The ties that bind

Serena had built a quiet life here.

She woke up early, went for runs along the pier, drank her coffee without needing to be alert for danger, and sat in lecture halls where the biggest threats were deadlines and professors who talked too much.

It had taken months to adjust.

To wake up without expecting chaos. To let herself relax, to not reach for a knife whenever someone walked too close.

And most of all?

To exist without her family constantly breathing down her neck.

For the first time, Serena had space.

And she liked it.

So when she walked out of her last lecture that evening, the crisp ocean air filling her lungs, she wasn't expecting her past to be standing there waiting for her.

But then—

She heard him.

"Is this the part where you pretend you're not happy to see me?"

Serena froze.

For a second, she thought she imagined it.

It had been months since she heard that voice. Low, teasing, edged with something she could never quite place.

But she knew.

She knew.

Slowly, she turned—

And there he was.

Santiago.

Leaning against a lamppost like he had all the time in the world, hands in his pockets, dark eyes locked onto her.

Serena's stomach dropped.

"What," she said, voice flat, "the hell are you doing here?"

Santiago smirked.

But it wasn't just a smirk.

It was knowing. Amused.

Like he was already ten steps ahead of her, like he had been planning this.

Serena's pulse jumped.

Because, damn it, she should have expected this.

Should have expected him.

Serena stared at him, waiting for an answer.

Santiago tilted his head. "What? No hug?"

She blinked. Slow. Blank.

Then—she punched him.

Not hard. Just enough for him to grunt and grab his arm.

"What the hell, Tormenta?"

Serena scowled. "You show up in my city without warning, and you think I'm going to welcome you with open arms? You're lucky I didn't throw you into the ocean."

Santiago chuckled, shaking his head. "See? You did miss me."

Serena rolled her eyes so hard they nearly got stuck.

"I am literally reconsidering murder."

"That's the spirit."

Serena sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Santiago, seriously. What are you doing here?"

And then—for the first time since she saw him, he hesitated.

Not much. Just a flicker.

A beat of silence too long to be meaningless.