Mistaken Identity

6

After a hot shower and brushing his teeth, Ben finally felt somewhat human again. The night's events still weighed heavily on him, but the physical grime had been washed away, leaving him feeling slightly more grounded.

To his surprise, she opted not to handcuff him that night, a small gesture that spoke volumes in their world of trust and uncertainty. He walked into the living room where Miranda was sitting, she looked as if she was waiting for him as she nursed a glass of bourbon.

"How do you feel" She asked, but to Ben, it felt like a loaded question. It didn't seem that she genuinely wanted to know how he was feeling but rather was testing him. So instead of answering, he asked her the question that had been haunting him since the moment he had pulled the trigger—the question that lingered in the depths of his mind, waiting to be voiced.

"What was your first time taking a life like?" he asked "How did you feel"

Miranda looked up from her glass, her eyes meeting his with a mix of surprise and something else—perhaps a hint of understanding. She took a slow sip of her drink before setting the glass down on the table beside her. She motioned for him to join her on the couch and he did so but leaving some distance between them.

"It was a long time ago," she began, her voice distant as if she were looking back through a fog of memories. "I was young, and trying to prove myself in any way possible. My father... W.B.....he wanted to test me, to see if I had what it took to be part of this world."

Ben listened intently, every word she spoke drawing him in further.

"There was a man," she continued, "someone who had wronged us, much like tonight. My father handed me the gun and told me it was my responsibility to uphold our code."

She paused, taking another sip of her bourbon. "I remember feeling a lot of things—fear, anger, confusion. But above all, I felt the weight of the expectations placed on me. So, I did it. I pulled the trigger. Execution style."

Miranda's eyes were distant, lost in the memory. "I didn't sleep that night. The man deserved it and I tried so hard to remember that but at the end of the day. It was still the fact that I killed someone that haunted me. But I learned to live with it because I had to. In this world, you have to be strong, or you won't survive."

Ben nodded, absorbing her words. "Does it really get easier?" he asked quietly.

Miranda looked at him, her eyes searching his. "Oddly, it does," she admitted. "Or maybe you just learn to be cold, to detach yourself. Eventually, it stops mattering as much. You focus on the reasons why you're doing it, on the code, on survival."

Her words hung in the air, and Ben could feel the cold truth of them. The life he was now a part of demanded a certain detachment, a hardness that he wasn't sure he could ever fully embrace.

Without thinking, driven by a confusing mix of gratitude, fear, and an overwhelming need for human connection, Ben scooted closer to her. Before he could second-guess himself, he leaned in and kissed her. The kiss was sudden, a desperate attempt to find solace and understanding in a world that had become alien to him.

For a brief moment, Miranda stiffened in surprise, but then she softened, her lips responding to his with a gentleness that contrasted sharply with the hard exterior she showed the world. Her hand came up to cup his face, pulling him closer as he wrapped his arms around her.

Their kiss continued, growing more passionate with each passing moment. Ben and Miranda's inhibitions melted away as they surrendered to the undeniable chemistry between them. In that intimate embrace, they found a sense of freedom, a release from the constraints of their world.