CONTAINS CONTENT:
Mild sensual themes, talk, etc.
{{Unedited}}
When Marielle closed the door quietly behind her – noting that it was after eleven and she hardly felt it due to the time difference – she saw Vincent’s straight, sturdy back to her from a chair near the window.
He was like a statue; he didn’t seem real to her in that moment as he stared out into the darkness. “Is he still out there?” she whispered.
“He might be,” Vincent sighed.
“Why is he there?” She ventured.
Vincent’s chest rose and fell. “He’s trying to hear your thoughts,” he said flatly. Fear crawled up her spine – she realized that similar to how Vincent and Chamber could use the same teleporter because they bore the same DNA – this Tundra could hear her thoughts because he also shared DNA with Austin. “Don’t worry,” he said dismissively. “He’s not close enough. He knows I’m watching.” Then he glanced over his shoulder, “Are you finished talking…love?” he asked, sarcasm edging his tone.
“You know,” she whispered.
“Of course, I know.” He paused, “What do you think I am, an idiot?” He scoffed. He rose and turned to her, loosening his tie, and removing it, before setting it aside and pocketing his hands.
“You know that I won’t sleep with him, right? Our… affection doesn’t go much beyond holding his hand.”
Vincent scoffed, and raised a brow as he removed his watch, followed by the studs in his ears, and set them both on the desk. “And letting him hold you intimately, and kiss certain parts of your body, and stare into one another’s eyes as you,” he lost control for a moment, grabbed one of the pillows from the bed and chucked it across the room, “tell each other intimate things through your thoughts.”
“That’s about the gist of it,” she agreed, shamefaced.
When he started again, his tone had shifted to firm, but understanding. “I know that you are deeply conflicted, that you continue to choose me, but that after what I told you earlier you have doubts deep down.” He shook his head, “Well, let me seal more of the deal for you,” he hissed cruelly. “I took that antidote, and left them there to die, yes, and I never even told them that I had it running through my veins. They followed me after Klara discovered that I had done this through deleted files on my computer- to track me down, yes, to hurt me by hurting you… what I didn’t tell you is that they want me now because they want this antidote. I’m the only one who made it successfully and put it into myself. I carried it with me through all of the dimensions so that if I came across you again and you were dying, I could give it to you.”
“And still let everyone else die…” She realized.
He nodded, “If that’s what it meant to keep you safe.” He shook his head, “The problem is that they know. They’re coming for me.” He looked back out the window. “Cory will take me back… chain me to a wall or something, paralyze me somehow, and drain me of this antidote for the rest of my miserable life to make me pay for my sins.” He gave the outside one final glance before he moved away from the window again. “I told you… I’ve done horrible things for my own happiness. I probably deserve whatever it is he has in store for me.” She sat on the bed. “And he will absolutely torment you, and let Tundra torment you to make sure that I suffer.” She took in a sharp breath remembering Cory’s words to her in her dream state – “Actually, I told him he could have you. Well…for a little while anyway. You want to know who I’m talking about.” She gasped, and put her fingertips to her mouth. Tundra… Cory had told Tundra that he could have her.
Vincent breathed in deeply, and let it all out, then he lifted his arms and dropped them against his legs, “What I also didn’t tell you is that the only reason that they’re here, now is because of me. There are other dimensions, Masin. They could have gone to any of them to try and take you.”
Her trembling fingertips danced on her lips for a moment in thought, “they just want to punish you,” she realized, quietly.
“Oui. This is all about making me pay for what I did to Cory.” She was silent, tears streaming down her pale face. “They were never supposed to be here. I figured that they were years away from understanding the technology. Cory is smart, he obviously worked it out,” Vincent scoffed. “He has them all under his thumb, whether by fear, or lies, I don’t know. Not all of them wanted to follow him,” he sighed. “Many do out of fear. He probably told them all that I have this cure running through my veins and that he’d give it to them if they came after and caught me.” Vincent cussed several times in French. “They’re a little more cultish than they are here in their following. They act like Cory is a god, and he thinks that he is one,” he said under his breath. “So, there you have it. I have no more secrets about what I did or didn’t do to tell.”
There was a long, uncomfortable silence. “You’re a villain,” she said shaking, and squeezing her center. “Yo-”
“No, Masin. I am crazy in love with you.” He took a powerful step towards her, “I wanted to protect you from these bastards, including Austin… and I made a lot of very bad, grief filled decisions that I am trying to correct, now. The first being to protect you and love you through,” he flung a hand towards Austin’s room, “whatever this is until we’re done.” He leaned over her, “You are my wife… mine. Until you pass you are my responsibility.”
