They have been running for days.
Very little rest, less food - because if they'd stopped for even a moment too long the Syndicate would have them and it would be over. And they know they can't run forever but they're not ready for it to be over. Not yet.
They drag themselves into one of the only safehouses he knows about that they don't. Their limbs are shaking from exhaustion, they can hardly see straight, but she murmurs a song under her breath and lights the fireplace already stacked with wood while he collapses onto the couch, the only visible piece of furniture soft enough to sleep on. She hesitates a moment, standing uncertainly in the middle of the room. But then he reaches for her and she crawls on top of him, eyes wide and shining and vulnerable, and he wraps his arms around her as she tucks her head under his chin.
Finally they are safe.