Jerome didn't even have time to realize what happened the next second. Delia, with unimaginable determination, suddenly jumped up to him and threw herself into his arms. Her kiss was so fast that the boy didn't even have time to stop her. The girl's hot, soft lips touched his cheek, and at that moment the world around him seemed to disappear.
For the first seconds, the boy stood rooted to the spot - he didn't know how to react to this, his thoughts were confused, and his head seemed to not cope with what was happening. It was so unexpected that he even forgot to breathe for a second. But as soon as the kiss became more intense, his mind seemed to be freed. He began to understand that this was not just an impulsive gesture, but something more - a real feeling, a real desire that she had probably been hiding all this time.
Only a few seconds passed, but for Jerome they seemed like an eternity. When he finally came to his senses, his body responded to her kiss. He pulled her close, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist. His lips left hers for a moment to catch his breath, but they were back immediately, and now he was kissing her with the same passion she had for him.
This kiss was not just a gesture - it was a confession. She kissed him, and he kissed her back, experiencing everything he had hidden inside himself for the past weeks, all those feelings that he could not break out. In her touch, he felt not only passion, but also warmth that warmed his soul, cleansed him of pain and fear.
Her fingers slid down his neck, and Jerome felt his heart begin to beat faster. It was almost like a physical reaction to her touch, and he suddenly realized that everything that had happened up until that moment-all his worries, his inner torments, his fears, his insecurities-had simply dissolved into thin air, carried away by her gentle touch.
Jerome pressed himself against her, feeling the warmth of her body. He was almost shocked at how easily he forgot about everything that had tormented him before. She stood before him, so close, so real, that his mind could not process all the emotions that took over. It was not just desire, it was a real feeling, something much deeper, something that he had long hidden from himself.
The world around them seemed to freeze. The wind that had been whistling in their ears died down. They both stood there, pressed against each other, and in that moment, Jerome realized that he found something more in her than just a mission partner or someone he was forced to spend time with. He felt that she had become something important in his life, and despite their complicated and tense history, this moment was the clearest and most real of all.
He looked into her eyes and saw what he had been looking for, not just mischievous amusement or innocent curiosity, but a real understanding that seemed to connect them. It was more than he could have imagined.
"Delia..." his voice was quiet, almost like a whisper, when he was finally able to break out of this state, when his heart was still pounding wildly in his chest.
"Yes?" she answered, not taking her eyes off him, her lips twitching slightly at the corners in a slight smile, as if waiting for his words, but in no hurry to say them.
He didn't know what to say, because he himself was overcome with excitement and a feeling that he had long tried to suppress. All he could do was hug her even tighter and then say:
"You're important to me. I... I didn't even know it before. And now I can't just forget about you."
Her fingers, which had been touching his neck until now, tightened slightly, as if she were seeking comfort, reassurance in this contact. Her breathing became a little deeper, and her gaze became even more serious.
"Jerome..." She took a step back, but her hand didn't leave his body. "I didn't understand a lot of things either, but now... I feel like we shouldn't hide our feelings. That's all we have."
Her words, so softly spoken yet so sincere, made Jerome feel his emotions starting to bubble up, not knowing how to stop.
He paused a moment longer, then slowly leaned toward her and, for the first time in a long time, allowed himself to forget about what was happening around him. His lips touched hers again, and in that moment, it seemed like the whole world disappeared. There were only the two of them, in this moment that seemed both new and long-awaited.
She kissed him back, and in her arms, Jerome felt all the tension inside him melt away. It was unexpected, but at the same time, so natural. They were more than just fellow travelers on this journey. This was a new stage, and there was no room for doubt.
When their lips finally parted, Delia looked at Jerome with a small, almost invisible smile. There was a surprising softness in her eyes, as if they had both just experienced something important and overwhelming. There was everything in that look - joy, confusion, and perhaps even fear that their feelings would not be perceived as they intended.
