Emma, are you sure you would like to proceed with this? Standing at the entrance of her studio, coat half-zipped, ready to go, Lucas's words floated at the border of her daydream. His black eyes were full of gentle worry—a look she both wanted and dreaded.
One hand on the doorframe, she stopped. Lucas, I have to confront it. I can't keep hiding from reality. Like glass about to break, her sentences were consistent but fragile.
Swallowing, he moved onward. Dinner will be nice—just us, no interruptions. I beg you.
Emma was able to nod slightly. Sure. Let's leave.
The restaurant was small, with lanterns gently illuminating the edges of the space. Lucas guided her to a corner table covered in rich blue linens. Smoothing her skirt and pushing herself to look at him, Emma sunk into the chair, her pulse racing.
Lucas sat across from her. "I've been thinking about you," he added softly, pushing a menu her way.
Emma's lips formed a thankful grin. "I have considered you as well," she thought. But the words fell flat in her heart. She looked over the menu but found nothing. Those two straightforward words—"I miss you"—echoed in her head.
Sensing Emma's incapacity to decide, a waitress came, and Lucas ordered for them both: spaghetti for her and steak for him. The waitress left them alone in the close quiet.
Reaching across the table, Lucas covered her hand with his. "You know I'm here, correct?" You don't have to go through those steps by yourself.
Emma gasped. His hand's warmth on hers dissolved some of the ice she had constructed around her heart. But the worry that had plagued her for days returned, a whisper at the periphery of her consciousness: What if he departs? What if everything collapses?
She made herself grin. "I understand."
The lights of the restaurant flickered before Lucas could answer. The floor vibrated with a deep hum, which caused the silverware to clink on plates. Guests whispered, and outside, a distant, shrill, and threatening siren blared.
"What is that sound?" Starting with her heart racing, Emma said,
Lucas arose and covered her with his body. Remain down. As a panel in the wall broke open, exposing a shining apparatus linked to cables running into the restaurant's ceiling, he dragged her behind the table.
Gun drawn, a masked operator in black tactical gear emerged. "Everyone stay where you are!" he yelled, his voice muffled by the mask. "No one move!"
Emma's heart raced. The incident was an assault, not a coincidence.
Lucas kept his gaze on the operative as he fingered his lips. Keep low, Emma.
The operative drew his gun. "Phones off, now!" he said, waving a remote with flashing lights—an improvised destabilizer. An electronic click shut the exit doors of the eatery.
Emma's hands trembled over her wine glass. Lucas, what should we do?
Lucas clenched his jaw. I will take care of him. You take everyone outside.
She blinked, combining incredulity with adrenaline. "I—how?"
He touched her lips with a finger. Believe me.
He rose and moved into the dim light pouring from the gadget. "Let him go," Lucas shouted out in a calm, booming voice that seemed to fill the room.
The operative paused, taken aback by Lucas's calm. Praying, Emma held her breath.
Lucas moved with controlled elegance, his eyes focused on the operative's. He whispered softly, "You don't have to do this." It's just dinner for us.
The operator's trigger finger twitched. Stand back!
Lucas did not. Suddenly, he kicked the table leg, causing it to slide into the operative's knee. The person cried out and fell, his gun crashing to the ground. In a flurry of movement, Lucas disarmed him and sent him hurtling into a booth.
Sparks danced as the destabilizer wobbled. Emma fought her way free and helped other customers rise. "This way! "This way! She yelled, "Emergency exit!" with a voice more forceful than her true emotions.
From the operative's coat pocket, Lucas zip-tied him under handcuffs. "You're not walking out of here," he muttered, tucking the person into a corner.
Emma took hold of Lucas's arm. "We have to get these folks out." He looked at her twice; the first time, the intense protectiveness in his eyes gave way to relief that she was unharmed.
Toward the rear entrance, they guided a tattered line of customers through the dimmed restaurant past toppled chairs and surprised personnel. The siren howled outside, growing louder. After the suffocating heat indoors, the night air felt surprisingly chilly.
Covering their withdrawal, Lucas kept one eye on the destabilizer still buzzing dangerously and shouted, "Go!"
Emma led the last diners down the alley. "Is everyone alright?" she said nervously.
Nervous nods and grateful whispers followed. Emma looked at Lucas. What is the status of the gadget?
Ripping the wires loose with a quick pull, he ran the danger of a spark that may set off an explosion. He then tossed the canister onto the street, where it slid to a stop and faded out in a last puff of smoke.
With weapons drawn and spotlights slicing across the darkness, police and bomb squad members rushed into the restaurant, the front doors bursting open. As the experts entered, Lucas protectively wrapped an arm around Emma.
A cop came by, nodding at Lucas's controlled operative. "Good work," he replied briefly. From here on out, we'll handle it.
Tension pouring from his muscles, Lucas exhaled. Her body shaking from excitement and relief, Emma leaned her head on his shoulder.
With a shaky voice, she said, "Lucas..." "You rescued every one of them," she continued, her voice filled with gratitude.
He turned to her, his eyes glistening under the flashing police lights. Nothing could happen to you, I said. His hand stroked her face. "Not once more."
Emma glanced into his piercing gaze, her defenses falling down as she looked up at him. "I was so terrified," she said, her voice breaking. "Afraid you'd go, afraid I'd lose you."
Lucas held her face in his hands. I am staying put. He kissed her brow. "I am here now and always."
She shut her eyes to the emotional maelstrom. As she said, "I love you, Lucas," the chilly night air pricked her tears.
He grinned, a strong, gentle raising of his lips. Emma, I adore you as well. At first, his kiss was gentle, a promise, not a need. Then, with a rush of desire, it deepened—a desperate, snatched moment among the turmoil almost destroying them.
Safely down the street, the bomb team exploded the device; a quiet boom rolled over the city as if it were exhaling its sigh of relief. Emma and Lucas stood next to one another, their hug unbreakable.
Lucas whispered against her hair, "The walls we build can't keep love out forever."
Emma agreed, her anxiety and uncertainty fading in the warmth of his remarks. "Hiding is exhausting," she remarked. No matter how frightening it may be, she is ready to let you in.
Lucas put his brow to hers. We then confront the world as one.
Emma and Lucas went back to the calm of her studio after the assault, the brutality of the night still resonating in their hearts. Unfinished, the painting on the easel awaited her return to the storm she had caught in the hue.
Emma brushed her teeth against Lucas's gaze. "Together, let us complete it."
Grinning, he grabbed a second brush. "Together."
In that stolen time—caught between optimism and dread, barriers demolished and futures reconstructed—they started to paint a new chapter of their tale.