her chest. She watched as Aaliyah moved around the kitchen with an ease that felt both natural and practiced, her delicate fingers brushing across the ingredients she pulled from the cabinets.
The space was almost too perfect, like something from a magazine, and it felt surreal to be standing there after everything they’d been through. But what struck Cruz more than the picturesque setting was Aaliyah herself. She was radiant in the soft light, her hair loosely tied back, her features relaxed in a way Cruz didn’t see often enough. For a moment, Cruz allowed herself to simply observe, letting the sight of Aaliyah tug at the edges of her carefully guarded heart.
“Are you just going to stand there and supervise?” Aaliyah’s teasing voice broke through Cruz’s thoughts, drawing her attention to the way Aaliyah turned to glance at her over her shoulder.
Cruz quirked a brow, her lips twitching into the faintest smirk. “Someone has to make sure you don’t set the place on fire.”
Aaliyah rolled her eyes, her mock offense both exaggerated and endearing. “Wow. Such faith in my culinary abilities.”
Cruz didn’t reply immediately, instead pushing off the doorframe and stepping farther into the kitchen. Her boots made no sound against the polished wood floor, and she moved closer, her gaze following the deliberate movements of Aaliyah’s hands as she cracked an egg into a bowl and reached for a whisk. Cruz didn’t miss the way Aaliyah’s posture straightened slightly under her watchful gaze, and a small part of her couldn’t help but enjoy the effect she had on her.
“Decent, huh?” Cruz said, her tone low, with just enough skepticism to keep the conversation playful.
Aaliyah’s head snapped toward her, her eyes narrowing as she shot Cruz a mock glare. “You’ll see.”
The corner of Cruz’s mouth lifted in a rare, genuine smile as she leaned against the counter, her arms loosely crossed once more. She watched as Aaliyah whisked the eggs, her movements confident but unhurried, and Cruz found herself struck again by how different things felt here—how different she felt around Aaliyah. It wasn’t the absence of danger, because that shadow always lingered at the edges of her awareness. It was the way Aaliyah made her feel as though, for just a moment, they could have something normal. Something real.
“Can you grab me the olive oil?” Aaliyah asked, her voice breaking through Cruz’s thoughts again.
Cruz nodded, reaching for the bottle at the far end of the counter. As she handed it to Aaliyah, their fingers brushed, a fleeting contact that sent an unexpected warmth rushing through Cruz. She stilled for a fraction of a second, her eyes flicking to Aaliyah’s face. The faint smile on Aaliyah’s lips, the way her gaze lingered on Cruz’s, made the air between them feel heavier—charged with something unspoken but undeniable.
“Thanks,” Aaliyah murmured, her voice softer now.
Cruz nodded, stepping back slightly but not far enough to create any real distance. She couldn’t bring herself to leave the space, to break the quiet rhythm of the moment. Instead, she stayed close, watching as Aaliyah moved between the stove and the counter with a confidence that was both endearing and infuriating. Cruz wasn’t used to standing still, to simply watching—but with Aaliyah, it felt natural.
“You’re staring,” Aaliyah said, glancing over her shoulder with a teasing grin.
“Maybe,” Cruz replied, her tone deliberately casual.
Aaliyah laughed, the sound light and infectious, and Cruz felt her chest tighten. She wasn’t sure how Aaliyah managed to do it—to cut through the layers of armor she’d built around herself without even trying—but she didn’t mind as much as she thought she would.
“Careful, or I might start charging you for the show,” Aaliyah quipped, her grin widening.
Cruz’s lips twitched again, and for a brief moment, she almost laughed. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And yet, you’re still here,” Aaliyah shot back, her tone triumphant.
Cruz didn’t respond, but her gaze softened as she watched Aaliyah turn back to the stove. There was something mesmerizing about her—about the way she could fill a room with warmth and light without even realizing it. Cruz hadn’t planned for this—for Aaliyah to become more than a responsibility, more than someone she needed to protect. And yet, here she was, unable to imagine a world where Aaliyah wasn’t a part of it.
When Aaliyah finally set the plates on the table, Cruz moved to sit across from her, her expression carefully neutral as she inspected the food. “You made scrambled eggs and toast,” she said, arching a brow.
“Gourmet scrambled eggs,” Aaliyah corrected, her hands on her hips.
Cruz huffed a quiet laugh, shaking her head as she picked up her fork. She took a bite, her expression giving nothing away, though the food was surprisingly good. “Not bad,” she said after a moment, her tone deliberately understated.