But at that moment the cabin door opened and Jo appeared on the threshold. Delia and Jerome, both at the same moment, instinctively drew back from each other, as if caught unawares. Jerome felt awkward, and Delia ran her hand through her hair in a hurry, as if trying to hide her confusion.
Jo looked at them both carefully, her gaze did not reveal the slightest sign of severity. On the contrary, the agent's face was absolutely calm, even with a slight hint of ironic fatigue. She did not say a word, only slightly raised an eyebrow, as if asking: What was that?
Delia, still slightly embarrassed, looked at Jerome, then at Jo, and, feeling the need to justify herself, began to speak quickly:
"We just..." She trailed off, unsure of what to say. It was too personal to explain in words, especially in front of Jo. But it seemed like her eyes were understanding the situation much more easily than they seemed.
Jo, without saying a word, just shook her head, as if understanding everything, and sat down on the sofa. Her behavior did not show any condemnation, and although there was no smile on her face, the expression in her eyes was not stern, but rather tired. It was clear that the day had been hard, and the mission was tense. At some point, Jo even seemed a little relaxed, as if she had already gotten used to what was happening around her, and was now simply observing them.
"If you don't mind, I'll leave you two alone," she said calmly, picking up the tablet and checking its contents without looking up.
Jerome, feeling a slight tension in the air, was a little confused. He didn't know how Jo would react if he said something wrong, how she would perceive what had happened between him and Delia, although it seemed that Jo had already understood a lot. He didn't want their little embarrassment to become a reason for unnecessary conversations.
"No, no," he said quickly, getting up from his seat and moving toward her. "We were just waiting for you to arrive. It's time for bed, after all."
Jo glanced at him, her eyes tired but with more than just worry in them. Perhaps an understanding that the tension between them was meaningless. She nodded, and without waiting for Jerome to say anything else, she returned to her tablet.
"Okay," she said, "just remember that tomorrow is another stage. We need to be prepared."
Jerome felt the tension ease, and although Jo hadn't expressed any feelings about what had happened, he knew she understood. No matter how much they hid their emotions, their relationship was complicated, and Jo, despite her strict role, was still human. And humans, no matter how objective they tried to be, always felt something.
Delia, sitting silently on the bed, also looked tired, but her eyes still sparkled with some inner light. Jerome approached her, but this time he didn't know what to say. He didn't know how to express what he felt, and it seemed that Delia was in no hurry to talk either. Instead of words, she simply stretched and smiled weakly.
"You're right, Jerome," she said quietly, "sometimes it's easiest to just keep quiet. And not look for meaning where there is none."
Jerome nodded and sat down next to her. Their relationship was complicated, that much was obvious, but at this moment, when everything around them seemed so uncertain, silence was the only language they had in common.
A few minutes passed, and Jo looked up again, her tired eyes slightly blurry, as if she hadn't quite managed to come back to reality after a stressful day. She said something, but her voice was tired and almost unintelligible, as if the words were struggling to come out of her mouth, and her mind was wandering somewhere far away.
Jerome watched her as she lowered her head again, slightly shaken by her own exhaustion. Within seconds, her breathing had become even and calm. Soon, Jo was snoring loudly.
Delia sighed softly, her gaze still fixed on Jo, who was now sitting on the couch, her legs stretched out carefree. Jerome noticed the corners of her lips twitching slightly as she tried to hide her fatigue behind that soft sigh. Was it hard for her too? She was always so energetic, as if she never got tired. But it seemed that even she couldn't help but succumb to these moments of silence.
Jerome leaned his back against the wall, his hands resting on his knees. He felt again the strange yet calming effect this moment was having on him. The complete silence, broken only by the light breathing of Jo, who was still snoring, seemed to pull the tension out of his body. He pushed all thoughts aside, allowing himself to simply be here, in this room, in this moment, without thinking about what would happen tomorrow.