“I didn’t marry you, Vincent,” she sighed. He growled, and stood, running his fingers through his hair. The full weight of the world pressing down on him in those actions. She was silent for a moment, bitter tears stinging her eyes again, “What did you think was going to happen when you did everything that you’ve done to come to me, and then keep it from me for so lon-”
“I don’t know, Masin!” He barked, she jumped. Then he took a deep breath in, and let it out slowly, “I don’t know,” he said calmly, sadly, frustratedly. “All I know is how much I love you.” He paced for a moment. “Think about this from my perspective; now, I have to stand by and watch you fall in love with-” his voice boomed at this, “the one man that I have fought to protect you from!”
“You don’t seem to have any problems entrusting Austin with the protection of my body!” She yelled back.
He looked towards the door, aware that their voices were probably carrying and raised a hand a little to signal quiet. “Your heart, then, Masin. I know that he’ll keep you physically safe. But I can’t protect your heart if you won’t let me.”
“Maybe I don’t need your protection!” She bit back.
“Maybe you don’t know that you do,” he said darkly. “You were addicted to him in my dimension, Masin. You put up with his cheating, his abuse for over two years and he just got darker and darker… Worse. I can’t tell you what he is now. He’s not even…-” his voice trailed off. “There is no Austin in there,” he shook his head, biting his bottom lip in, apparently afraid to continue. He paused. “Maybe you don’t know that you need my protection.”
She stood, strong against him, “Or maybe that is your mistake,” she sniped. He looked at her curiously as he pushed his glasses back up his nose. “All that you know,” she repeated him from a minute ago, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. “You don’t really know me.”
“I do know you. I think that I’ve proven that, repeatedly.”
She sighed, and came close to him, gently lifting her hand and placing it over his heartbeat. “This says my name,” she whispered, her fingers gently drumming his chest. He put his fingers over hers, and squeezed. Then she took his hand and put it to her heart, “I’m not sure what this says.” She dropped her hand from him. “Things like doubles… and doppelgangers-” she stood back and put her fingertips to her temples, “we’re not trained in any of it, Vincent.” She looked down, sadly. “And it could confuse the smartest, most intelligent, most scientific person in the entire world,” she continued. “You seduced me, you knew what you were doing, didn’t you?”
He looked down, between them and raised an eyebrow, waiting for the punchline. “Yes.”
“You drove me mad, made me beg for you,” she whimpered.
“Yes.”
“You confused me.” She took in a shaky breath, “you- you even know more English than you let on, don’t you? To make me feel closer to you.”
“Are you leaving me, Masin?” he asked, dejectedly.
A pause. She didn’t know why, but that question caused her heart to race with anxiety. She couldn’t, not now. She loved him. “No.” She sighed, heavily. His eyes closed briefly in relief. “But, what would you do if I did?” She pressed.
“I told you…nothing. I started all of this, my intention is to finish it,” he replied, his expression twitching a little. “Whether you are by my side, or at s-someone else’s.” He couldn’t bring himself to say Austin’s.
His sincerity shook her, and confused her further. Again, she put her fingertips to her temples, and leaned over her knees, trying to rub away the frustration and pain that was causing her head to hurt.
He sat down beside her, and leaned over her lap, his right hand on her left side, his mouth lingering near the right side of her chin as he looked at her, desperately. She hated that she understood him and his motivations.
As she read him, she understood his confusion, his desperation and she asked herself in her silence if she could say that she would have done any better. The answer eluded her, but she knew that she would have been so horribly confused and grief stricken that she certainly would have made several horrible mistakes as well. “I was confused… you have to give me that. Things like extreme grief, and overwhelming sadness can do this to you.” He groaned, and looked down for a moment. “But it doesn’t change my feelings for you or my plans for us. I still love you…” He paused, “you’re falling in love with Austin. I knew this was a possibility, I have always known that it was…”
This was when their first meeting echoed in her mind… he did know, didn’t he? When he’d first spoken to her in the interrogation room, one of the first things that he had asked
“Is there a man here…A man…like you?”
“No, there isn’t. Would you rather speak to a man?”
“No.”
Vincent continued, “I also know because of what you did in my home dimension that you can be in love with two people at once.” He put his cheek to her chest, listening to her heart pound. “The real question is who will you decide for. Who will you stay with and choose to love? I choose you, Masin- as long as I live, it will always be you. Until the day that I am dead, or you don’t want me anymore. Then I will quietly disappear, but not until after I finish this and make sure that you are safe from them,” he explained, lifting his gaze back to hers, and he planted a delicate, feather like kiss on her lips. She looked down, sadly. Tears welling her eyes again. “Everyone is confused, Masin. It’s understandable. All of this would be enough to drive almost anyone mad…” He sighed, sadly, “And now we’ve lost Tala… That was never in the cards.” He closed his eyes tightly, regret filling his expression.
