Under the Shadows

40. Stubborn Promises

By the time the food was ready, Elyne felt a rare lightness in her chest, a fleeting sense of peace she hadn't realized she needed. She carried a tray of neatly arranged plates to the table, her mind already on how Dante would react when he woke. Maybe it was foolish, but she wanted to see him eat, to watch him regain his strength—one small step toward a future that, for the first time in days, didn't feel so utterly bleak.

Dr. Greaves wiped his hands on a dish towel, his movements unhurried. "Bon appétit," he said warmly, nodding toward the tray in Elyne's hands. "I'll eat here in the kitchen, but you're welcome to take that to Dante."

Elyne hesitated for a moment, glancing from the tray to the doctor. "You sure you don't want to join us?" she asked, her voice quiet but sincere.

He tilted his head, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Oh, no," he said, his tone light but teasing. "I think I'll give you two some space. You probably have plenty to talk about." His eyes glimmered with a knowing warmth, and Elyne felt her cheeks flush faintly at the implication.

"Fair enough," she replied, her lips curving into a small, appreciative smile. "Thanks, Doc."

With that, she picked up the tray—a simple spread of scrambled eggs, fruit, and a cup of tea—and made her way back to Dante's room. The weight of the tray grounded her, but her thoughts swirled, tangled with anticipation and a faint undercurrent of nervousness. Greaves wasn't wrong. There was so much left unspoken between them, and she wasn't sure where to begin.

The door creaked softly as she pushed it open, the faint morning light spilling into the dim room. Dante was still lying in bed, his head turned slightly toward the window, his breathing steady. His curls were tousled against the pillow, and his face, now with more color, looked peaceful in a way that stirred something deep in her chest.

Elyne set the tray on the small table by the bed and pulled up a chair. For a moment, she simply watched him, her fingers lightly brushing the edge of the tray. This man, whose name had once been synonymous with chaos and rebellion, now lay before her, stripped of all pretense. Just Dante. Just a man, flawed and vulnerable, who had somehow become central to her life in ways she hadn't anticipated.

"Hey," she murmured softly, her voice barely above a whisper as she leaned in slightly. "Breakfast is here if you're hungry."

Dante stirred, his lashes fluttering briefly before his eyes opened, still heavy with sleep. His gaze found hers, a flicker of confusion giving way to something softer, warmer. "You're still here," he said, his voice rough but laced with a quiet relief that made her heart ache.

"Of course I am," she replied, her tone firm but gentle. "I told you, I'm not going anywhere."

His lips quirked into the faintest smile, his hand shifting slightly on the blanket as though reaching for hers. Elyne caught the movement and, without hesitation, took his hand, her fingers wrapping around his.

"I thought you might need some fuel," she said, gesturing toward the tray. "Figured it's the least I could do after... everything."

Dante's smile grew a fraction, his green eyes meeting hers with a flicker of something unspoken. "Thanks," he said quietly, his thumb brushing lightly against her fingers.

He lifted a forkful of eggs to his mouth, chewing slowly before his face twisted into an exaggerated grimace. Elyne's brows knitted together in concern, her voice quick and worried. "What? What's wrong?"

He swallowed dramatically, setting the fork down with deliberate slowness before meeting her gaze, his green eyes glinting with mischief. "Just wondering," he began, his tone light but teasing, "if this is your way of finishing the job. You know, after the bullet didn't do it."

Elyne's stomach twisted, her expression falling. The faint smile she'd been wearing vanished as the words hit her harder than they should have. She opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out, the weight of unspoken guilt settling heavily on her chest.

The shift in her demeanor must have registered, because Dante's teasing smirk melted away almost instantly. "Hey," he said quickly, his voice softening. "I'm kidding. Just kidding, I swear." His hand reached out, his thumb brushing gently against her cheek. "I'm sorry. It's good, really. Thank you."

A flicker of warmth spread through her at his touch, though she fought to keep her expression neutral. "Maybe next time, I'll actually consider poison. You know, just for variety." she shot back, her tone feigning a pout as she pulled her chair back a little.

Dante laughed, the sound low and genuine, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I'd probably deserve it," he admitted, picking up the fork again. "But you'd miss me too much."

She rolled her eyes, but her heart wasn't in it, the corners of her mouth twitching upward despite herself.

He laughed again, picking up the fork and resuming his meal, his expression more at ease now.
Elyne leaned back slightly, her arms crossed as she watched him, her chest tightening at the calmness with which he spoke. "So what's the plan?" she asked, her voice steady, though her fingers fidgeted slightly in her lap. "What happens next?"

Dante set down the fork, his green eyes softening as he looked at her. "As soon as I'm back on my feet, I'm leaving," he said matter-of-factly. "I'll head to another safe house."

The words hit her like a sudden chill, and she blinked, stunned. "You already have another safe house?" she asked, her voice incredulous.

Dante chuckled, the sound light but tinged with weariness. "Of course. It's not as secure as the last one, but it'll do."

Her mind raced, her pulse quickening. "And what about me?" she demanded, her tone sharper now. "What am I supposed to do?"

He tilted his head, as though the answer was obvious. "You," he said slowly, "are going to go back to your life."

Elyne stared at him, her chest tightening further. "You can't be serious," she said, her voice dropping into a near whisper. "After everything, you expect me to just... go back?"

His gaze softened, his smirk fading into something more serious. "Elyne," he said quietly, "you've done more than enough. You don't have to keep putting yourself in danger. You deserve to go back, to have a life beyond all this."

She shook her head, her fists clenching at her sides. "I told you already," she said firmly. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying with you."

Dante sighed, his lips curving into a faint, almost resigned smile. "I appreciate it," he said, his voice low, his fingers brushing lightly against hers. "But you don't need to fall with me. You've got too much to lose."

Elyne's jaw tightened, her heart racing as she forced her voice to remain steady. "This isn't about sacrifice," she said, the lie slipping easily from her lips. "It's about my career. How am I supposed to explain getting out of this alive if I'm not still your 'hostage'? Do you think they'll just believe I slipped away?"

Dante chuckled softly, shaking his head. "You're stubborn, you know that?" he said, his green eyes gleaming with amusement. "Nice try, Detective. We'll talk about it later."

Elyne's stomach twisted, a mixture of frustration and relief. She didn't want to argue with him now, not when he was still so weak. But the thought of letting him walk away, of losing him to the shadows again, felt unbearable.

"Fine," she muttered, her voice low, her gaze dropping to the floor. "But I'm not letting this go."

"Didn't think you would," Dante replied, his smile softening. He picked up the fork again, resuming his meal as though their conversation hadn't just opened a wound she didn't know how to close.