“Are you scared?” Oliver whispered quietly.
Finley tried to act brave, but she guessed from the look on Oliver’s face that she couldn’t quite pull it off. “Terrified.” She admitted, “You?”
“Out of my mind with fear,” he grinned, and she believed it, but he was much better at that looking brave thing. “But, we’re doing the right thing here. I know that.”
“We are. Doing the right thing. Yeah, and that’s worth dying for.” Finley added carefully.
“It is.” Oliver agreed, “And there is one more thing you should know about me.”
“Oh?” Finley asked, turning slightly so she could get a better look at his face.
“Yes, but I’m not going to tell you.” Oliver assured him.
“If I should know, then…”
Oliver was already shaking his head, smiling still. “No, I’ve seen this action flick way too many times. If I tell you everything you should know in a big heartfelt confession, then I die dramatically in a big moment in the battle that you were close to saving me but not quite there in order to give a dramatic progression to your story line, and kink in the happiness of winning the battle. You and I are just going to have to make it out of this alive first.”
“But what if that’s not the movie we’re in?” Finley asked, sliding up against his side and pressing her shoulder against his, as if the physical contact might convince him to tell her. “What if you die slowly with me nowhere nearby as you slowly regret that you never told me. Telling me now might save your life.”
“I guess that depends on which of us is the main character of this story,” Oliver teased, “I guess we’ll find out once we know how I die.”
A shiver ran down Finley’s back and Oliver wrapped an arm around her. “How about you don’t die,” She whispered, “and we live in ignorance about who is the main character of our story?”
“Sounds fair to me.” Oliver sighed, checking his watch, “Come on. It’s time to roll out.”