A Ghost With No Name- Bl- Officer and Thief

Chapter Twenty-One- A Thief's Heart, A Soldier's Silence

And then, later, when Elias wasn't looking—he had doubled back and swiped it anyway.

He didn't know why.

He told himself it was a habit. He stole things. It was what he did.

Except he hadn't tossed it. Hadn't traded it for cash or used it as scrap paper.

He carried it with him. Everywhere.

And now, as he sat there, fingers running over the edges, he felt something heavy press against his ribs.

I like him.

The thought came unbidden, a whisper, a fact he could no longer ignore.

Zev's throat tightened.

Because it didn't matter. Because Elias was good—too good. A soldier, a cop, someone with a future. And Zev was just... Zev. A street rat with a bruised body and a stolen lighter burning a hole in his pocket.

It was ridiculous. Impossible. Elias didn't—couldn't—like him back.

But Zev still wanted to hear his voice.

With a sharp inhale, he pushed himself up, shoving the card into his pocket.

The apartment didn't have much—barely anything, really—but there was a phone in the corner, bolted to the wall. He stepped over a pile of laundry, picking up the receiver with slightly unsteady fingers.

He dialled.

Elias answered on the second ring.

"König."

Zev exhaled shakily, gripping the phone tighter.

He hadn't planned what to say. He never planned.

"...Meet me," he muttered, voice quieter than he meant it to be.

A pause. Then Elias's voice, steady as ever. "Where?"

"The bench."

"When?"

Zev swallowed. "Now."

Another pause. Then—

"Alright. I'll be there."

Zev hung up before he could second-guess himself.

---

The bench was cold under him.

Zev hunched forward, arms resting on his knees, eyes fixed on the pavement ahead. The city breathed around him—faint music from a distant bar, the occasional hiss of tires against wet asphalt.

His fingers curled around the edges of his sleeves.

Elias would show up. He knew he would. That was the problem.

Footsteps.

Zev looked up, and there he was—Elias, hands tucked into the pockets of his brown coat, walking toward him with that same quiet, steady presence. His expression was unreadable, but his green eyes flickered with something—curiosity, maybe. Concern.

He didn't say anything at first, just sat down beside Zev, leaving space between them. Just enough.

Zev let out a breath. "You actually showed up."

"You called," Elias said simply.

Zev scoffed, shifting slightly. "Yeah, well. People don't always answer when I call."

Elias didn't respond right away. He sat down beside Zev, leaving just enough space between them, like he always did.

They sat in silence for a while, the city breathing around them.

Zev hated how easy it was to be near Elias. How, even now, even with this fucking thing clawing at his chest, Elias wasn't pushing.

Eventually, Elias tilted his head slightly. "What's on your mind?"

Zev huffed out a bitter laugh. "Nothing."

Elias didn't call him a liar. Didn't push for more.

Just sat there. Waiting.

Zev clenched his jaw, his breath sharp in the cold air. He wanted to say something.

Something real.

But he didn't know how.

Zev's stomach twisted. He shouldn't say anything. Shouldn't ruin this.

But his fingers twitched, and before he could stop himself, he reached into his pocket and shoved something toward Elias.

A small, slightly worn lighter.

Elias took it, turning it over in his palm. "You're giving me a lighter?"

Zev looked away. "I stole it."

Elias flicked it open, watching as a small flame danced between them before he snapped it shut again. His brow furrowed slightly. "You smoke?"

Zev hesitated. "No."

Elias studied him for a second, thoughtful. He knew Zev was high sometimes when they met—he could see it in his eyes, in the way he moved—but he'd never actually seen him light up.

Zev exhaled, tugging his sleeves over his hands. "Just figured you could use a decent one. You always carry those shitty disposables."

Elias didn't say anything. Just held the lighter for a moment, thumb running over its surface.

Then, softly—"Thank you."

Zev clenched his jaw. His stomach felt tight, like he'd just handed over something more important than a cheap lighter.

He scoffed, kicking a loose pebble by his foot. "It's not a big deal."

Elias wasn't looking at the lighter anymore.

He was looking at Zev.

And for the first time, Zev had the sinking feeling that maybe—just maybe—Elias saw through every single one of his bullshit excuses.

His chest ached with something he didn't have a name for.

So he shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and muttered, "Tch. Whatever. You wanna sit here all night, or you wanna do something?"

Elias tilted his head slightly. "Like what?"

Zev hesitated. He wasn't going to ask for food. He wasn't.

"...I dunno," he muttered. "Something."

Elias watched him for a moment, then nodded. "Alright. I know a place."

Zev hesitated.

Then, before he could think too hard about it, he stood and followed.

And if, somewhere deep down, his chest felt a little lighter—

Well.

He wasn't going to think about that too hard.

---   

This is my favourite chapter so far