CONTAINS CONTENT:
Mild language, violence, sense of threat. Sensual themes.
{{Unedited}}
When they left the meeting room, they were met with a man somewhere between forty and forty-five. He had dark skin and eyes that were full of experience. He extended his hand to Austin. “Rancor,” he said and Austin took his hand and gave him a strong handshake. “I’m Aaron Falk.”
Austin’s gaze briefly met Marielle’s as if to say, remember… this is all happening. He’s here, I’m leaving. He looked back to Falk. “Austin.”
“I’m sorry about Barbara. It would seem that things are more out of control than we thought.”
In that moment, Austin felt the weight of his decisions. He remembered how Marielle and him sat in front of the fireplace in Italy, and how all that he wanted was to tell the government that he’d died in Kingdom. His chest burned with the knowledge that he could have just done that and never had to worry about any of this again. He didn’t want to do this anymore… he again looked at Marielle. He didn’t want to do any of it without her.
She was saying something to Klara… or maybe it was that he just wanted to stay here and be with her. All he ever wanted was to be with her.
-This is why I never fell in love for real… he projected. Marielle cut her eyes to him. -I knew it would destroy me. Aaron was saying something about briefing for China and Austin nodded, allowing this man to lead the way. -I’ll see you tonight, Marielle.
-I’ll make everyone dinner.
-Can’t wait.
He could. He could wait to have to have dinner with her and Vincent. He was already wishing and praying that she’d sneak out of the bedroom at two in the morning to come be with him, and while his mind was full of sensuous desires; a kiss, his hands roving. He would be equally thrilled if she just sat beside him on the couch and whispered, and talked about everything and nothing at all. He loved when they just talked, which surprised him.
He followed Falk down the hall, and up the elevator to his office.
Marielle didn’t see him for most of the rest of the day and she purposefully stayed away, knowing just how difficult tonight was going to be with the three of them in the same space.
All that Marielle kept thinking after he was out of range was break me, Marielle. She was. She was breaking him. How long? And to what end? It remained to be seen.
Klara smiled at Marielle, cupped her cheek reassuringly, and went to the kitchen with Tayane.
Vincent stood silently behind her. “Why did you decide to put the three of us together in the same place tonight?” she asked him.
He was still, his hands crossed behind his back at the wrists. “Because if Cory wants one of us, then he has to deal with all three of us,” Vincent said, concretely.
That made sense. She turned to him. “Okay, I understand. But please don’t try and make love to me tonight.”
For a moment something flickered across his expression like he might be upset, then he nodded, looking down between them. “Okay, Masin.”
“It’s not that I don’t want you,” she explained, her fingertips grazing his cheek. “It just seems… needlessly cruel to him.” Vincent tucked his lips in and met eyes with her again. His expression was desirous, like he wanted to tell her that he’d whisk her away then and now. She sensed his tension and smiled coyly. “I mean it, Vincent,” she insisted. “If you try anything tonight, I’ll reject you.” The fact that she couldn’t read his mind didn’t always stop the fact that she could read his heart. She dragged her fingers up and into his hair. “Were you really going to go back to your home world and fight to save us?”
“You,” he corrected. There was a pause. “But yes, all of you.” He paused and stroked his chin as if really thinking. “I’m at fault for everything,” he whispered, then he leaned back against the wall near the door and pulled her against him. “I know that now. I’ve done all of this. I am the villain that you once said that I was. I’m done, Marielle. No more. I’ll no longer live that life that you hate so much.” She was looking up into his eyes, searching, trying to find the meanings, trying to wait for the punchline. “I can’t have everything both ways. I have to settle on one or the other. If I must choose, then it’s you.” He looked away for a moment, leaning his head back against the wall. “I’ve spent an agonizing three years without you, I never want to do it again even if it means that we are alone and hiding.”
“What if…” she bit her bottom lip nervous to ask the question. “What if I want to stay here?” For a moment he looked at her like this had something to do with Austin. “Oh, not for Austin, you know that he’s leaving.”
