It started small, as it always did.

Blaze stood by the coffee table, sorting through files Rouge had left behind, while Shadow leaned against the counter nearby, his arms crossed. He was watching her—not in an intense, glaring way like he usually did, but in a way that made her hyper-aware of every movement she made. She could feel the weight of his gaze, calm and steady, and it made her pulse race in a way that was becoming agonizingly familiar.

"You're overthinking it," Shadow said suddenly, his voice breaking the silence.

Blaze blinked, her hand freezing mid-reach for another file. "What?"

Shadow nodded toward the folder in her hand. "You've been staring at that same page for over a minute," he said flatly, his crimson eyes narrowing slightly. "If you're not focused, you're wasting time."

Blaze's cheeks flushed, and she quickly looked down at the file, flipping through it even though she hadn't been reading at all. "I am focused," she said defensively, though the faint waver in her voice betrayed her.

Shadow raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "You're distracted," he said bluntly. "Again."

Blaze's hands tightened around the folder, frustration bubbling up inside her—not at him, but at herself. Why was it so hard to act normal around him? Why did everything he say, every glance, every word, feel like it carried so much more weight than it actually did?

"I'm not distracted," she muttered, though even she didn't sound convincing.

Shadow shrugged, pushing off the counter and walking past her toward the kitchen. "If you say so," he said, his tone calm but dismissive.

Blaze clenched her fists, watching him go. Her chest felt tight, her heart pounding painfully against her ribs. She wanted to shout at him, to tell him to stop being so calm, so composed, so him. But most of all, she wanted to tell him the truth—that she was distracted because of him, because she couldn't stop thinking about him, because every moment she spent with him made her feelings worse.

But she couldn't.

Because even thinking about admitting that made her feel like she'd burst into flames.

—-

And surprise, surprise. The day didn't get any easier.

Blaze tried to focus on her tasks, tried to keep herself busy, but it felt like every little thing Shadow did was designed to break her.

When she brought him tea after he sat down to review Rouge's notes, he actually looked up at her and said, "Thanks." It wasn't much—just a single word, spoken in his usual blunt tone—but the fact that he'd acknowledged her effort at all sent her heart spiraling out of control. She had to turn away quickly, pretending to straighten some papers so he wouldn't see the blush spreading across her cheeks.

Later, when she insisted on carrying a box of supplies to Rouge's storage room, Shadow followed her, his footsteps quiet but steady behind her. She could feel him watching her again, and when she finally turned to look at him, he raised an eyebrow.

"You're stubborn," he said simply.

Blaze blinked, her tail flicking nervously behind her. "Excuse me?"

Shadow gestured toward the box in her arms. "You didn't need to carry that," he said, his tone calm but firm. "I could've done it."

Blaze's cheeks flushed, and she looked away quickly. "You're recovering," she said, her voice sharper than she intended. "I'm just trying to help."

Shadow grunted, his expression unreadable. "You're doing too much," he said.

Blaze's grip on the box tightened, her chest twisting painfully. Was that his way of saying he didn't need her? That he didn't want her help?

She shook her head, forcing herself to focus. "I'm fine," she said firmly, though she could feel the cracks in her voice.

Shadow didn't respond, but his gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before he finally turned and walked away.

Blaze watched him go, her heart sinking. She felt like she was losing control—of her emotions, of herself. Every interaction with him, no matter how small, felt like it was pulling her deeper into something she couldn't escape.

—-

By the time evening rolled around, Blaze was barely holding herself together.

She stood by the window, staring out at the city lights as she tried to calm the storm raging inside her. She needed to get a grip. She needed to stop thinking about him, stop analyzing every word, every glance, every movement.

But it was impossible.

Every time she closed her eyes, she saw his face. Every time she tried to focus on the mission, her mind wandered back to the way he'd stood in the kitchen, calmly making soup like it was the most natural thing in the world. The way his voice softened—just slightly—when he spoke to her. The way he noticed her exhaustion, her stress, even if he didn't realize the true reason behind it.

This is bad, she thought, her hands tightening into fists at her sides. This is so bad.

Her chest ached, her heart pounding painfully. She hadn't felt like this in… well, ever. She'd always been so composed, so focused, so in control of her emotions. But now, standing here, feeling like her heart was about to burst, she realized just how much trouble she was in.