As the minutes dragged on, he felt the air around him gradually soften, as if the whole environment-the dimness of the cabin and the gentle rocking of the ship-was about to create a space in which he could simply exist. And suddenly he realized that he hadn't felt this feeling in a long time-the sensation of a complete stop, when it didn't matter what had happened before, and it didn't matter what would happen later.
He glanced at Delia. She wasn't looking at him, but he knew she felt the same way. They both sat in this calm that seemed temporary, yet inevitable. It was as if time had stopped, and nothing else mattered.
After a few minutes, the space around them seemed to shrink, to compress. Delia's gaze met his for a moment, and she smiled slightly. There was something unsettling in her eyes, but also reassuring. Maybe she, like him, was afraid of returning to reality, where everything would be more complicated and louder.
"You know, Jerome..." Her voice was unexpectedly quiet, as if she was afraid to break this moment, "I thought that after all this, I would have more questions. But something has changed. I feel like I understand."
Jerome nodded slightly, unsure of what to say. He didn't know how he felt anymore. Sometimes it was easier not to answer, just to be present in this calm. But Delia continued, as if reassuring herself:
"Maybe I just don't want to complicate things. Life gives us too many challenges as it is. Why not give yourself a chance to just... live?"
She said it with such calm that Jerome felt his heart calm down, as if her words had brought him back to reality, but not the one he had encountered before, but a reality where he could simply be.
"Sometimes everything seems too complicated, yes," he replied, surprised at how easy it was to say. "But what if everything really was simple... if there weren't all these 'whys' and 'what fors'?"
Delia looked at him, as if noticing for the first time that he was saying something important. She tilted her head slightly to the side, her gaze softening.
"Then perhaps we would all be calmer," she whispered.
After these words, the tension that had been hanging between them gradually disappeared. Jerome felt his body relax, and how everything around him, in this small, cozy room, became so familiar, calm and almost magical.
Delia, seeing that Jerome had fallen silent, closed her eyes too. The small sigh she let out seemed to confirm that she, too, was tired. But the tiredness was not from the physical exertion, but from all the thoughts, worries, and questions that remained unanswered. Perhaps they were all just an illusion that they both once believed in.
She sat next to him, barely moving, and her breathing became even and quiet. With each inhalation and exhalation, she seemed to release a weight. And there was no awkwardness in this silence. On the contrary, it became something calming, something that connected them without requiring words. There was no need to explain why it was so important to be together. There was no need to explain why they both understood each other without words.
Jerome closed his eyes too. He allowed himself to sink into the silence and simply be in the moment. The gentle rocking of the ship, Jo's soft breathing, her calm movements on the couch-all of it created an atmosphere in which to forget. Forget about the world outside the cabin, forget about what had to be done tomorrow, forget about everything that had bothered him before. This moment was important not because it promised some revelation, but because it brought peace. Just peace. Calm. Inner harmony.
Maybe this was what he had been missing all these days. The eternal chase for something that never came. And now, finally, he managed to stop. He didn't know how long they sat like that, but when he opened his eyes, his gaze met Delia's. She, too, lifted her head slightly, and their eyes met for a moment. There was no need to say anything, everything had been said before.
"Do you feel it?" she asked quietly, as if deciding that she could now speak.
Jerome smiled slightly and nodded. He didn't know if it was some sense of peace, or simply the importance of the moment they shared. But he felt that things would be different now. He felt that this silence was not simply leaving. It was filling him. Filling him not literally, but as something deeper and more meaningful.
"Yes," he answered, his voice soft, almost inaudible. "It's like... a moment for us."
Delia tilted her head slightly, and her gaze became soft. She did not answer immediately. Instead, she closed her eyes again, immersing herself in this silence. And Jerome realized that she understood him without words.
Their breaths merged into one, as if the whole world was concentrated in this small space, in this moment they shared. No unnecessary words, no explanations. Just a silence that said more than words could.