Aaliyah’s mouth fell open in mock outrage. “Not bad? That’s all you’ve got?”
“It’s good, Aaliyah,” Cruz said, her lips quirking into the faintest smile.
Aaliyah’s grin returned, triumphant as she settled into her chair. Cruz watched her as they ate in companionable silence, the sound of utensils clinking against plates filling the space. It was such a simple thing—a quiet breakfast in a beautiful villa—but it felt monumental to Cruz. She wasn’t used to this kind of peace, this kind of intimacy. And for the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to want it.
When they finished eating, Aaliyah leaned back in her chair, her gaze drifting to the window. The morning light bathed her in a soft glow, and Cruz found herself struck again by how beautiful she was—not just in appearance, but in the way she carried herself, the way she brought light into even the heaviest moments.
“This feels… nice,” Aaliyah said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Cruz nodded, her dark eyes meeting Aaliyah’s. “It does.”
When Aaliyah reached across the table to place her hand over Cruz’s, Cruz hesitated for just a moment before curling her fingers around hers. The gesture was simple, but it carried a weight of trust and affection that Cruz didn’t take lightly. As Aaliyah’s warmth seeped into her, Cruz felt something shift.
--
The morning sunlight filtered through the tall arched windows of the villa’s second floor, illuminating the intricate plasterwork and casting a warm glow across the wooden floors. Cruz trailed behind Aaliyah, who seemed to be bursting with excitement, her energy infectious even if Cruz wouldn’t admit it. She wasn’t one to get caught up in aesthetics or charm—what mattered to her was functionality, security, and control. But as Aaliyah tugged her forward, pointing out every detail with wide-eyed wonder, Cruz found herself softening in ways she didn’t entirely understand.
“This place is incredible,” Aaliyah said, her voice tinged with awe as she paused at one of the tall windows. Her eyes were fixed on the courtyard below, where the garden was alive with bursts of color and the faint scent of jasmine carried on the breeze.
Cruz stepped up beside her, her gaze shifting to the garden. It was picturesque, she supposed, the kind of place most people would marvel at. But for her, it was another space to assess—a place with potential vulnerabilities and possible escape routes. Her mind instinctively cataloged the layout, the sightlines, the places where someone could hide. It was habit, one she couldn’t shake, even in a place as idyllic as this.
“It’s nice,” she said after a moment, her voice quieter than usual.
Aaliyah turned to face her, an incredulous look on her face. “Nice? Cruz, it’s stunning. Breathtaking. ‘Nice’ doesn’t even begin to cover it.”
Cruz glanced at her, unable to suppress the faint smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. “You’re easy to impress.”
Aaliyah rolled her eyes but bumped her shoulder against Cruz’s in a gesture that felt as natural as breathing. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
“And you’re persistent,” Cruz replied, the playful edge in her voice surprising even herself.
“Perfect match, then,” Aaliyah quipped, leaning slightly against the window frame, her grin wide and teasing.
Cruz let the comment hang in the air, her gaze lingering on Aaliyah’s face longer than she intended. The sunlight caught the soft waves of her hair, highlighting the subtle curve of her cheekbone, and for a fleeting moment, Cruz felt the weight of the world slip away. It was unsettling, this pull she felt toward Aaliyah—a mixture of protectiveness and something deeper, something she wasn’t ready to name.
“You were giving me a tour, remember?” she said, breaking the moment but keeping her tone even.
Aaliyah huffed dramatically, tossing her hair over her shoulder with exaggerated flair. “Fine. On to the next stop.”
As Aaliyah led her through the rest of the second floor, Cruz followed with her usual quiet presence, her sharp eyes taking in every detail of the villa. She didn’t need to look to know Aaliyah was stealing glances at her, her curiosity palpable. Cruz pretended not to notice, keeping her focus on the task at hand. But in truth, Aaliyah’s attention made her chest tighten in a way she couldn’t ignore. It wasn’t unwelcome—it was just… unfamiliar.
When they reached one of the guest rooms, Aaliyah stepped inside and spun around, her arms outstretched like she was trying to embrace the entire space. Cruz leaned against the doorframe, her arms crossed over her chest, watching as Aaliyah marveled at the canopy bed and the delicate curtains that framed the windows.
“Can you imagine waking up here every day?” Aaliyah said, her voice filled with wonder. “I’d never leave.”
Cruz’s lips twitched into a faint smile. “If you never left, you’d get bored.”