Then he looked into her big green orbs. He saw love there, so he dared his chest and upper half a little closer, pressing against her and holding her fully. His big arms made her disappear and in that moment something else occurred to her that she felt was about to become a fight… he made her disappear. She didn’t want to disappear, she wanted to be an equal; she wanted to stand out. She wanted to ride or die with someone… oh… She looked away for a moment.
“Did you lie to me when we were married?” she whispered.
He paused. “Yes,” it barely came out.
“You know that I know when you’re lying to me, right?”
“I do.”
“Then why do you do it?” She cried softly.
He squeezed her. “To protect me? To protect you? To protect Austin? To be the only guy in the room with all the cards. I don’t know, Masin, why does anybody lie?”
She swallowed hard and waited a beat, afraid to ask the next question. “Will you ever stop?”
“I don’t know.” He rocked her a little.
“Are we done?” She asked distantly.
He nodded, pulling back to look down at her, “So, we’ve fought,” he said flatly. He was rolling up the other sleeve and she bit her lip at this action. “Pretty intensely…” he noted, lifting a brow at her. He took hold of her chin, and forced her to look at him, “Do I take my anger and frustration out on your body, Masin?” He asked, then he leaned in and bit her bottom lip, gently sucking. “Do you want me to?” He whispered lingering there.
“I always want you to, Vincent. The answer is always yes.” He bent, kissing the fleshy area just below her jawline and she ached for him. She ran her nails through his hair and across his scalp, and he moaned against her neck. “Always,” she groaned in a sultry tone, needing every bit of him, her chest rising and falling.
She had no idea why, but knowing that he was dangerous and maybe a little evil at heart made her want him more sometimes. Austin was right… her weakness was dangerous, mysterious men. “But you can’t just heal me by making love to me, you know? You can’t just make me choose you,” she whispered, her head rolling back.
“No… I know that. But some part of me always believed that I could. I wanted to heal you with my love the moment that I met you.” He stood in front of her, and lifted his right hand, putting his fingers around her neck, and gently squeezing; reminding her who was in control. “I wanted to protect you, and make you mine.” A soft, salacious smile spread across his thin mouth, “I can’t heal you, or make you choose me. But I can try,” he dared, and he gently pressed her back against the mattress.
***
A woman stumbled out of the Valorant foyer in tall high heeled boots that he’d heard against the concrete long before he ever saw her.
The noise overpowered the loud music inside. What was it now? Celebrate good times, come on? He wasn’t listening. Now, all of his focus was on her.
Chamber had returned to his home dimension a few hours ago, and Vincent had found himself feeling out of place at the party, so he’d come out to the fountain to sit, sip his drink and take in the cool, October night air.
She wandered to the fountain and stared at the statue that was pouring water from a jug in the middle of it.
Vincent looked up away from his rough sketch and the book in his lap, and careened his head, watching her. Apparently, she hadn’t seen him yet.
Setting his sketchbook on the fountain rim, he took a moment in the cover of darkness to take her in.
She was beautiful, but thick red lipstick disguised the fact that her mouth was luscious and full without it. The moonlight revealed her pale green eyes in the dark through the layers of smudged black makeup. Her long raven hair was pulled back tightly against her head in a cascading ponytail. The dress that she was wearing was so short that it left nothing to the imagination about her shape, the smoothness of her skin, or her body and the plunging neckline matched. Half an inch higher or lower and she’d be downright indecent; and her spiked high heeled boots were making her much taller than she was. Somehow, none of it felt like her.
She was crying, her mascara was running as she wiped away a tear, and tried to clean up, and she attempted to calm her breathing.
He didn’t know her, but his instinct was to comfort her, and dry her tears.
Someone laughed inside and there was the sound of a glass shattering. “Here comes the party!” Tayane had called from the celebration taking place. The woman he was staring at jerked her gaze in the direction of the sound, but there was no one out here except for him and her.
He cleared his throat, deciding to announce his presence and stood. She startled and turned to him. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, trying to hide her tears by wiping them from under her eyes, but her voice betrayed her. “Are you-” she sniffled, and wiped her face once more. “Are you trying to get away from everyone, too?”
He took a few steps towards her, coming around the base of the fountain. “Pardon, mademoiselle.” He pocketed his hands, and tried to portray with a relaxed stance that he was no threat to her. He wanted her to stay and talk to him. Even though she had been crying, he liked her voice. “Are you alright?”
“Me? Oh, yeah. Just…” she waved it all away with a hand; whatever it was.
The music inside shifted from loud party sounds, to cooing voices. He knew this song, and found it oddly appropriate for this moment. It was The Night We Met by Lord Huron.