Jerome realized that maybe they didn't always have to look for answers. Sometimes the answers came to them, in moments of stillness and silence. And those answers, they were always inside them, they just couldn't hear them until they allowed themselves to be here, in this world, in this moment. With Delia. With Jo.
"Thank you," he whispered, as if he felt he had said what he had to say.
Delia opened her eyes and her gaze met Jerome's, and there was something comforting in them, something unknown before, something warm, like the soft sunlight in the morning mist. The same light was reflected in her own eyes, soft, gentle, as if they had found something important in this silence. She nodded to him, and there was something comforting in the movement. Silently. And then the silence returned. She lowered her eyes and closed them, immersing herself in the world that was around them but did not require words.
Jerome sat next to her, feeling the warmth spreading in his chest. He didn't know what exactly connected them at that moment, but he felt it was something important. It wasn't just silence – it was a moment in which they both found comfort without trying to talk to each other. Everything they had been looking for for so long was here, in this simplicity.
At this time, Jo, sitting on the other sofa, also quietly closed her eyes. She did not interfere. Jerome noticed her calm breathing, light, measured. The agent had long since ceased to show in her appearance the tension that had been there at the beginning of their journey. She was neither strict nor imperious. There was more understanding in her behavior now, and perhaps even respect for what was happening between them.
The minutes dragged on, and each of them sank into their own inner silence, until the world around them became as quiet as they were. Time seemed to slow down, and for a moment, all thoughts, all problems disappeared. The only sound was the music of their breathing, even and soothing.
The silence wrapped around them like a soft blanket, and soon the three of them were engulfed in sleep. Jerome, feeling his body gradually lose tension, let go of the last of the thoughts that were preventing him from being in the moment. He fell asleep without thinking about tomorrow or what was coming next. Instead, he simply allowed himself to surrender to this peace.
Delia, sitting next to him, felt her thoughts dissolving, her body ceasing to resist the night's peace. She trusted the silence and at some point felt her consciousness slipping into oblivion.
Jo, with her hands on her knees, was falling asleep too, feeling how everything she had to do and what she had been through was finally letting go of her. She closed her eyes, and her breathing became even, quiet.
And so they fell asleep, the three of them, not asking for more words from each other, not expecting anything that could disturb this moment. There was something in their shared silence that brought relief, as if each of them, despite their internal struggles and anxieties, had found a piece of peace within themselves.
The morning came quietly, as had been the entire evening before. A light sea breeze penetrated the cabin, but it was not enough to drive away the drowsiness that had gripped the children's bodies, not yet accustomed to the new conditions of life on board. Jo, accustomed to strict routine and discipline, could not allow herself such relaxation. She sat at the table, rolled up her tablet, and looked with slight displeasure at her two charges, peacefully snoring on their beds.
"Get up, children," her voice was firm but not rough.
Delia lifted her head with a heavy sigh, but her eyes immediately closed again, as if the world around her dreams was far more important. Jerome, clutching the pillow in his hands, opened one eye slightly, but seeing Jo's displeased face, gave in and threw off the blanket.
"What is it?" His voice was soporific and a little irritated, but Jo no longer paid attention to his mood.
She knew better than to make them wake up at the last minute.
"Time for breakfast," she said, walking over to the window and pulling back the curtain.
The deck was bright and quiet, but she needed more than just silence. She watched their small boat glide smoothly through the water, feeling how everything around her continued to move, unlike her children, who were still asleep.
Delia rose heavily from the bed and slowly began to pull on her uniform. Jerome, curling his lips, also stood up, but was clearly unhappy about being woken up too early. Jo noticed this and, despite her sternness, could not help but smile slightly. She understood that their work did not always involve comfort and rest, but sternness at such moments was still necessary. There was too much at stake.
"Let's hurry up," her voice became firm again. "Breakfast is waiting for you, don't miss it. And don't forget that you are not tourists on vacation. Look, there are already people walking on deck, you need to be fully prepared for combat."