“Not if I had you around,” Aaliyah said without hesitation, the words slipping out so naturally that they caught Cruz off guard.
Her expression faltered, the walls she always kept firmly in place cracking just slightly. The weight of Aaliyah’s words settled over her like a warm blanket, both comforting and disarming. She wasn’t sure how to respond—wasn’t even sure she could respond—so she stayed silent, letting the moment linger as she studied Aaliyah’s profile.
When Aaliyah cleared her throat and turned away, pretending to examine the room’s decor, Cruz straightened, pushing off the doorframe. She followed as Aaliyah continued her exploration, her steps measured and deliberate. But even as she moved through the space, her thoughts stayed on that fleeting comment—the quiet, unspoken promise it seemed to carry.
By the time they made their way back downstairs, Cruz was more than ready to retreat into her thoughts, to parse through the emotions Aaliyah had unknowingly stirred. But Aaliyah, as always, had other plans. She flopped onto the plush couch in the sitting room with a contented sigh, her smile bright and unguarded as she looked up at Cruz.
“Okay,” Aaliyah declared, her voice brimming with conviction. “I think I’ve officially decided—I love it here.”
Cruz raised an eyebrow as she sank into the chair across from her, her movements fluid but deliberate. “Didn’t take long.”
“I know what I like,” Aaliyah replied with a grin, tilting her head to study Cruz. “And I think you like it too, even if you won’t admit it.”
Cruz didn’t respond, but the faint twitch of her lips betrayed her. She wasn’t one for grand declarations, but Aaliyah didn’t seem to need them. She could read between the lines, find meaning in the smallest gestures, and Cruz was grateful for that. It made it easier to let herself feel things she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in years—things that both terrified and exhilarated her.
As Aaliyah leaned back against the couch, her expression soft and content, Cruz let herself relax—just for a moment. In the quiet warmth of the villa, with Aaliyah’s laughter still echoing in her mind, Cruz felt a flicker of something she hadn’t felt in a long time. Hope.
--
Aaliyah’s voice broke through her mental haze. “Well, as much as I’m enjoying this luxurious bunker of ours, I was thinking…”
Cruz glanced over at her, raising an eyebrow. The way Aaliyah trailed off, watching her for a reaction, made her smirk internally. Aaliyah always had a way of trying to gauge her mood before launching into whatever idea she had. Cruz admired that about her—the way she balanced boldness with caution. She stayed silent, waiting for Aaliyah to continue.
“I think we should explore the neighborhood,” Aaliyah said, sitting up straighter and setting her mug on the table. Her tone was casual, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes, as if she wasn’t sure how Cruz would respond.
Cruz turned fully toward her, studying her expression. The idea wasn’t unreasonable—if anything, it made practical sense. Knowing the area, understanding its layout, and being able to blend in were all crucial. But there was something else in Aaliyah’s voice, something beneath the practicality. Cruz could see it in the way she leaned forward slightly, her gaze steady but hopeful. She wasn’t just asking to explore the neighborhood. She was asking for something normal, something that felt like a life outside the constant running.
“Explore?” Cruz repeated, keeping her tone even.
“Yes,” Aaliyah said, leaning back against the couch and folding her arms. “You know, walk around, see what’s nearby. Find a café, maybe a bakery. Get to know the area so we don’t stick out like sore thumbs.”
Cruz tilted her head, considering her words. It was a good idea, and she couldn’t deny that a walk through the neighborhood might help ease some of Aaliyah’s restlessness. For someone who had been thrown into a life of hiding, Aaliyah had adapted remarkably well. Still, Cruz knew how much she craved moments of normalcy, and this was a chance to give her that without compromising their safety.
“Makes sense,” Cruz said simply.
She caught the flicker of surprise in Aaliyah’s expression as she blinked at her. “Wait, that’s it? No arguments? No ‘it’s too risky, Aaliyah’?”
Cruz smirked, setting her mug down on the windowsill. “You’ve got a point. Blending in is important. And knowing the layout of the streets? Even more important.”
Aaliyah narrowed her eyes, her expression skeptical but amused. Cruz could see the wheels turning in her mind, trying to figure out if there was a catch. “You’re surprisingly agreeable today. What’s the catch?”
“No catch,” Cruz replied with a shrug, pushing off the windowsill and crossing the room. She kept her steps deliberate, closing the distance between them slowly, knowing exactly how her proximity affected Aaliyah. “It’s a good idea. I’m not going to argue just for the sake of it.”