She forced a soft smile at him, cocking her head curiously, and lifting her shoulder to her chin. “So, why are you out here?” She asked.
He pushed his glasses back up his nose. Generally speaking, he would have never been vulnerable with a woman the way that he was about to be. However, he felt his openness would cause her to be open with him so he continued. “I must admit that I feel a little lost,” he explained with a small chuckle. “I don’t really know anyone.”
Her eyes widened, her entire demeanor changing from demure and sad to desperately, and wonderfully interested in him, “Wait, are you the one who saved Liam?” She took a few excited steps towards him.
He smirked and gave her a small bow, keeping one hand behind his back. “Oui.”
She beamed, her tears vanishing. “Are you French?”
He grinned, catching the faint scent of roses on her. He loved it. “Oui.”
She rolled her hand in the air for a moment as if trying to recall something, “You’re- what’s your name?” She asked, and her gaze made him feel like he was the most important person that she’d ever met. “Can I guess?”
He couldn’t stop a smile, his face brightening. “No guesses.” Again, he gave her a small bow. “I’m Vincent.” He’d extended his right hand. This was when she’d noticed the gold shimmering on the side of his face and on his hands and arms. The moonlight had lit it up for a moment. She took his hand, shaking it firmly with a silent wow on her lovely lips. “May I have the pleasure of knowing your name?”
Her cheeks flushed and he knew then that she liked him. It was in her eyes and her smile; she was attracted to him. He was attracted to her. For him, that had been the beginning of hope for them. “I’m Marielle,” she said with a soft, abashed smile.
“Marielle,” he said tenderly, it was like a prayer on his mouth. Another small bow as he dipped and placed a tender kiss on the back of her hand and he lingered there just long enough to excite her, not make her uncomfortable. She’d shuddered a little, in a good way, but steeled herself. “Let me have this dance?”
“Dance?” She looked around nervously. They were alone, and outside.
He smiled at her adoringly; her apprehension feeding how endearing she was to him in those moments. “A gentleman doesn’t let a lady stand alone and cry at a party,” he explained.
She drew back a bit, “I-” She didn’t want to say the next part, he could tell. “I have a boyfriend,” she explained.
His heart sank, but he didn’t reveal it too much in his expression. He hardened his expression from revealing the heartbreak he’d just gone through. “Is he the reason that you are out here crying all of your make up off?”
She hung her head for a moment. “Yeah,” she whispered, and she didn’t need to say it; Vincent knew it had something to do with infidelity based on her expression.
He stretched out his hand, again and urged her to him to slow dance.
Bewildered and drawn to him, she slowly put her fingers into his. He’d noted that when she did this, she was trembling a little. If he’d been honest with himself, so was he.
He had learned to breathe calmly a long while ago, although internally he’d already felt the pang of love for her and the loss of her in a matter of a few moments. First falling instantly in love with her, then learning that he couldn’t have her due to the bastard who’d caused her tears.
“A man should never ruin a woman’s makeup,” he whispered as he began to sway, “except with love making.”
After he gently put his hand on the small of her back, they slowly rocked back and forth. The feel of her electrified him. He smiled at her, hoping that this very action would lift her spirits.
It seemed to, and for the duration of the song, he held her like she was royalty; simply swaying and moving with her against him. They felt perfect together, and danced well.
He didn’t touch her, or try and make any claims over her; just a simple moonlit dance.
The silence and how their eyes were locked, unblinking, made her a little uneasy, “Do you like water fountains?” She asked, trying to make conversation.
His strong gaze hadn’t left her, once. “It seemed like a good place to hide,” he silently chuckled.
“Do you know anything about this one?” He shook his head. “Would you like me to tell you?”
“You may tell me anything that you want, Marielle,” he said tenderly, “I mean that.”
She narrowed her eyes curiously at him. He was serious; they’d only just met, but he was completely serious. “This is Saint Florian,” she said. Then she paused, perhaps wondering if he’d respond in any particular way. “He is known for stopping a big fire with a single pitcher of water,” she explained with a giggle. She could have been talking about laundry detergent. He didn’t care, he was completely engrossed and invested in her green eyes, and the shape of her mouth, which he desperately wanted to claim. “I don’t think an entire fire can be quenched with a single pitcher of water,” she chuckled. “Do you?”
He shook his head. His voice was so steady, and calm that it rocked her. “Doesn’t seem likely.” They were still gently swaying.
“There was a famous prayer said to him by a man who wished that the fire that was burning down his house would transfer to a neighbor’s house instead,” Marielle laughed nervously.