His expression flickered in a way that told her that she’d reassured him with those words. There was a pause as he drew his eyebrows together in thought and pushed his glasses back up. His tattoos shimmered as he turned, then looked back to her; her own silver markings shimmered with him so close. “Marielle, I will stay here with you if you want to stay here.” He let out a long sigh. “I’ll work with Valorant, if it’s what you want. I’ll do this to be with you.” She gave him a soft, sad smile. “Just tell me that you’ll be Marielle Fabron by the end of the year,” he breathed, tipping her chin up to look at him. “I want to make us honest. I want to have children,” he was leaning in, and Marielle was glad that Austin wasn’t around. “I want you to be mine,” he added as he kissed her gently on the mouth. She kissed him back. He ran the pad of his thumb over her cheek as he used the rest of his hand to cup her face. “I caused the confusion in you. I can appreciate that the way you need me to.”
She paused in thought, “Did you… want me to fall in love with Austin?” she pressed.
He let out an exasperated sigh, but his resolve not to lie to her anymore was concrete. “Yes,” he admitted.
“Why?” She narrowed her eyes at him in confusion.
“So you would ultimately pick me.” He leaned the back of his head against the wall behind him. “If you truly loved Austin, but you still picked me, then you really love me. That was my reasoning, and I am well aware now that it was wrong and that it hurt all of us.”
She shook her head at him. “So, you’ve just been using him this whole time?”
“Oui. I’m sorry, Marielle.” He rubbed his bottom lip with his middle finger, “I also just know that he’s the best at what he does and because of that, he can protect you.”
The entire situation made her lightheaded.
Was the light finally dawning on her? Did she realize that Vincent was a villain and that maybe he’d never entirely be good? And what about Chamber? Who was he? Was he also villainous? If Vincent gave up his life, would he be reformed? Would he continue down the path toward redemption?
He said that he had when he had been married to her before. Marielle knew that love had a way of making you do things not only to improve yourself, but for the betterment of the person that you were with. Sacrifice was part of love.
This of course brought her back to Austin. She had no idea where he was at, what he’d fallen into, how much his addiction had taken root again since their affair and her dismissal of him, but she got the feeling that it wasn’t like it was before.
When Vincent kissed her again, and told her that he had to go work in the lab with Klara and Sabine to work on plans for the spike and the teleporters, she told him that she had a meeting with Hazal anyways at eleven thirty.
She did. But she remembered clearly as they parted and she went to her office quietly that Austin had asked her to meet him in the foyer of the office building and when she sat down at her desk, she found herself wondering what that was about. Unbidden, thoughts of Tala, Kirra, and Sasha flooded her mind while she waited for Hazal and as she sat filling out paperwork and scrolling through social media, her eyes filled with tears and she had to put her head down over her arms and cry.
Was Vincent really responsible for all of their deaths? She could see both sides of this coin. He was in a way. In another way, they had all decided to involve themselves, and each of them had been aware of the possibility of danger and death.
Trying to free her mind from the agony of losing her friends, she briefly thought about her and Austin’s birthday, which was in three days. He’d be thirty-three and she’d be thirty-one and she was feeling nervous about her gift for him because he didn’t know… no one knew about the space where she hid things. The space where she’d hidden the jewelry that said Austin’s on the back of the necklace, and inside the bracelet. The space where the rest of Vincent’s money – over four thousand dollars – lay waiting for her to do something with it. The space where she had kept other important or secretive things that she wanted no one to know about. It was a false bottom in the final drawer of her nightstand and in it right now – along with other little secrets – there was a unique card, one that couldn’t be duplicated or purchased. She hadn’t even thought about it much since-
There was a knock.
“Yeah?” She asked.
To her surprise, Han entered and after giving Marielle a weak smile, she sat languidly on the couch.
However, Marielle could tell that despite her attempts at looking chill, her lovely friend was anything but, inside.
“I have a meeting with Hazal soon,” her eyes flashed to her clock, then back to Han. “And I told Austin I’d go meet him for a few minutes before hand, but I can give you a few minutes,” she explained. Then their eyes met. “Are you okay?”
“No,” Han admitted. Then she leaned her elbows over her knees and her head fell down between her shoulders. There was silence for a good long while again as the room became increasingly silent. “I said it in passing, but I wanted to reiterate,-” she met her gaze with Marielle’s again. “-I am sorry about the night at the club. I shouldn’t have interfered. That was your business, not mine and I was wrong.” She snapped her fingers a few times nervously before looking away.