The way Aaliyah’s smile widened as Cruz approached sent a warmth through her chest that she didn’t know what to do with. “Well, I like this version of you. Agreeable Cruz is fun,” Aaliyah teased, her tone light but laced with affection.
“Don’t get used to it,” Cruz shot back, though her smirk softened as she reached the couch. She leaned down slightly, resting one hand on the back of the couch for balance, her face close to Aaliyah’s. It was a calculated move, but there was a part of her that just wanted to be closer, to see the way Aaliyah’s eyes lit up when she smiled. “Besides, I like the idea of seeing you in your element—charming strangers, stealing the spotlight.”
Aaliyah’s cheeks flushed slightly, but her grin remained steady. Her confidence was one of the things Cruz admired most about her—it was unshakable, even in the face of danger or uncertainty. “What can I say? I like making an impression.”
Cruz let her gaze linger on Aaliyah for a moment longer than necessary, the softness of her features pulling at something deep within her. She hadn’t expected to find someone like Aaliyah in the midst of everything—a light in the chaos, a tether that kept her grounded. “You do that very well,” Cruz murmured, her voice dipping lower.
The subtle shift in Aaliyah’s expression—a slight hitch in her breath, the way her eyes softened—didn’t escape Cruz’s notice. It was a small victory, one that sent a quiet thrill through her. She could have stayed like that, leaning close to Aaliyah, forever, but she forced herself to pull back, to maintain some semblance of control.
“Then let’s get ready,” Aaliyah said, standing with an energy that Cruz envied. “I need to find the perfect outfit to wow Milan.”
Cruz straightened, her hand lingering on the back of the couch for a moment before she nodded. “All right. Let’s see what Milan has to offer.”
As Aaliyah headed toward the stairs, Cruz couldn’t help but watch her go, the lightness in her steps a stark contrast to the heaviness Cruz so often carried. Aaliyah glanced back over her shoulder, her smile bright and unguarded, and Cruz felt that same warmth bloom in her chest again.
It wasn’t just about blending in or scoping out the area. For Cruz, this was a chance to give Aaliyah something she deserved—a piece of normalcy, a moment of happiness. And as much as she hated to admit it, Cruz found herself looking forward to it too.
--
Cruz walked beside Aaliyah, her arm linked loosely through hers, and felt the faint tug of tension begin to unwind in her chest. The city felt alive in a way that Salzburg hadn’t, the vibrant energy of the streets humming with an undercurrent of activity that Cruz couldn’t ignore. But as much as her instincts screamed at her to stay sharp, to take in every detail with a calculated edge, there was a part of her that softened at Aaliyah’s presence.
Aaliyah was taking it all in, her eyes alight with wonder as they passed quaint cafés and lively shops. She kept turning her head, her gaze lingering on wrought-iron balconies and brightly colored window boxes. Her awe was unguarded, uninhibited, and Cruz found herself watching her more than the streets.
“This is… amazing,” Aaliyah murmured, her voice tinged with something Cruz could only describe as hope. Cruz followed her gaze to the pastel facades glowing in the afternoon light, the scene picturesque and calm.
“It’s nice,” Cruz said softly, more to herself than Aaliyah. She rarely let herself linger on things like beauty or peace, but the setting was undeniably striking. And seeing it through Aaliyah’s eyes made it… more.
The scent of espresso and fresh bread drifted past them as they walked, mingling with the faint hum of conversation and the occasional Vespa weaving through the street. Cruz stayed attuned to everything—scanning for exits, watching for anything out of place—but she couldn’t help the pull of Aaliyah’s excitement. Her steps felt lighter, and though her mind stayed sharp, the tension she carried loosened ever so slightly.
“You’ve been here before, haven’t you?” Aaliyah asked, tilting her head to look up at Cruz, her arm still looped through hers.
Cruz nodded, her gaze flicking briefly to Aaliyah before returning to the street. “A few times. Work-related.”
Of course, Aaliyah teased her, her playful smile tugging at Cruz’s guarded exterior. “Always business, never pleasure.”
Her lips twitched into the faintest smirk, though she didn’t rise to the bait. “Business keeps you alive,” she said, her tone firm but lighter than usual. The truth of that statement sat heavily in her chest, but she wasn’t about to weigh Aaliyah down with it.
“Well,” Aaliyah said, resting her head lightly on Cruz’s shoulder as they walked, “maybe it’s time you learned to enjoy the pleasure part too.”