Vincent felt like he knew that feeling well in this moment. He wished that the fire that was starting inside of him would vanish and go somewhere else. It wouldn’t. No prayer would stop what was already playing in his mind; a lifetime with this woman that he didn’t know, and had instantly developed feelings for. “That is very interesting,” he said, spinning her slowly under his arm, and bringing her back to their original positions. “You can tell me more, if you want,” he added, internally desperate for her to stay with him; he didn’t care why. Then he gave her a soft smile that couldn’t – even if he’d tried, – hide the fact that he’d already fallen in love with her.
She read it. He knew that she did. “Oh, I don’t know much more,” she laughed, apprehensively. Silence again for a few moments. “So… does that hurt?” she asked, gesturing to his tattoos.
He swallowed, “All the time.”
“How did you get them?”
“I did this to myself,” he explained with a soft smile on the side of his mouth.
Her expression was a strange mix of impressed, shock, and approval, “Metal,” she replied, complimenting his stamina for pain.
He grinned, and gestured to one of them with his head, “Actually it’s nanotechnology,” he quipped.
He spun her slowly again, taking in her form and how small she was, and imagining how perfectly she’d fit against his bare chest in the dark.
“Who is your boyfriend?” He asked, raising a brow at her. He was so sturdy, so calm.
She sighed, and looked down between them briefly. “Just some dickhead.” She rolled her eyes back towards the foyer that she’d stumbled out of not four minutes ago, and somehow it seemed like it’d only taken four minutes for the world to spin around more than once. “His name’s Austin.” Vincent hadn’t met him, yet. “He asks too much of me, sometimes, but… we always work through it,” she’d said.
“Do you?” He pressed.
She nodded, “we have a really deep connection.”
“Deep, hmmm?” The ghost of a plotting smile crossed his mouth, “So deep that you are currently in another man’s arms?” He dared. She cocked her head at him. “C’est cela l’amour, tout donner, tout sacrifier sans espoir de retour,” he said. His eyes had not once left her face, her eyes, her lips. “Do you speak French?” he asked.
She nodded, “I am French.” She froze again, and the two simply looked deeply into one another’s eyes. Words passing between them that neither spoke. Words like, you don’t deserve that.
Followed by her, I know. But she would not leave Austin any time soon, and he could see this in those twinkling green discs that captivated him so right now that he couldn’t stop staring.
He felt like it was fate, somehow; what were the chances of meeting a beautiful French woman here, in California? It was fate that she’d managed to walk out into the only place in the whole compound where he was alone at that moment. He had been contemplating Liam’s rescue and what the hell he was doing here with these people.
Without knowing why, she leaned her forehead against his shoulder and silently cried. He closed his eyes, again noting that this was only a moment… and that moment wouldn’t last long. He sensed it’s closing… soon. Kiss her? Tell her that he wanted to know her more? Ask her out anyways? Express love? Pick her up like a bride and carry her off to a room upstairs or to some office at the top of the building so that he could make love to her on a desk? All of the above? He did nothing. She wasn’t his.
He felt like if he could just make love to her, he could heal her somehow and somehow, she’d know that he was hers; now and forever. It was a thought that was completely foreign to him. He wasn’t that “settle down and marry” kind of man. He was cocky. He was a flirt. He was a lover. He’d come out here to have a shot of bourbon on his own, and draw, yes. But to question his actions here with these people.
In truth, Marielle was one of the biggest reasons that he ended up staying at Valorant.
She squeezed his strong arms.
He would have married her right then if she’d asked. He understood none of this, but as she pulled back and looked into his eyes again, he could see his entire future with her in those big, innocent greens. Leave this Austin… I’ll take care of you.
She looked like she could read it.
She took him in, scanning his appearance; obviously trying to understand.
He was a traveler, he was dangerous, he was a bit of a playboy, he was suddenly not a playboy anymore.
Toward the end of the song and their dance, he slowly dipped her over his knee and brought her back up. She was in awe of him, and when the dip was finished, a tear escaped her left eye. Whether it was left over, or she was feeling an emotion that she couldn’t express, he’d never know. He’d never asked her after the fact, but he caught it with the curl of his finger. Then he gently pinched her chin and smiled at her.
She’d realized that they were no longer moving, and that both were merely standing, staring at each other. The song was done and had changed, and they were still as statues. This was the moment that a kiss would occur, had either of them been brave enough to dare it. Neither were.
“Marielle,” came a soft male voice from behind.
She turned to a young man standing in the exit with his hands in his dark suit pockets; his red eye blazing in the darkness. “Austin’s looking for you,” he said. He gave Vincent the once over. Vincent was pocketing his hands, but giving the young man a look that said that he had nothing to hide; he’d done nothing wrong. Oh, he’d wanted to. But he hadn’t, and he promised himself then and there that he would remain that much in control through all of this- whatever this was.
