I don’t ask for more.
Because the second I do, he’ll pull away.
So instead, I let the moment stretch. Let myself pretend this doesn’t have an expiration date.
Because I don’t know how to love him halfway.
And I don’t know how to leave him, either.
But maybe I don’t have to.
Maybe I can just drift.
5
I’M A COMPLETE FUCKING GONER
EZRA
The island is quiet—eerilyso.
Seagrove isn’t much to look at this time of year, its edges worn by relentless ocean winds, its skies smothered in dull, endless gray. To most people, it’s bleak—small and isolated, with no neighbors, no passing boats, and certainly no curious tourists.
But to me? It’s perfect.
A place untouched. Unbothered. Forgotten by the rest of the world.
Maybe, if the wind weren’t so brutal, insistent, like it’s trying to drive intruders back to the mainland—it would be even better.
But if I could keep Kruz here all to myself forever?
I would.
Winter in Seagrove is relentless. Unforgiving. The kind of cold that seeps into your soul and stays there.
On the rare days it isn’t raining, the fog rolls in so thick you can’t see more than a few feet ahead, turning the world into a hazy, muffled dreamscape. The ocean is never calm—always restless, always roaring, like it has something to say but no one to listen.
Occasionally, there’s snow. But it never stays—just a fleeting dusting, barely enough to appreciate before it melts into a slushy mess.
And yet, I love it.
There’s something about how raw and wild it all feels, like this place exists entirely on its own terms, indifferent to anyone’s expectations. Unapologetically itself.
But yeah, I could do without the wind stealing my hat every five minutes. Or the way my boots are perpetually damp, no matter how many times I set them by the fire.
The lighthouse looms over the rocky shoreline, its presence both steadfast and weathered, standing guard over a single, nearly dilapidated cottage tucked beneath its shadow. Beyond that, miles and miles of dark, unforgiving water stretch out in every direction, as far as the eye can see.
It’s isolated. Untamed. Brutal.
It’s exactly what I need it to be.
I’ve been here many times, but never like this. Never with someone else. And definitely never with a gorgeous hostage.
This island isn’t new to me. I’ve known about it for years—one of the Assembly’s hidden hubs, a place where deals were made in the dark and shipments moved without a trace. Trafficking, smuggling, quiet operations that never made the news but shaped the world in ways most people would never understand.
I came here before, shook hands with dangerous men, and walked these shores like I was untouchable. Because I was.
But now? Now, it’s different.