“I forgive you, Han,” Marielle whispered. “I was trying to work out my own feelings anyways… for him.” She admitted.
Han nodded and leaned back against the couch. “I don’t think I’ll ever be okay after we lost…” her voice trailed off. Marielle knew that she meant Tala. Silence crowded the room again like it was alive and ready to eat them both. “Just tell me something,” Han began. Their eyes met once more. “Why are you doing this to him? What are you doing?”
Marielle let out a long sigh, “I can’t,” she replied.
“Not even to me? You know that I don’t tell secrets.” Marielle drummed her lip for a moment in thought. Han was right. “It’s just… I love that man. Not… the way you do,” she raised her hands for a moment. “But, he’s amazing.”
“I know.”
“Then why?” A long pause as Marielle considered. “He’s hurting so much,” Han said shakily.
Marielle stood and glanced out the window. She could see Austin walking across the courtyard to the office building, and breathed out, relieved that he wasn’t nearby; he couldn’t hear them. She turned back to Han. “I’ll tell you. But you must promise me that you will not say, think, or even breathe the wrong way to him about any of this,” she pointed a finger at her. “I mean this, Sunwoo,” she said, emphasizing the seriousness of the situation by using Han’s first name. Han nodded with a large swallow. “You know that I forgive you and have for many things and that I love you, but if you spill this at all, I will not be able to be your friend ever again.”
Han shrugged as if Marielle was saying a million things that she already knew. “Marielle, you can trust me.”
True.
Marielle’s eyes filled with tears and she looked out the window again. Austin was long out of sight. “He’s working some very deep things out,” she began. Then she turned, her fingers curled on the window sill. “I’m certain that you already know some of this; you’re his friend, too.” Han nodded. “He’s not Tundra, but he’s been subconsciously fighting the part of him that wants to go down that path for a long, long time now. Months, maybe even years. He’s perfectly primed for it; he ticks all the boxes and he knows it.” Han looked like she was deeply considering all of this. “He’s not a serial killer, but he fits so closely into all those profiling folders that tell you what serial killers are. He’s a loner, white, mid-thirties, problems with addiction. No father, abused by his devouring mother, she was a prostitute, and-,” Marielle paused as if she was sharing too much. “I won’t give you more information, that’s Austin’s to tell, but she was also some kind of witch or something and not the Glenda the good witch kind.” Han made a disgusted face. “He likes sex… too much…Semi- delusional in his usage of surrogates – and I’ll be clear, here – he’s aware that his delusions are not real, but given the right push, he could lose his grip on reality.” Marielle shook her head and scoffed as if realizing this for the first time, “He even has a birthday in November,” she chuckled ironically. Han looked down. It was a well-known fact that many serial killers were born in the month of November. “Han,” she said going to her friend and sitting by her. “He’s not Tundra,” she repeated. “But he’s afraid that he is, and one of the reasons is because he knows that even if it’s only subconsciously, he’s fighting it.
“So what does that have to do with you?”
“You know that I sense things,” Han nodded at this, urging her to go on. “I sensed – through playing out scenarios with him – that the best way to speed this process up in him was to let him have me for a time, and then let him go and give him no promises about the future. He has to experience the loss, and the emptiness to the extreme. He’ll do one of two things, he’ll work this out and become better for all of it, or…” she couldn’t finish.
“Oh, holy crap,” Han whispered, rubbing her face with her fingertips. “And you think that he’ll become Tundra?”
“That’s the thing, I don’t. Especially not now. Not after we encountered Tundra. But I don’t think that his spiral will be good, and it certainly won’t be something that I can be part of. He’s being molded by his Creator,-” she lifted her hands in mock surrender, “-not me. I am just an instrument at this point.”
“That’s why you wouldn’t sleep with him during your weekend…” Han said distantly as if in thought.
“Yes. The entire point is to put him in a position where he’s alone, and desperate; to bring out the radical thoughts and feelings that will cause him to go one way or the other.” She paused, and sighed heavily. “That, and while Vincent and I never stated that we were exclusive, he did tell me that if I slept with Austin that we were done. I’m not done with Vincent, yet. I still have hope for our relationship. Vincent and I feel more real; more like something that could actually happen. Austin is… I just don’t know that there’s any real future, there.”
“But you continue to be around him.”