The quiet affection in her voice caught Cruz off guard, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she let Aaliyah lean into her, savoring the rare softness of the moment. A small huff of laughter escaped her, and she let it settle in the space between them, unspoken but understood.
They rounded a corner onto a quieter street, and Cruz caught sight of a restaurant nestled near the edge of the piazza. Its awning stretched over several outdoor tables, their white linens glowing faintly in the fading sunlight. The soft hum of conversation carried through the air, mingling with the clinking of glasses and the aroma of freshly baked bread. Cruz’s steps slowed almost imperceptibly as her gaze lingered on the place.
It would be a good spot—somewhere low-profile, where they could blend in while still allowing Aaliyah to experience something normal. The idea of taking Aaliyah there for a proper dinner—a real date, not another fleeting moment stolen between moves—settled in her mind before she could stop it. She could picture it so clearly: Aaliyah sitting across from her, the golden light catching in her hair, her smile brighter than anything else in the room. The thought made something shift in Cruz’s chest, a quiet yearning she wasn’t sure how to name.
“Look at that,” Aaliyah said, pulling her attention back as she tugged Cruz toward a bakery window. “Doesn’t it make you want to eat everything in sight?”
Cruz followed her to the display, her gaze sweeping over the rows of colorful macarons, golden croissants, and intricately glazed tarts. She raised an eyebrow, her voice calm but teasing. “I’d rather not have a sugar crash while we’re walking around.”
Aaliyah rolled her eyes, her laughter bright and free. “You’re no fun.”
The playful banter felt easy, natural, and Cruz let herself enjoy it, even as she kept a subtle eye on their surroundings. The way Aaliyah tapped on the glass, pointing out her favorite tart, brought a softness to Cruz’s features she didn’t even realize was there. She noted the bakery’s location, silently filing it away for later. It was the kind of place Aaliyah would love to return to, and Cruz wanted to be the one to bring her back.
As they continued down the street, weaving through the lively crowd, Cruz stayed close, her hand brushing lightly against Aaliyah’s arm whenever the foot traffic grew heavier. Her presence was instinctive—protective—but there was something more to it now. She liked the way Aaliyah fit into her space, the way she leaned into her without hesitation.
“This place,” Aaliyah said softly, her voice filled with awe, “it feels like a fresh start.”
Cruz turned her head toward her, her dark eyes lingering on Aaliyah’s expression. There was something hopeful in her tone, something vulnerable that tugged at Cruz in ways she wasn’t ready to admit. “It’s a good city,” she said simply, keeping her tone even. “Easy to blend in.”
Aaliyah gave her a sidelong glance, her smile teasing but warm. “You keep saying that, like blending in is the only thing that matters.”
“It is,” Cruz said, though her voice softened slightly, betraying the faintest crack in her armor. “At least for now.”
When Aaliyah stopped walking, gently pulling Cruz to a halt, Cruz felt her pulse quicken—just slightly. She turned to face her, the small space between them charged with unspoken emotion. Aaliyah’s fingers slid down to lace with hers, and Cruz felt the warmth of her grip, steady and grounding.
“But it doesn’t have to be everything, does it?” Aaliyah asked, her voice quiet but insistent. “Just for a little while, can’t we just… be here? Be normal?”
Cruz hesitated, her mind racing through all the reasons why normal wasn’t an option for them—not now, maybe not ever. But the look in Aaliyah’s eyes, so open and full of hope, made the words catch in her throat. She couldn’t take this from her. Not today.
“We can try,” she said finally, her voice quieter than she intended. The words felt like a promise, one she wasn’t sure she could keep, but Aaliyah’s smile made it worth the risk.
As they resumed their walk, Aaliyah leaned into her side, her head brushing lightly against her shoulder. Cruz let out a slow breath, her fingers tightening around Aaliyah’s just slightly, as if to anchor herself to the moment.
The sun dipped lower as they reached a small piazza, its golden light casting everything in a soft glow. Cruz glanced at the fountain in the center, the children running circles around it, their laughter echoing in the open space. It was a scene out of a life she hadn’t allowed herself to imagine for years.
“This,” Aaliyah said, her voice tinged with quiet awe, “this is what I’ve always wanted. Just… a moment like this.”
Cruz looked at her, her heart twisting at the simplicity of the statement. She wanted to give Aaliyah more of this—more peace, more light, more moments like the one unfolding now. But deep down, she wondered if she’d ever be enough to make it last.