Delia glanced at her as she stretched, but nodded, feeling the same sense of responsibility. Jerome looked ready to sink back into his sleepy swamp, but Jo reminded him once again that "looking real" was not just a question of appearance, but of their image as high-risk agents. They couldn't afford to relax.
When they were finally ready, Jo led them up to the top deck, where other passengers were already beginning to gather. People in suits and evening gowns, the dim glow of street lights, conversations and laughter-none of it mattered to Jo. She just kept her eyes focused on the situation around her, watching for possible threats.
"Dress uniform!" she reminded them sharply as Jerome, noticing something interesting on the horizon, almost unlaced his boots.
Delia, blushing a little, tidied herself up. The girl was not used to a strict regime, but what can you do - it was part of her mission, a gift for her birthday! Approaching the mirror, Delia quickly fixed her hair, unbuttoning a few buttons on her blouse to ease her breathing a little. In her heart, she knew that Jo was right: she needed to look confident and professional, and not like some random tourist.
"That's better," she muttered under her breath, looking at her reflection in the mirror.
Meanwhile, Jerome stood by the door, pumping his neck as if he was about to go into battle, and all this with obvious irritation on his face. He couldn't understand why he had to pretend to be someone he wasn't every time. All he wanted was freedom, a normal life, without all these obligatory outfits and without any endless tasks.
"Are you ready?" Delia asked, watching him carefully.
Jerome didn't answer right away. He simply looked away and continued buttoning his shirt. There was no determination in his eyes, rather, he was depressed, as if everything that was happening was a burden that he was forced to bear.
"Ready," he answered shortly, standing up and looking at Delia.
He noticed again how gracefully she moved, how easily she dealt with all the external difficulties. But in her gaze he felt something more complex than just ordinary calm. Delia was hiding her restlessness, and it was hard not to notice.
"Is something wrong?" Delia came closer, her voice soft, almost caring.
Jerome shrugged, still unsure of what to say. He didn't want to show his vulnerability, but with each passing day he felt that all these conversations, looks, even moments of loneliness were beginning to weigh on him.
"No... everything is fine," he said, although he himself did not believe these words.
She nodded silently and headed for the door. Jerome had to hurry to keep up. When they reached the deck, Jo was already waiting for them, standing next to the rail. Her stern gaze stopped them immediately, as if she were checking their readiness. It was the look with which she dealt with difficult situations, a look that could make anyone feel a little out of place.
"So, kids, are you ready?" Her voice sounded more tired than usual, but that wasn't an obstacle for her.
"We are ready," Jerome answered with noticeable reluctance, but Delia confirmed with words that seemed more confident.
"It's time to go," Jo said, wasting no time on unnecessary words.
She had long ago learned to value every second, knowing that time was a resource that could not be wasted. There was no room for reflection or stagnation in the life of an agent.
As Jo led them across the deck, Delia walked with restraint, but with each step she felt her tension slowly fading. It was strange-she could focus again, even though her mind, as always, was trying to avoid the essence of what was happening. The mission was becoming more difficult with each passing day, and each step in this alien environment seemed harder. But she knew she couldn't give up. It was impossible to just leave things as they were.
Jerome walked beside her, not forgetting to glance at Delia. He wanted to say something, but what? Questions were spinning in his head, but there were no answers. What was the point of this conversation? Why couldn't they just be normal teenagers, and instead dive into this world filled with dangers and secrets?
As soon as they approached the place where breakfast was already waiting for them, the atmosphere around them immediately changed. The usual bustle, the noise of conversations and the sounds of dishes around them seemed something far away. Jo straightened up, forcing herself to take into her hands all that discipline that she was so proud of. First, she looked at them all, and then nodded affirmatively.
"Okay, we've got that covered," Jo said, clearly not expecting answers. "Now, food and back to business."