Marielle gave her a sad, defeated look. “I’m human. I love him.”
“You love him, but you can’t have him.”
Marielle nodded. “Yeah. But that doesn’t mean that we are romantic anymore. We are friends, we always were. I will say goodbye to him at the end of the year if that’s what the future holds. This isn’t to say that we aren’t struggling with our respective feelings, we are. But we’re stuck, Han… He’s right there,-” she gestured with her head to the wall, “-and he can hear my thoughts sometimes, and I can hear his. There’s no getting out of the struggle until he’s gone.”
Han let out a sigh. “How will you know if he’s changed?”
“I might not,” Marielle replied, tears filling her eyes. “And it doesn’t change the fact that he has to burn before he gets refined.”
“Pressure before the diamond,” Han added, blowing some hair from her face.
“Yes. The point is to make him feel the worst he’s ever felt, and then see what he does with it.”
There was silence and Han nodded before she stood. “I won’t tell him. I won’t even hint at it.”
“Thank you,” Marielle replied.
“I am sorry about that night.”
“I know you are,” Marielle explained drawing her into an embrace that was tight, and reassuring. “I love you, Han,” she added, giving her a small kiss on the cheek.
“I love you, too,” Han said going through the door. “Scarlett,” she heard before it clicked shut.
Marielle smiled softly, then went to her desk, and checked the clock on her computer. For a moment she thought better of going to see Austin, but as usual, she found that she just couldn’t help herself and her legs seemed to move of their own volition.
What the hell. I’m going to see him as a friend.
She got up and wandered out into the courtyard and to the office building foyer where a man who they’d hired eons ago named Tom was at the front desk. He nodded at her and she nodded back noting the melodious sound of music.
Of course, Austin was playing the piano.
For a moment after she crossed into the foyer, she simply stood watching him and doing her best not to have any thoughts so that she could stare for a while without him talking to her or interrupting.
The music crescendoed and bounced off the walls, like she was standing alone in an enormous concert hall. Whatever he was playing; she didn’t recognize it, but it was classical and beautiful. So was he; he was so, so beautiful.
His eyes were closed, and the morning sun was coming into the room causing fractals of light through the arched windows as they danced with bits of dust, maybe some glitter from the previous night’s Halloween party. The light and open area made the space feel liminal and like a palace, or something divine.
He was in a charcoal suit from the earlier funeral, and he was leaning into the music in a way that sounded like crying, even though no words were coming out of his mouth.
She glanced around the room. So much had happened here and in this building in the last few months. Her and Austin’s first dance together was in this very room, not ten feet from where he was sitting now. She and Vincent had been intimate for the first time upstairs… Her eyes fell on the spot – sans table – where Kirra had laid last night. It was bare, and somehow that felt irreverent; like she needed to set down a red rose, or a candle, perhaps.
Finally, Austin stopped and opened his eyes, staring at the keys. -I know you’re there. He turned partially to her. -Even when you’re not speaking, I can feel you.
“No sneaking around for me, huh?” she said, wiping away a tear as she approached and sat on the bench next to him.
The corners of his mouth lifted a little, but sadly. “No.”
“What do I feel like?” She pressed.
He paused as if thinking on this and it reminded him of when they had their weekend and she’d asked him what she tasted like. The answer was you but the deeper, more pressing answer to this question was, “home.” She smiled like a little girl and turned away. “Hiraeth,” he added.
“Hiraeth?” she asked looking to him again.
“It means – longing for a home that never existed in the first place. It speaks of a yearning that can never be fulfilled.”
She swallowed. “Damn me for being so romantic, Austin Rancor?” He said nothing, but his pointer finger on his left hand was gently rubbing his top lip, incessantly dreaming of those kisses that she wondered if he considered wasted now. “What were you playing?”
He lifted an eyebrow, “Sono andati.” He looked to her, “La Bohėme.”
“It’s an opera, right?”
He nodded distantly, his mind filled with the last two times he’d been at the opera. She’d been with him. Their dress, their affection, their laughing, their crying… the ice cube.
She made a little dismissive, but pensive sound.
“I wish I could take you to see it,” he whispered as he leaned over the keys and began to play again. This would never happen now. “You want to fully separate when I leave, right?”
She closed her eyes, but nodded. “Yeah. We’ll be done.”