That had been the moment that Austin had stumbled into the picture, obviously tipsy. He crossed the courtyard with big strides, and came up to her, making Vincent invisible. “Masin,” he began, and she turned away from him, trying to conceal her displeasure. He came around to the side she’d given him, leering near her left ear, “Masin, I’ m so sorry,” he said, and Vincent hated that he sounded one hundred percent genuine. “I’m a little drunk, I got carried away.”
“Like you always do?” She growled under her breath wiping another tear away. “Why don’t you go back to talking to Reyna…That seemed like it was working out well for you,” she hissed.
“Hey…” he whispered, gently touching her shoulder, then holding it possessively. Vincent instantly despised how this man acted like he owned Marielle, although he couldn’t understand yet why he was calling her Masin. “Hey, look at me,” he said tenderly, and reluctantly and with a gaze of extreme annoyance, she did and they stared into one another’s eyes silent and still.
Vincent knew in that moment that they were speaking to one another without words. He had no idea how they were doing it, but they absolutely were.
He also hated that as he took Austin in, he knew exactly why winning Marielle over was going to be so difficult.
Vincent wasn’t gay, but he knew an attractive man when he saw one, and while he’d have put himself at a ten, if he was a ten, then this guy was a twenty.
Nextly, he could see the depths of the connection that Marielle had mentioned unfold in front of him.
While Austin wrapped his arms around her, and whispered to her, Vincent noted that she was taking his left hand and pushing her own…through it?
Jealousy and confusion surged through him, but he pushed it aside to glance at the other young man in the suit when he said, “They’re communicating.” His voice was on the softer side and Vincent detected a middle eastern accent of some kind. Vincent nodded despondently and turned to the other young man. He was tall, and handsome, with the physique a scarecrow who had never seen an ounce of sleep in his entire life. Black makeup around his eyes might have been hiding dark circles; one eye was a striking blue, and the other was a bright, glowing red. There were streaks of white at the front of the hair that was hanging in his eyes; from stress, or dyed? Vincent wasn’t sure.
“I gathered that,” Vincent said, turning his gaze back to the other two. Austin was slowly putting his forehead to hers, and they held one another for a moment. “Extraordinary,” he added, his fingers to his chin. He knew he had to say something positive or he’d give himself away.
“Yeah, we don’t know how they do it, either…” the other young man said. Then he shrugged. “Frankly, neither do they.” He turned to Vincent. “I’m Hazal.” He extended his hand to Vincent.
“Vincent,” he replied lifting a brow. He knew instantly that Hazal was mostly good… he knew instantly that there was something off about Austin.
Not off in the sense that he was hiding it…off in the sense that Vincent could tell that something dark was hovering over his head and that Austin didn’t even know about it yet. It was just waiting; feasting on him slowly from the inside… biding its time.
Then the real danger occurred to Vincent- Marielle could sense this thing in Austin, too… she knew it was there… and she thought that she could stop it.
Austin looked Vincent over, and closed the space between the two of them. There was a moment where they stared one another down, but it was fleeting. He put his hand out, “I don’t think we’ve met,” Austin had said. He was trying to hide it, but Vincent could see under Austin’s expression was a vague sense of threat. He was telling Vincent to stay the hell away. “I’m Austin.”
Vincent took his hand firmly, “Vincent.”
“Oh yeah,” Austin said cocking his head slightly, “The guy, the man… the… what did you do?” Vincent couldn’t figure out if any of that was genuine or Austin purposefully trying to get under everyone’s skin.
“He teleported in and saved Liam,” Hazal said with a shy, adoring smile in Vincent’s direction.
Vincent smirked. He already liked Hazal; he knew that they’d be friends.
At that moment, another young man in a dark suit wandered out into the courtyard, hands raised. This young man had long, wavy red hair and he was being trailed by a woman who looked like his sister. “Who said anyone could leave my party?”
“Oh, your party, Cory?” Marielle said with a playful eyeroll in his direction. Vincent noted that Cory briefly eyed Marielle like she was a piece of meat. He tried to hide it, but Vincent caught it all the same.
Austin already had his arms around her front, keeping against his body. The motion was an obvious stab at Vincent… mine.
Cory stopped, and turned to Vincent, “You’re right, so…” he smiled at Vincent, and put his hand out, “The party’s for him,” he added.
Marielle broke briefly away from Austin, who tried to keep her with his hand, “Cory- Cory, don’t tease him,” she pleaded as she put her own hand on Cory’s outstretched wrist, his hand still dangling in the air, waiting for Vincent to meet it.
“Who says I’ m teasing him?”
“He’s not teasing him,” the woman with the big red curls added.