It was only when they sat down at the table that Jerome finally managed to relax a little. He picked up the cup, sipping the broth like some kind of salvation. The warm liquid spread down his throat, filling him with a feeling of comfort and even safety - for a few minutes he forgot that they were still on board a cruise ship, and that difficult tasks awaited them ahead. He put the cup aside and took a piece of steak, cutting it with a careful movement of the knife. The meat was perfectly cooked, crispy and slightly browned on the outside, and soft and juicy on the inside. "This is really tasty," he thought with satisfaction, taking another bite. The steak was cool, the salad - even better! This was the moment when you could forget about everything else, just enjoy the taste and the silence around you.
Delia sat opposite him, quietly leaning over her plate, her eyes still full of inexpressible thoughtfulness. She, too, seemed a little relaxed, although her attention seemed still focused on the external situation. Jerome suddenly became curious about what she was thinking. He had seen her quiet tension in the past, and although she tried to appear calm and confident, uncertainty flitted across her face again, like a shadow. But he did not dare speak; too much had happened in their lives recently, and there were too many things that were still unclear.
A silence fell between them, as warm and comfortable as their meal, but also slightly awkward. Jo was glued to her tablet, checking some last minute mission data, and the only sounds in the cabin were the clatter of knives and forks, and the lingering light conversations among the other passengers.
Delia put down her fork and finally looked up to meet Jerome's gaze.
"Do you never think about what will happen next?" she asked suddenly, as if her question was a continuation of some thought she had been carrying on within herself.
Jerome thought for a few seconds, not expecting such a question. He knew that Delia was not one to constantly express her thoughts out loud, and now her question sounded like some kind of revelation, perhaps to herself.
"Of course I think so," he answered, trying not to show his surprise.
He looked into her eyes, sensing that this moment might be more important than either of them thought.
"But," the boy continued, "sometimes I think we're too fixated on what tomorrow will bring. I just... I don't know how it's all going to work out. But if we can just eat and forget for a while, then why not?"
Delia nodded, tilting her head slightly, as if she was searching for something more in his words. Maybe something that would help her understand her own feelings. After a pause, she chuckled.
"You're right, there's no point in wasting time worrying. But sometimes, you know... I want to believe that we're changing something, and not just going with the flow."
Jerome realized that there was more to her words than just thoughts about a mission or a future. He himself often felt that everything they did seemed part of something much larger, and yet it all came down to just another task, with no clear goal on the horizon.
"What do you want to change?" he couldn't help but ask.
Delia paused. She picked at her plate a little longer, as if she were thinking about something important, then slowly looked up at Jerome. He saw her eyes soften for a moment, as if she were about to say something personal, but then froze.
Jerome opened his mouth to repeat his question, but Jo interrupted them. The agent, sitting at the next table, tiredly put down her tablet and looked up. She looked at both of them with a slight expression of displeasure.
"Are you two up to something?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
Delia flinched, as if she had not expected Jo to interrupt her thoughts. Jerome felt a slight disappointment - his already long-troubled thoughts had been driven away by something important at this moment, and now Jo was interfering again. But she did not look stern or severe, rather tired, as always, after a night of inspections and work.
"We just..." Delia began, but Jerome had a hard time even formulating what they were talking about. He decided to just put the topic aside, not wanting to delve into it in front of Jo.
"We were just discussing how our situation had developed," Jerome finished, unable to suppress a small grin. "And you haven't finished your business yet?"
Jo sighed, placing the tablet on the table and leaning on her elbows.
"I always have things to do," she replied. "But that's not the main thing. What's important is that we take risks everywhere, and all this talk about the future won't help us face reality at any moment."
Her words were hard and cold, as usual. But Jerome thought there was a weariness in her voice this time, something more than just professional. Delia, sitting next to him, seemed to respond to her words, but with some distance, as if she was still lost in her thoughts.
It occurred to Jerome that Jo might simply have wanted to change the atmosphere, to stop what could have become an overly personal and sensitive conversation. He couldn't blame her for that-Jo was their mentor, although her coldness had become increasingly noticeable lately.