-Forever, darling?
-Forever.
-I’ll be honest with you… he leaned his head back, his mouth went ajar and he let out a ragged breath as he closed his eyes. -I can’t believe that your intention is to separate us like that… It hurts. It hurts, darling… it’s beyond hurt, it’s… despair.
-I’m not one hundred percent sure that that’s what will happen, but it’s the plan. You said it yourself… we’ve always been best friends who were secretly in love. We can’t continue that way if our lives go the way it looks like they might.
His eyes glittered as his fingertips moved over the keys. “Of course I’ve noticed the ring,” she said, nodding to it.
He swallowed and stopped, raising his open fingers. He’d almost forgotten that it was there. That was being married, wasn’t it? It was so much a part of you that you didn’t even see or feel the ring anymore; it just was. He put his fingers into his shaking palm. “Are you sure you’re not going to just run away with me?”
She sighed and stared at the keys. She wasn’t sure. She wasn’t sure about anything and she had to make some decisions soon; sooner than she wanted to. She let Austin in on none of her thoughts. “The ring?” she asked again. “Did you run off and marry Han?” she whispered, chuckling quietly.
He shook his head as he played another little melody, “I ran off and married you,” he said, flatly, as if it was the most obvious thing ever.
She nodded, knowing deep down that that’s what was going on all along. “A little obsessive, don’t you think?”
He played a few more notes, “No.”
“Oh?”
“You don’t have to marry me, Marielle. I’m just married to you in my mind.”
She observed the ring again. “Did you have that made?” He nodded, his eyes on his fingers as they danced over the white and black. “Are you staying married to me, even after we part?”
He paused, considering. “I’ll stay yours until you make it abundantly clear that the answer is and always will be no.”
A pregnant pause. “I assume that there’s one for me,” she said under her breath as she rubbed her temples.
He nodded, still playing. “There is.”
She couldn’t contain a smile. “Do I get to see it?”
“Not until you want it and your answer is yes.”
Oh gosh, he had it on him now, didn’t he? Feeling a bit embarrassed, she rubbed the side of her neck. “Why did you ask me into here?” she pressed.
“Just this,” he whispered and he continued to play. “I just wanted you to sit with me while I played.”
“Why?”
“I’m heartbroken, lonely, afraid,” he explained. Then he looked to her, ceasing the music. “I need a friend.” She blinked at him a few times.
“You’re admitting to me that you’re afraid?”
“I am afraid,” he stated flatly. “I just lost the only two people who I might have had any sort of romantic interest in outside of you,” he explained.
Both looked down, the name Kirra resting on both of their minds as they tried to push it away so it didn’t hurt so much.
Then she narrowed her eyes at him wondering at the second, and it hurt her. “Oh my goodness, Austin,” she breathed, her fingertips to her mouth. “Freddy died, too, didn’t he?”
“He did, yes,” he whispered. “And I highly suspect, based on a brief interaction that we had, that he was there to see me.”
Trembling, she fought back tears, dropped her hand from her mouth and put her arms around him from the side. “Austin,” she murmured sadly.
-Austin. “Careful what you wish for,” he whispered ironically. They were silent for a moment as he leaned his head against hers. “So, I’m not exactly okay,” he admitted.
-It wasn’t your fault.
-No… it is…
“How do you figure?”
He shrugged a single shoulder. “I’m sick? I was the idiot that wanted to sleep with every third person on the planet. Hell, I don’t even know how I haven’t gotten a disease yet.”
She narrowed her eyes for a moment having never considered this. “Do you test for that?”
“Yeah. I’m clean,” he replied under his breath. Then he met eyes with her again, “I wanted to play with everybody’s heart,” he said, ironically. Then he made a sound that was like he was mocking himself. “ha ha, joke’s on me.”
“You’re not all that bad,” she said with a small shrug of her left shoulder.
“No, I am, Marielle… if only you knew.” He turned to look at her and she could see in his eyes that he was about to say something that he would have rather kept hidden. “I’ve taken people’s virginity… let them think that I’d stick around.” He looked up. “Knowing the whole time that I’d be gone in the morning.” She let out a small gasp that she tried to conceal as a sigh and looked down. “What am I?” He asked, disgust teeming his tone.
“What were you…” she corrected.
