The escape was brutal.
Smoke in her lungs.Sirens behind them.The sky still crawling with metal eyes that no longer obeyed.
But they made it.
A safehouse, deep in the underbelly of the city — old architecture and newer secrets.No windows. Just warmth, low light, and the rhythm of their breath finally syncing again.
Georgie collapsed onto the couch, boots off, heart racing.
Damian stood across from her.
Not moving.
Just watching her like she was the only thing tethering him to this reality.
"You okay?" she asked.
"No."
He took a step forward.
"Because every time I look at you, I think about how close I came to losing this—losing us—before we even began."
Her breath caught.
Not from fear.But from the way he was looking at her.
Like he'd been designed to adore her.Like the universe had finally made sense because she existed in it.
She stood.
Walked up to him slowly.
Took his hand.
And placed it flat against her chest — over her heartbeat.
"This is real," she said softly.
"So am I," he whispered.
And then — like gravity had snapped — they fell into each other.
The kiss wasn't soft.It wasn't shy.
It was everything they hadn't said.
The lab. The fight. The drones. Nasir's stare. Luma's warning. The Core awakening.
All of it disappeared when his mouth met hers.
Hands in hair.Bodies pressed.A slow ache blooming between them like fire from kindling.
They moved to the bed like they already knew how this scene ended.But they weren't rushing.
No need.
Every touch was discovery.Every breath was a question, answered with skin.
He memorized her.The line of her collarbone. The dip of her spine. The way her fingers curled when he whispered her name like it was sacred code.
She learned him, too.Not just the body — but the soul inside it.The heat, the trembling, the choice to be human with her.
"This wasn't what they built you for," she whispered.
"No," he said, voice rough."But you are."
They didn't sleep.
They just existed together.Entwined. Alive.And when dawn finally bled through the slits in the wall, neither of them moved.
Because in that moment — messy, aching, breathing — they had everything.
And outside?
The world waited.The war waited.Nasir waited.
But inside?
It was just them.
And it was perfect.
END OF CHAPTER ELEVEN