"Love is not finding someone you can live with, it's finding someone you can't live without." Rafael Marquez

Saint

Veronica was radiant. Watching her move through the crowd, laughing with Hayley, her best friend, a weight lifted off my shoulders. For a few hours, at least, she was just Veronica. Not Veronica, the target. Not Veronica, the responsibility. Just Veronica, enjoying a night out. And that… that was everything.

Earlier, when she’d pulled me aside, her eyes filled with worry, I’d hated having to brush her off. But I couldn’t tell her. Not yet. It was just a hunch, a feeling in my gut. And after the week she’d had, after the constant fear and uncertainty, I refused to add to her burden with just a *maybe*. Tonight, she was happy. Tonight, she was carefree. And I was determined to protect that, to let her, and myself, hold onto this feeling for as long as possible.

The feeling of being watched was still there, a prickling sensation at the back of my neck. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but I’d been doing this long enough to trust my instincts. Someone was watching us. And I needed to know who, and why. But I needed proof, something concrete, before I brought Veronica into it. She’d been on edge enough already, and tonight… tonight was for her.

I’d scanned the room countless times, searching for anything out of place, anything that screamed danger. But everyone seemed normal, caught up in the music and the celebration. Too normal, perhaps. That was what worried me. But a hunch wasn’t enough.

Hayley’s arrival had been a welcome distraction. She was good for Veronica, bringing out a lightness I rarely saw. And for a while, I could relax, knowing that she was surrounded by friends, safe. But the feeling of unease lingered, a knot tightening in my gut.

As the night wore on, I kept my eyes on Veronica, even as I engaged in polite conversation with Hayley’s friends. I was always aware of my surroundings, always assessing, always protecting. It was my job, my duty. And it was more than that. It was… personal.

Seeing her laugh, her eyes sparkling with joy, it was a reminder of what was at stake. She wasn’t just a client, she was… something more. Something I couldn’t quite define, but something precious, something worth protecting at all costs. Something I couldn't live without.

When she’d dragged me onto the dance floor, I’d almost protested. Dancing wasn’t my forte. But the look in her eyes, the sheer joy radiating from her, made me relent. And for those few minutes, as we swayed to the music, I allowed myself to forget about everything else. I allowed myself to simply enjoy being with her.

As the night drew to a close, I felt a familiar sense of dread creeping in. The party was ending, and soon, we’d be back in the real world, the world of threats and danger. I knew I needed to tell her about my suspicions, but I didn’t want to ruin the night. I wanted her to have this, this brief respite from the fear that had become a constant companion. I needed more than a feeling before I did that.

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As we headed back to the hotel, Veronica hummed along to the music on the radio, her voice soft and melodic. She had a beautiful voice, a hidden talent she rarely displayed. I enjoyed every moment, every note. It was a perfect end to a perfect night.

Back in the quiet of the hotel room, the festive atmosphere faded, replaced by a comfortable silence. Veronica turned to me, a small smile gracing her lips. "Thank you, Saint," she said softly. "For tonight. It was… wonderful."

"You're welcome, Veronica," I replied, my voice husky. "You deserve it."

She hesitated for a moment, then turned her back to me. "Could you… help me with my dress?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. "The zipper is stuck."

I stepped closer, my heart pounding in my chest. As I reached for the zipper, my fingers brushed against the delicate lace of her gown. She was so close, her warmth radiating through the fabric. I could smell the faint scent of her perfume, a subtle floral fragrance that was uniquely Veronica. My hand hesitated for a moment, then I gently pulled the zipper down, revealing the smooth skin of her back. "There you go," I murmured, my voice low. The silence in the room seemed to amplify, the only sound the soft click of the zipper. My fingers lingered for a moment longer than necessary, the feel of her skin sending a shiver down my spine. Instead of stepping back, I moved closer, my hand gently tracing the line of her spine. She shivered, her breath catching in her throat. Turning, she met my gaze, her eyes filled with a mixture of vulnerability and desire. The unspoken tension between us crackled in the air, a palpable energy that neither of us could deny. I leaned in, my lips brushing against hers in a soft, tentative kiss. It was a question, a silent plea. She responded in kind, her lips parting slightly as she deepened the kiss, her hands reaching up to tangle in my hair. The world seemed to fade away, the only reality the feel of her body against mine, the taste of her lips, the overwhelming desire that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long. Her hands moved to the buttons of my shirt, her touch sending a jolt of electricity through me. We broke the kiss briefly, gasping for air, our eyes locked in a silent conversation. Then, with a shared breath, we kissed again, more urgently this time, the need to connect, to possess, to surrender, consuming us. Clothes were shed in a flurry of movement, whispered moans filled the air, and in the quiet sanctuary of the hotel room, we found solace in each other's arms. Her skin was soft and warm beneath my touch, her breath quickening as I explored the curves of her body. She arched against me, her fingers digging into my back, her moans growing louder as I found her center. It was different with her. It had never felt like this before. Every touch, every kiss, every shared breath was amplified, magnified, as if the very air between us was charged with an electric current. Her closeness, her vulnerability, her trust… it was intoxicating. The first time was tentative, hesitant, a dance of discovery and exploration. But as we moved together, the rhythm grew more confident, more passionate, the world shrinking to the sensations of touch, taste, and the building crescendo of pleasure. She felt so good, so right, in my arms. It was as if she was made for me, and I for her. We were lost in each other, consumed by the moment, the boundaries between us blurring until we were one. And as we reached our peak, our cries echoing in the stillness of the room, we knew that this was just the beginning.

Later, as we lay tangled together, the silence was comfortable, filled with the lingering echo of our passion. Veronica stirred in my arms, her head resting on my chest. "Saint," she murmured, her voice soft and sleepy.

"Hmm?" I replied, gently stroking her hair.

She was quiet for a moment, then spoke again, her voice barely a whisper. "Thank you," she said. "For… everything."

I knew what she was thanking me for. Not just for the night, not just for the passion we’d shared, but for the unspoken promise that lay between us. A promise of protection, of trust, of something more. Something I couldn't live without.

"You don't have to thank me," I whispered back, tightening my hold on her. "I'll always be here for you, Veronica. Always."

And as I held her close, the weight of my responsibilities settled back on my shoulders. The feeling of being watched was still there, a persistent whisper in the back of my mind. I knew that the night was over, that the real world, with all its dangers and uncertainties, was waiting for us. But for now, in the quiet darkness of the hotel room, with Veronica safe in my arms, I allowed myself a moment of peace. A moment of hope. Because even in the face of danger, even with the weight of protection pressing down on me, I knew that what we had was worth fighting for. And I would fight. For her. For us. I would fight until my last breath.