Their gaze found one another’s again. “Do you have that much faith in me?”
“More.”
He shook his head, “I mean like Freddy… Freddy knew that we were just screwin’ around, you know? But-” he went distant.
She hugged him again, “it’s all in the past.” She absentmindedly fingered his cheek. “Leave it there,” she whispered and she took her hand away before it got too intimate. “You’re so much different. Don’t do that to yourself.”
“Don’t do what? Tell the truth?” He pressed down on some of the keys, playing a quiet melody again. “I’m a plague.”
“You’re not.”
He turned to her again and placed his hands down on his knees. She wasn’t sure of this action; it looked like he was trying to stop himself from doing something untoward but that wasn’t it. “Just stay with me for a bit, okay? I just want to be with you.”
This was always so difficult. She could read his thoughts, and at times see hints of the visuals that were passing through his mind. He wanted her there, and at his side. He also wanted to lift her, seat her on the piano like she had been in his house that night, and do things to her that were forbidden now.
He looked down, knowing that she could sense or see this, he wasn’t always certain. “Sit with me for a few minutes?” he reiterated. “Just let me play?” He gave her the look of a little boy. “I’ll stop with the rest. But you asked.”
She nodded her agreement, unable to argue that. She had asked. “Okay,” she said.
A soft grin crept across his handsome mouth and he continued whatever song or piece he was pouring out. She didn’t recognize this one either.
She listened in awe and adoration of him, and he knew. Neither of them had to have thoughts or words. Those things that they couldn’t say again were echoing off the walls along with his notes.
“I miss you,” he finally said after he stopped playing.
“I’m right here.”
His sad eyes met hers, “I miss you,” he repeated, more seriously. There was a lull as they stared at one another, not blinking. Then he smiled and started to bang out Chopsticks. She giggled and slapped him in the forearm. He stopped and checked his watch. It was after ten thirty. “Feel like ice cream and a game in the training room?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
***
Hazal knocked on the door and Marielle lifted her head; she must have fallen asleep because she’d forgotten what she was thinking about moments ago and time seemed to have shifted.
Hazal entered and looked her over, then leaned on the door after she closed it and crossed her arms over her chest, her black nails tapping her forearm. “Still so afraid,” Hazal said.
Marielle chuckled silently. “Are we here for you or me?”
Hazal sat on the couch. “Perhaps both?” Silence seemed to engulf the room for a moment. “Your feelings about Doctor Rancor have not changed. But now you are more scared.” She leaned back against the cushions, her mismatched eyes intense and focused on Marielle’s face. “It’s Vincent.” Marielle confirmed this in her facial expression. “I sense that. You’re afraid for him, too. And what your future looks like.”
“In some way, I guess.”
Hazal nodded. “I wonder why my double was so close with him.”
“I’m not really sure. I know that the Hazal of the other dimension was a man… I had an encounter with him that was traumatic, and I know that he stopped chasing and trying to hurt me and that that decision was intentional. It was like he cared.”
“He did,” Hazal said concretely. “He was infuriated at being betrayed by maybe who was his best friend. But he loved you.” Hazal yawned and covered her mouth with the back of her fingers. “I apologize. I don’t sleep.”
“I know,” Marielle said compassionately. She stood and slowly went to Hazal. “Do you need to?”
Hazal to her. “It’s been a few days,” she said with a tremulous smile.
“What helps?” Marielle sat down by her, and she dared an arm around Hazal’s shoulder.
Hazal shifted a little uncomfortably, and Marielle’s heart ached as she realized that Hazal was not used to people caring for her at all. She eased almost immediately after Marielle was settled. “Uh, warm milk,” she said with a laugh like that answer was childish. “My father used to sing to me.”
Marielle’s mind lit up. Sing.
-Austin?
-Dar- Marielle?
-Will you do me an incredible favor?
–I will do anything that you ask me to, Marielle.
She smiled at Hazal and grabbed her hand, lifting her from the couch and taking her into Austin’s office.
Austin looked up at the two women and smiled, softly. “What can I help you ladies with?”
Hazal extended her hand and Austin shook it firmly. “Hazal really needs your help,” she said with a grin. He cocked his head at her curiously. “Can you sing her to sleep?”
He flushed a little, but nodded.
The three of them went to the spare rooms on the third floor and Austin proceeded to sing to her in Italian.