Vincent took this young man’s hand. His handshake left Vincent feeling firm in their relationship. “I’m Cory O’Fallon,” he introduced. Then he gestured to the beautiful woman whose hair was redder than Cory’s and rested on her shoulders in big, loose curls, “this is Finola…” He paused, maybe for dramatic effect, she’d leaned against him like they were lovers. “My sister.”
Vincent never could figure out what was going on between the two of them. Their affection was a bit over the top at times.
“Vincent,” he said again nodding at Finola. This was apparently the night for introductions, but the only one that he cared about- the only one that ever stuck with him was Marielle’s. He forced a smile, feeling a bit annoyed that they’d been interrupted; he wanted to be out there with her, alone. Maybe dare a kiss.
He flicked his gaze to her; he’d lost her. She was all over Austin now. They were apparently talking with their minds, and she was grinning against his mouth.
Cory smiled and gestured outward with both hands, “He saved Liam…” He paused, a smile that was difficult to read spreading across his thin mouth, “We’re going be grateful to you forever.”
***
Marielle jerked awake, drawing the sheets up to her nude chest. She’d been dreaming about Vincent, but moments ago, he’d melted into Austin and a loud knock at the door had taken her out of the dream.
The next thing that she noted was that Vincent had been by the window, staring. Had he been there all night? Maybe. The idea that Tundra had been lurking around out there the night before was not comforting.
Vincent stood, and went to the door, cracking it. Klara was on the other side, she looked at him like was a stranger. It was clear to Marielle; he’d lost her trust, her affection, and her friendship. Neither of them had to say anything, it was in her eyes. If he’d put his tie around her now, it’d be looked at as an act of violation.
Marielle careened her head in the direction.
“I found the specific plant sites,” Klara explained, her eyes wide. “And they’re going to be on the move sometime today… They’re loading up for something.”
Vincent nodded, thanked her, told her to watch them closely, and closed the door after she’d said to get ready.
Marielle had gotten up and gone into the bathroom, where she’d closed the door behind her. Austin was in the shower; she could hear him. She stood for a moment, wondering if he could hear her, or her thoughts.
Then she dared it, drawing the curtain as she stepped into the shower. The water drowned out noise, and throwing a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure Vincent hadn’t entered the room, she gently touched the wall and closed her eyes.
-Austin… can you hear me?
The answer came almost immediately. –Good morning, darling. Wish you were on this side of the wall.
A soft, proud smile spread across her face. She’d managed to initiate their conversation through the barrier, and she wasn’t looking at him, or into his eyes. She inhaled, leaned her back against the wall, and exhaled. He was doing the same; she could sense it; they were back-to-back. He leaned his head back, and also exhaled. –Want to show me? He teased.
She shook her head, blushing wildly and forced her eyes forward so she wouldn’t accidentally do it. –Nope, not doing that. Not even daring it. They both chuckled.
–Oh, Marielle, I missed you in my arms so much last night. His tone was full of real sadness. –It’s so hard knowing that you were in Vincent’s.
-You didn’t hear anything, did you?
-No, I was downstairs with Kirra… A flash of hot jealousy and anger shot through her. -But you just confirmed that you did sleep with him.
She ran some shampoo through her hair and lathered it, pausing. She knew that she had no right to be jealous, but she was. -What were you doing with Kirra?
-She came to talk to me. And just so you understand where I’m at, I’m going to be very honest with you. She paused, waiting for the inevitable Austin Rancor confession that was surely to come. He’d slept with her, hadn’t he? She shouldn’t have left him alone. -I was tempted. She rinsed her hair clean, and waited. -During the conversation, she confessed to liking me and made it pretty clear that I could come back to her room, I knew that she was going to do this, I could tell by the way she looked at me when she asked me to talk. There was a pause and she heard something shift… him putting the soap down, maybe. –She was really distraught, and you and I both know that people who are deeply distraught are sometimes easy to sleep with. Not because they’re weak, they’re just seeking something other than the strong emotion that they’re experiencing. It seemed scummy, even to me. Another pause as he rinsed his hair. -I turned her down, and you know that I’m attracted to her. And I know that… you can’t know any of what I just said is true based simply on what I tell you or reading my mind… so I want to show you. He explained. She paused, understanding what he was trying to say. He wanted to share actual visuals with her. -Do you want to see?
She didn’t answer at first, as she scrubbed her face. Her curiosity pushed her towards the need to know. –Yes, Austin.
-Then focus, darling…
She closed her eyes, and let the cool water run over her body as she let go of all other thoughts.
After a moment of fuzziness in her mind’s eye, she saw Kirra… right, this was from his point of view. Kirra’s green eyes were red and puffy, and she was actively crying as well. “It’s my fault,” she whispered.
“No, it’s not. You tried. Like you said, there was nothing left,” Austin replied. This was odd; what Marielle was seeing was from Austin’s point of view, so it was like his voice was coming from Marielle’s face.
