Page 187 of Ghost Ribbon

I didn’t give a fuck.

If anyone said anything, I was entirely prepared to remind them that I had recently murdered a city block’s worth of people over a donor list and was not emotionally equipped for institutional push back over fresh air.

When we reached the garden doors and stepped outside, the night air touched us both at once.

I wheeled him slowly along the paved path between trimmed hedges and low flower beds. Marco tipped his head back against the wheelchair, eyes lifting to the fractured sky above.

The stars were sparse tonight, half-swallowed by low cloud, but he smiled at them anyway. From the inner pocket of my coat I drew the two ribbons. Green. I stepped behind the chair, careful not to startle, and gathered a small section of his dark hair. The silk slid through my fingers as I tied the first ribbon, then the second, the colour vivid even in the dim light.

He felt the gentle tug and turned his head just enough to catch my eye. A real smile curved his mouth.

“There they are,” he murmured. “I thought I’d lost them.”

I rested my hands on the back of the chair, voice low.

“You used to wear only black. Why green?”

His gaze drifted back to the sky for a second, then returned to me. “Because whenever I closed my eyes I saw yours. I wanted something that felt like looking at you even when you weren’t there.”

Marco reached up, caught my wrist, and guided me down until I was kneeling beside the chair the way I had once knelt beside his hospital bed. His fingers slid into my hair and he drew me the last inch forward.

The kiss was soft. When he pulled back just enough to speak, his breath warmed my lips.

“I missed the way you look at me,” he whispered. “I missed you baby.”

Heat rushed up my neck and across my face before I could stop it. Fucking hell. Even now. Even after everything. He still undid me with a single word.

I rose just enough to gather him carefully into my arms, mindful of every wire. He settled against my chest as though he had never left it. Together we tipped our faces toward the broken scatter of stars above the garden.

He was here. He was breathing.

Chapter 47 - Marco

I was discharged.

Finally.

My body was healing but I could walk without the grinding ache that had lived in my bones for as long as I could remember. I could climb stairs. I could carry my own bag. The absence of pain felt almost suspicious, like the universe was waiting to snatch it back the second I got comfortable. Still, I was upright, breathing on my own, and somehow back at the academy.

The second I stepped through the main doors, Sasha spotted me.

“Marco! You’re back—”

She launched herself forward, arms already open, ready to throw her entire body against mine.

She never made it.

A hand shot out, twisted hard into her hair, and yanked her backward with zero elegance. Ilya stood there looking deeply offended, Rei right beside him with an expression of pure disgust.

“Hands off, hag,” Ilya snapped. “Jesus Christ, do you ever not throw yourself at people?”

Sasha staggered, slapped his wrist, and glared. “It’s you again. Don’t you have someone else’s life to ruin?”

Ilya flashed a nasty little smile. “Yes, it’s me. Missed me? Don’t answer that, I already know the answer is yes.”

Rei’s lip curled like he’d just stepped in something dead. “God, the desperation is embarrassing. Go find another dick to climb. This one’s taken.”

I blinked. I knew Rei hated her - he’d never hidden it - but I had no idea Ilya had history with her too. The way they were looking at each other felt personal and filthy.