Amazingly… the witch found her peace.
***
When Marielle answered the door, both she and Austin stared at one another for a moment, both remembering the last time that he’d passed through that doorway. He’d had her against the wall and was kissing her wildly.
He rubbed his lower back with both hands and cleared his mind. “Smells great,” he complimented, coming in.
She went to the kitchen and then to the stove. “French Onion soup,” she replied with a small chuckle as she checked the pot.
“Wow.”
“She’s an amazing cook, Austin,” Vincent said from the couch.
Austin turned to him and went forward, extending his hand. They shook, firmly and Austin sat, ankle over knee on the left side of the couch, knowing that following Marielle into the kitchen would be awkward.
Now sitting here, he felt like he belonged nowhere. He was sitting three feet from Vincent, after all; he could smell the Frenchman’s cologne and that felt more awkward.
The fireplace was going and the television was turned on to a Formula One race. Austin leaned on his finger, thinking that the best course of action was probably to watch with Vincent and say nothing. But saying nothing quickly felt weird, too.
“I can’t cook for crap,” Austin chuckled.
“Ha, same.” Vincent replied.
Austin thought for a moment, “I remember when I had to look over your charts for weeks. I mean, weeks… I learned so much about you- but, I mean Chamber.”
Vincent rubbed his bottom lip with his finger. “We have a lot in common – Chamber and I – but there are always differences.” Austin breathed out shakily, and Vincent reached over and gave him a strong pat in the right forearm. “It’s okay, brother. I don’t hate you right now.”
Austin nodded, and exhaled relieved.
Felix joined them, jumping up next to Austin and he rubbed the cat’s cheeks, quickly eliciting a rumbling purr. “Hey, buddy. I missed you, man.” Felix was doing a little front paw stomp on Austin’s upper thigh.
Vincent was side glancing him, the cat, his actions. Austin pretended not to notice.
Marielle entered the room, wiping her hands down her gray apron. “Okay, ready,” she said gesturing with her head to the kitchen.
Both Vincent and Austin followed and went to the small table where a salad was prepared at the center, and little pots of French Onion soup sat at the three place settings atop plates.
They sat and ate mostly in silence. Austin caught Vincent glancing at his ring. He glanced at Marielle, Marielle was smiling at Vincent, apparently unaware of his noting the ring at all. “This is very good, love,” Vincent said, taking another spoonful.
“Best I’ve had in a really long time,” Austin said.
Marielle eyed Austin… -Best I’ve had, huh? Think you could shy away from the guided conversation?
-Sorry. I promise it was subconscious.
-Uh huh.
-Can we maybe like- fight later, and eat this delicious food now?
She smiled. Austin lightly cleared his throat, drawing attention to the fact that Vincent was observing them. He probably knew they were talking to each other and he probably always wondered exactly what they were saying. “Austin is trying to reassure me that the soup is divine,” she said, straightening her back.
Austin snickered and shook his head digging into the toasted sour dough on top with his spoon.
“I believe that it’s a recipe from her family’s restaurant?” Vincent asked.
She smiled at him adoringly for knowing that. “Oui.”
They ate most of the rest of the meal in silence and as they were finishing a timer went off and she raised a finger and stood, going to the oven and pulling out some chocolate souffles.
“Get out,” Austin said, salivating.
“You’re both here to protect me, I figured I’d treat you both as well as I could.” She was using oven mitts to move the souffles to plates where she put a scoop of vanilla ice cream next to all three, finishing with a drizzle of butterscotch.
“You outdid yourself. I’ll need to do at least two hundred more pushups to work this off,” Vincent chuckled.
“Do you do the gym? We could make a quick run there?” Austin suggested.
“I’d rather not leave Marielle alone.”
“What if she wanted to come?”
“Oh, that’s true, I’m sorry – do you want to come to the gym, love?”
Marielle shrugged, throwing a glance at the time. It was just past six. “Early enough, I guess we could.”
They sat and ate dessert, and then took two hours – where Austin drove on his own – to the local gym. Austin ran, Vincent did weights, and Marielle did a little of everything before they all showered, came back, and separated, leaving Austin on the couch with a pillow and a heavy throw blanket that was soft after he’d quickly changed into sweats and a t-shirt.