“I can regenerate cells- sometimes I just wish I could create someone a new heart or something.”
He gently took her hand, and rubbed the back of it with his thumb. “I think that’s something that we all wish at times. But, Kirra none of this is your fault. Liam was right,” he explained, being careful with his tone, and wording, “he’s responsible. And Vincent shouldn’t have let her come.” He paused, and sighed, looking down, “I feel at fault as well. Even though Tundra’s not me, and I’m not him, I still feel responsible, you know?”
She nodded, and she clasped her hand over his. He was looking at their hands, and Marielle could tell that this was where he’d started to wrestle with himself a little.
“I don’t want to be alone tonight,” she said, and although her tone was mostly innocent, her intentions were obvious. She looked up at him, guardedly, “I like you; you know?” He did. Marielle heard Austin’s thoughts break into this replay here. -I wanted to, Marielle… I’m not going to lie to you. This was a fight that I wasn’t prepared for. She sweetened the deal for me, too…
Kirra spoke again, “We don’t have to tell anybody. It doesn’t need to go anywhere. I’m not asking for a commitment or something just…”
“Comfort,” he’d cut her off.
She nodded at him, and gave him a small simper. He had nodded. His thoughts again -I was half a second from standing and saying okay when I remembered my promise. So, I kept it.
He turned to her and gave her a soft smile, exhaling all his frustration, “I’m sorry, Kirra. It’s just…” He glanced back at the Queen of hearts staring at him, “not in the cards tonight.”
She sniffled and looked down, obviously embarrassed now. “Is it Marielle?”
He smirked and looked off towards the stairs, then back to her, “Yes. But also no. I’m working towards being a better me.” She nodded her understanding. “I will give you a hug, though,” he urged her into his arms, held her for a moment, and let her go, sending her upstairs alone.
Marielle let the entire scene sink in. The images faded. There was silence for a moment. He turned the water off. She could hear him take the towel off the hook.
-You know you could still come through the wall. He hinted. She grinned and shook her head. -Lock the door, come here for a minute, and let me hold you, then go back. Vincent would never know.
She was still for a moment, thinking on what she’d seen and what he’d done… for her… She was grateful, but didn’t want to talk about it.
-Austin… Today is-
-I know… She imagined him rubbing the towel over his dark hair. -Are you scared, darling?
She wasn’t scared of the battle. -No. Are you?
-No. But, will you have any regrets?
Vincent came into the bathroom then, and internally, Marielle could hear Austin sigh, exasperatedly. He also went silent on his end, not moving to try and hide the fact that he was in the bathroom speaking to her.
Vincent looked in at her, “I don’t want to push, but we have to be ready to go.” She nodded, and turned the water off.
-I know that you can hear Vincent urging me. I’m sorry.
-It’s okay.
Vincent helped her step out, and put a towel around her shoulders, gently rubbing like she was a small child. Austin stayed still on his side. -What’s he doing?
-Helping me dry off.
-Tell him, “thank you, daddy.” See how he reacts.
She tried, but she couldn’t stop herself and ended up snorting. Vincent looked up at her, and everything became clear. He sighed, looked down, finished, and stood.
“Good morning, Austin,” he growled loudly, then glared at Marielle and left her to finish and dress.
Austin chuckled. -Sorry.
-It’s okay. She laughed. -Honestly, while I’m not super scared, I am tense, and that definitely made me feel better.
-I’ve never wanted to make someone laugh and smile so much as you. He continued his list. She could hear him brushing his teeth. He spit. –Seeing joy on your face… does something to me that I can’t explain. I’ve never wanted that. I’ve never wanted to capture every time I see you grinning in pure joy. You were right… I do want pictures of you… smiling your stupid face off. She giggled. -Wearing red for me. She stopped and swallowed, towel drying her hair and fitting a backless shirt on. –When are you gonna wear red for me?
-I thought I was supposed to wear red for you if I was thinking about you, or wanted you… pretty sure we’ve established that I think about you- not sure the red is necessary.
-Nah, nah… it’s changed now. She froze, her heart pounding. -Wear red if you love me.
-Don’t push me, Austin. I don’t love you.
-No, I know. You love Vincent. He paused. -What do you want me to wear today? He asked combing through his jet hair.
-Black.
He smirked as he pulled a black t-shirt over his head, then pulled on a long-sleeved black button up dress shirt, he was already going there long before she requested it. He left it open and gave himself a once over. It didn’t matter how he looked today. Hell, this could be the day he died. But he wanted to look at least a bit good for her; black jeans, black boots, and his pistol strapped to the inside of his shirt. He smiled, buttoning the wrists, and fitting his watch on, then his black gloves. He looked dangerous. He liked it.