The gentle sound of waves lapped against the now-empty pier. Morning had risen high, yet the sky remained gray as if unwilling to let go of the night that had just bled away.
Alaska sat on the edge of the balcony of his beach house outside the city.
His black shirt was damp from last night's rain. The stitches on his arm had closed, yet his eyes still stared blankly.
The sliding door opened quietly.
Alana stepped out, wearing only Alaska's oversized white shirt.
Her hair was still damp, dripping onto her shoulders.
"You haven't slept again, huh?" she asked softly.
Alaska only gave a faint smile, not turning to look at her.
"Sleeping just makes the nightmares come faster."
Alana walked closer and sat beside him.
Her hand touched the wound on his arm.
"I was scared of losing you last night," she whispered.
"When I saw you bleeding, it felt like all the air in the world vanished at once."
Alaska looked at her, deep and sharp.
"I'm used to bleeding, Alana. But the first time I was scared was when I saw you in the middle of that firefight."
"You made me forget that I wasn't supposed to have feelings."
Alana smiled faintly.
"But you do."
"Yes," Alaska replied softly.
"And it feels insane."
A brief silence fell.
The sea breeze blew through Alana's hair, strands sticking to her cheek.
Alaska took her hand and pressed it against his chest.
"Listen," he said.
"Every time you're near, my heart races like this. And yet, before when I shot people, when I almost died it never thumped like this."
Alana looked into his eyes, half smiling, half trembling.
"Maybe it's because this time, your life isn't meant for war anymore."
"Then what is it for?"
"To feel loved."
Alaska fell silent.
He pulled Alana gently into his embrace, resting his chin on her shoulder.
Their breaths were slow but heavy like two souls calming the storms inside each other.
"You know, Alana?" Alaska whispered into her ear.
"All the battles I fought before… they've all lost to you."
"Don't say that."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't want you to give up."
"I'm not giving up." Alaska gazed at her, their lips barely an inch apart.
"I just finally found a reason to stop fighting."
Alana looked back at him, her lips trembling before she whispered,
"Then… stop here, with me."
And for the first time since the mafia world had swallowed him whole, Alaska let himself surrender not to pain, but to someone who made him want to live again.
A Few Hours Later
The evening sky glowed a soft orange.
Alana slept on the sofa, her head resting on Alaska's lap. He stared at her face for a long while, his fingers tracing her smooth cheek gently, as if afraid to touch something too fragile.
"I once had a world full of blood, Alana," he whispered softly.
"Now, I just want a world that has you in it. You are mine baby girl."
He kissed her forehead gently, then closed his eyes, letting the peace wrap around them both.