We are not people who touch each other carelessly; every point of contact between us feels important, a rush of energy and relief.

I touch her cheek to slow the kiss down, holding her mouth on mine so I can feel every place where our lips touch and every place where they pull away. I savor the air we share in the second afterwards and the slip of her nose across mine. I think of something to say, but it is too intimate, so I swallow it. A moment later I decide I don't care.

"I wish we were alone," I say as I back out of the cell.

She smiles. "I almost always wish that.

I love you" I say.
"I love you, too" he says. "I'll see you soon.

For a few minutes we kiss, deep in the chasm, with the roar of water all around us. And we rise, hand in hand, I realize that if we had both chosen differently, we might have ended up doing the same thing, in a safer place, in gray clothes instead of black ones.

Aren’t you going to ask me if I’m all right?” I say.
“No, I’m pretty sure you’re not all right.”
He shakes his head. “I’m going to ask you not to make any decisions until we’ve talked
about it.

I think you're still the only person sharp enough to sharpen someone like me.