Sara Ikari Rodriguez
For the first time in a long time, it felt like we were allowed to breathe.
The morning after he returned from the Ikaris', Matio didn't say anything.
But I could see the weight he'd left behind.
His shoulders weren't as tight.
His jaw wasn't clenched.
His eyes — usually guarded — had that softness again.
We didn't need to speak.
He held me while I drank my coffee. I leaned against his chest like it was the most natural thing in the world.
And for that hour?
The world didn't feel dangerous.
Just... quiet.
"Do you regret it?" I asked softly.
His hand paused where it had been resting on my thigh.
"Regret what?"
"Coming back."
He looked at me, eyes unreadable. "No."
I blinked.
"I regret leaving."
We stayed like that a little while longer.
No masks. No