"Sorry, Jo," he said, looking up. "We didn't mean... anything extra."
"Don't apologize," she replied, her forehead furrowing slightly. "Just think before you start conversations that might distract you."
But despite her severity, Jerome thought it was more defensive than judgmental. She pressed her lips together as if trying to hide her own doubts, and without saying anything more, she went back to her notes.
Delia, who had been looking at her with obvious irritation, now seemed a little calmer. She put down her fork and looked at Jerome with a light, almost imperceptible glance.
"We all take risks, don't we," she said quietly. "But sometimes risk can be what gives us more than we could ever expect."
Jerome felt that her words had a deep meaning. Their conversation was not over, but new questions were already appearing in his head. What exactly did she want to say? Why did this suddenly become so important to her?
He opened his mouth, but fell silent again, realizing that now was not the time for questions. Jo looked up, her gaze serious again, but without severity.
"You're right," she said, nodding. "Sometimes we don't even know what we're willing to do to succeed."
They fell silent, eating the rest of the food, but there was still an invisible line between them, which they did not yet realize, but already felt. Time was passing, and soon they would be on their way again, and every step would be important.
When Jo stood up and headed for the exit, her steps were confident but slightly tired, as if she had long been accustomed to this role of being the one who always had control. Her voice contained only a few official words that left no room for discussion.
Jerome watched her retreating figure, and his inner tension seemed to ease. He wasn't sure what exactly had happened, but he felt something important slipping away, as if with each step she took, the burden was spreading to his own consciousness. He found himself back in that place where everything they had experienced now seemed superfluous, unnecessary. Those conversations, their thoughts about the future, about what lay ahead-all of it suddenly became less significant. What was important now? Perhaps nothing. Or, on the contrary, everything. All at once. But Jerome knew that he had to move on.
Her last words swirled around in his head, and he felt a slow realization dawn. Small conversations like the one they had over dinner were part of something bigger, something subtle, but no less important. It was these conversations that created that moment when, together, without realizing it, they seemed to fill the void with meaning and feeling.
Delia, who was sitting next to him, didn't say a word, but her gaze was filled with some kind of elusive expectation. She looked at Jerome, as if she, too, was aware of something important that remained between them, although it was not voiced out loud.
"Are you thinking about something?" Delia finally broke the silence, her voice was quiet but there was some uncertainty in it, as if she wasn't sure if she should ask.
Jerome shook himself a little, as if coming out of a trance into which the silence and reflection had thrown him.
"Yes, I do," he said, his voice softer than usual. "Everything seems complicated, but at the same time... everything is simplified. We are all here, and each of us plays a role. And sometimes it's not what we say that matters, but what happens when we don't."
Delia nodded, her gaze becoming thoughtful.
"I know what you mean," she said. "You're right. There's more to this than we can understand. But maybe that's the key. Just being in the moment. Not analyzing everything.
Jerome looked at her, his gaze suddenly more attentive. He noticed how she was searching for answers too, how they were both trying to understand what was happening around them. The moment when they could have slipped back into their duties and roles, but instead chose to find common ground, to share experiences that united them.
"Still," he said with a slight grin, "don't you think that all this training, these assignments, are just distracting us from the real things? Maybe we don't even know what's really important."
Delia grinned back, but her smile was calm, not mocking. She looked at Jerome, and there was something in her eyes that he couldn't immediately place-a mixture of concern, understanding, and even a little regret.
"You may be right," she said quietly. "We are all running after something that may not exist. But what can we do? This is our life. And we need to go where we are expected."
Jerome realized that her words were hiding more than just a philosophical outlook on life. They were her own truths-truths she carried within herself but was not always willing to share. He sensed that Delia truly understood that there was much more beneath the surface than they could say in words.
Silence filled the space between them again, but now it didn't feel heavy or awkward. Instead, it felt like a pause in which they could simply be, without pressure, without haste.