Tomas sat on the edge of the sofa, watching Laura sleep.
She slept so peacefully it stole the air from his lungs. Her lips were slightly parted, her eyelashes resting delicately against her cheeks, her face soft, unguarded. The cold blue night light spilled in through the window, and the streetlamp painted silver stripes across her skin — as if she belonged to another, gentler world.
And he was here, beside her. Still unable to believe she was real.
Slowly, quietly, he pulled the black notebook from his jacket pocket and flipped to the page with the list.
He ran a finger over the crossed-out numbers: 1, 2, 3, 4, 8, 9 — "kiss Laura" — crossed out only last night. The ink still looked slightly smudged.
He took the silver pen his father had given him — the only thing left from a life long buried — and with a hand that trembled just slightly less than it used to, he wrote:
10. Be with Laura and protect her.
11. Find out what NovaCure and Laura's uncle are hiding — and what they want from her.
He closed the notebook with a quiet sigh.
"It's late. I should sleep," he whispered to himself. But sleep felt impossible.
The black car still haunted his mind. Her uncle. NovaCure. Blood.
Everything could end in a heartbeat.
He walked back to the sofa, leaned down, and carefully lifted Laura into his arms. She was so light it hurt him — hurt that anyone had ever wanted to break someone so fragile, so warm.
Her head fell against his shoulder; her hair smelled like jasmine and something he couldn't name — something that felt like home.
He carried her to her room, laid her gently on the bed, and pulled the grey blanket over her.
The moment his fingers brushed her cheek, Laura stirred, her voice trembling through sleep:
"Please… don't go…"
Tomas froze — then broke.
"I'm not going anywhere," he breathed, voice barely holding together.
He lay beside her on top of the blanket.
Laura instantly curled against him, wrapping her arms around his waist as if afraid he'd vanish. She pressed her face into his neck, warm and trusting.
"I want to be next to you forever," she murmured, half awake.
Tomas stroked her hair slowly, feeling each strand slip through his fingers.
"I think… I'm falling in love with you," he whispered, so softly even he barely heard it.
Laura's fingers rested on his chest — right above his heart — and she felt it pounding wildly, uncontrollably, as if trying to reach her.
"I love you," she whispered back, lifting her gaze to his.
They kissed — slow, tender, fragile — and that night, for the first time, they gave in to their desire. Slow. Gentle. Burning with the fear that tomorrow might never come.
---
Morning
Laura woke first.
Sunlight crept through the curtains in a soft golden haze. But the air felt heavy — like the pressure that comes before a storm.
She opened her eyes and met Tomas' face close to hers. His long eyelashes. The faint pillow mark on his cheek. The warmth of him beside her.
How lucky I am… she thought, her throat tightening.
Someone I can trust. Someone who's truly mine.
Then the memory of the black car struck her like a punch.
Tomas stirred awake.
The first thing he saw was her expression — bright, but shadowed with worry.
"Good morning," he murmured, smiling softly, though his smile faded at her eyes.
"Good morning," she whispered, leaning closer as if afraid he might disappear. "How did you sleep?"
"Very well. And you?" His voice was low, still rough with sleep.
"I slept really well," she answered, kissing him gently. "I'm so happy… and so scared at the same time."
Tomas brushed her cheek.
"We can handle whatever comes."
"But… today," he whispered, "I want to go to NovaCure. Just to see the building's layout up close."
"I want to come with you…" she said, but then she's expression darkened. "But I have to work today."
"It's okay," he said quickly, though disappointment flashed in her eyes. "Next time."
They got up and went to the kitchen.
Together, they made pancakes — moving around each other naturally, laughing softly, bumping shoulders.
The apartment felt warm, domestic.
Both of them thought the same thing:
This finally feels like home…
And we could lose it at any moment.
After breakfast, Tomas' voice grew quiet again.
"Alright. I'll change and head toward NovaCure. But first I need to return the rental car."
She looked at him intently. "If you find anything — text me. And please be careful."
"You too," Tomas whispered. "Call me if something seems wrong. Anything."
They hugged tightly.
"I worry about you," Tomas murmured into her hair — his voice breaking for the first time in years.
"I worry about you too… and I want to do everything together. Because all of this is happening because of me…"
"You didn't do anything wrong," he replied softly. "And you're not alone now."
They held each other for a long moment before he finally pulled away.
"I really have to go," Tomas said, voice unsteady.
"…Okay," Laura whispered, letting him go with trembling hands.
She stared at the door long after it closed — terrified he wouldn't come back.
---
Tomas
He returned the rental car, then walked toward the NovaCure district on foot.
Cameras rotated every 8 seconds.
Guards switched every 4 hours.
Entry required ID cards — even cleaners used temporary green ones.
He approached the reception, pretending to read the announcements. In one smooth motion, he snapped a photo of the building map on the wall, then walked out as if nothing mattered.
He memorized several employees.
One in particular — a middle-aged man with grey sideburns and a worn brown leather jacket — always left early and stopped by a bar called Exits.
Perfect.
After his shift ended, Tomas followed him.
At the bar, he waited.
The man drank too much, became talkative, loud, sloppy.
Tomas approached him.
"Good thing you're not working tomorrow," Tomas said casually.
"Ha! I've got two days off. Let me drink in peace!" the man laughed, slapping the bar. "Drinks on me!"
Tomas noticed the ID card sticking out of his pants pocket like a careless invitation.
After an hour, the man could barely stand.
"Let me call you a taxi," Tomas offered, supporting him — and with an invisible, practiced movement, slipped the ID card out.
Cold. Clean. Perfect.
Now I can get into NovaCure.
Tomorrow or the day after — before he even notices it's missing.
He helped the man into the taxi, closed the door, then turned and walked into the night.
---
Laura
Laura was finishing her shift at Obsidian.
All day she'd thought about Tomas.
Whether he was safe.
Whether the wound hurt.
Whether he'd come home.
Every customer felt like a potential threat.
Every engine outside sounded like the black car.
Her mind kept drifting back to her mother.
To the past.
To that small grey plush bear with a red ribbon — the prize from an amusement park she'd visited with her.
The only thing left from her mother.
But what could a toy possibly have to do with NovaCure?
Probably nothing…
Or maybe — everything.
Finally, her shift ended.
She stepped outside, zipped her jacket, her heart pounding so hard she felt it in her throat, and hurried toward home —
Where Tomas was waiting.