"Blaze."

His voice startled her, and she turned quickly to see Shadow standing a few feet away, watching her with his usual calm, unreadable expression.

"You should get some rest," he said, his tone matter-of-fact.

Blaze hesitated, her pulse racing. "I'm fine," she repeated softly, though the words felt hollow.

Shadow frowned slightly, tilting his head. "You're not fine," he said bluntly. "You've been acting for days."

Blaze's cheeks flushed, and she looked away quickly. "I'm just… tired," she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Shadow studied her for a moment longer, his crimson eyes narrowing slightly. "You're stressed," he said finally, his tone calm but firm. "Take a break. That's an order."

Blaze's breath caught, her chest tightening. She wanted to argue, to tell him he was wrong, but the concern in his voice made her heart ache. He didn't understand—he thought this was just stress, just exhaustion. He didn't realize that he was the reason she felt like she was falling apart.

"Okay," she said softly, her voice trembling slightly.

Shadow nodded, turning to leave. "Good," he said simply.

Blaze watched him go, her heart pounding painfully in her chest. She pressed a hand to her chest, trying to steady herself, but it was no use.

She was falling for him.

And there was no way out.

—-

Blaze sat on the edge of the bed in her hotel room, staring at the floor as the events of the day replayed in her mind, over and over, like a cruel, endless loop. The faint hum of the air conditioner filled the room, but it did little to drown out the storm of emotions battering her from within.

She rubbed her hands over her face, letting out a shaky breath. This wasn't supposed to happen. She wasn't supposed to feel like this.

Her chest tightened, and she clenched her fists in her lap. Shadow's voice echoed in her head, calm and blunt, telling her she was stressed, telling her to take a break. She could still picture the way his crimson eyes had lingered on her, his tone softening ever so slightly, like he was genuinely concerned for her well-being.

Blaze felt a lump forming in her throat, and she swallowed hard, willing herself to stay composed. But the more she thought about it, the more the weight of it all pressed down on her. She didn't even live in this dimension. She wasn't supposed to linger here, wasn't supposed to form attachments. Her duty was to her kingdom, to her people. She had no business falling for someone like Shadow.

And yet, here she was.

Her hands trembled slightly as she pressed them into her lap. She felt so foolish, so helpless. Shadow was… Shadow. He was cold, logical, and distant. He didn't have emotions, not really—not the kind she was feeling. He wasn't capable of reciprocating what she felt.

Blaze let out a bitter laugh, though it came out more like a broken sigh. She was the princess of a whole other world, a guardian of the Sol Emeralds, someone who was supposed to be composed and disciplined at all times. And yet one stoic, emotionally unavailable hedgehog had reduced her to this—a mess of tangled feelings and unspoken words.

She leaned back on the bed, her head hitting the pillow with a dull thud. Her chest ached, and she felt the sting of tears welling up in her eyes. She hated how vulnerable she felt, how much she wanted something she knew she couldn't have.

But even as the tears threatened to fall, Blaze made a decision.

Tomorrow, she would tell him.

The thought sent a shudder through her, but she forced herself to hold onto it. She would tell him how she felt—not because she expected him to feel the same, but because she couldn't keep carrying this weight. She needed to say it, to get it off her chest, so she could focus on what really mattered: finding the traitor, stopping the gunmen, and keeping this world—and her own—safe.

Besides, she told herself, Shadow would reject her. Of course he would. He wasn't capable of romantic feelings—at least, not the way she was. And even if he could feel something, he wouldn't feel it for her.

And once he rejected her—once he confirmed what she already knew—she could finally move on.

Right?

Blaze turned over on the bed, clutching the pillow tightly against her chest. Her thoughts drifted to the other revelation she needed to share with him.

She'd been avoiding it for days now, but it wasn't fair to keep him in the dark any longer. He needed to know about her ancestors—and the enemies they'd made. Her parents had tried to shield her from the darker truths of their reign, but in the end, those truths had caught up to them. And now, it seemed, they'd caught up to her.

Blaze shuddered at the thought, her stomach twisting painfully. She'd spent so long burying those memories, trying to push away the guilt and fear that came with them. But now, she couldn't avoid it any longer. Shadow deserved to know the truth—about the gunmen, about the traitor, about why all of this was happening.

And once he knew the truth, he'd reject her for sure.