“Feel free to watch TV,” Marielle said with a wave.
“And to keep Felix company,” Vincent gestured to the cat who was already joining him.
-Also feel free to make yourself at home, get water, or a snack. I know that we left at least one of the back-up souffles on the counter if you want more.
-Thank you. He replied tightly. What he wanted to say was I am comfortable because I’m with you.
He stretched back on the couch, arm behind his head, Felix on his chest staring down at him and rubbing his little ears into his collarbone as Austin pet and rubbed him.
Austin waited for the inevitable pain and sounds of love but they never came.
-Thank you, Marielle.
-For?
-Not letting him touch you tonight. Am I correct in assuming that you asked him not to?
-Yes, Austin. I felt that it would have been cruel.
-Thank you so much.
He turned and looked at the fireplace which was slowly dying down. It reminded him of Italy and the way she’d quickly leaned in with the chocolate doughnut frosting and kissed him, and told him that she would never forget how brave and strong and perfect he was.
-You are invaluable and priceless to me and I want you- I need you to stay. She whispered from the bedroom, apparently still zeroed in on his thoughts. Austin closed his eyes, remembering.
He rubbed Felix’s head and he flopped on his chest, partially falling off and getting back up onto Austin with a lick of his black lips; straightening his back like nothing had happened.
Austin smiled at him. “Yeah, I know the feeling,” he whispered to the kitty. “But you have the right idea. One foot in front of the other and act like nothing happened,” he chuckled, silently.
He had no plans of sleeping, so he reached for the remote control, turned the television on, the volume way down, and found a Predator 2 rerun that he watched until the credits rolled. Felix stayed with him the entire time.
***
Vincent wrapped himself around Marielle, but as he’d promised, he didn’t try anything more. Just a tender kiss on her bare shoulder to tell her goodnight. Marielle was wiping away tears. “What is it, love? What can I do?”
“Nothing, I just- I already know Cory’s going to try to hurt me.”
“How?”
“I can feel it. I don’t know how to explain it, but I can.”
Not too long after, she was asleep.
Or was she? She was in her kitchen, and she was putting the rest of the food away that they’d left out from dinner; throwing out excess salad, and wiping out soup dishes.
She turned to her left and spotted the souffle that remained and stuck her finger into it, licking off the chocolate. It was good, she had to give herself credit for that one.
Why was it so dark in there, though? And where was Austin? Had she passed him while he was on the couch? Oh no… she was dreaming, wasn’t she?
A silhouette leered on the wall in front of her, becoming larger and larger as the bearer stood up straight and tall. She knew who that was; she’d recognize his silhouette anywhere.
Whirling, she saw Cory standing in the doorway, light bursting from behind him made him little more than a shadow but she recognized him all the same. She reached for a knife, gripping the handle of one of the sharpest from the block and slipping it out.
“That won’t help you, love.” He shook his head as he crossed from the beams of light billowing from behind him into the kitchen, becoming shadow again until her eyes adjusted and she could make him out. “You know that I’m not really here, right?” He leaned on the wall adjacent to the doorway he’d just walked through. “You’re dreaming, so…” He crossed his arms over his muscular chest and smiled at her warmly. She shuddered, but didn’t show it. “I don’t know how long I have you for.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m around,” he explained. “I don’t exactly have your location, but I’ll figure it out soon enough.”
“You’re in our world?”
“Of course.”
She lifted the tip of the knife a little feeling unprotected, but forcing herself to find some comfort in the fact that she had a weapon in hand.
He staggered toward her like he was trying not to fall over or stumble. It was almost like he was drunk. He hobbled a bit, and revealed his gleaming teeth in the dark.
“You know that I can take you, right?” He jeered, and he grabbed her wrist, forcing it and the knife down. “One delicious bite, I can make you just like me,” he taunted running his tongue over a fang. Another wobbly step, “Do you know how much… irreparable harm you can do in thirty seconds?” he asked, a genuinely beautiful grin spreading over his face. His eyes wandered to her neck. “Such a lovely neck.” He slowly reached around her; his body pressed against her own now and although this was a dream, she could definitely feel every part of him.
He flicked his gaze to meet hers again, “Oh, Marielle, I didn’t mean to kill you. You just have all the answers that I need,” he whispered, and it could have been her imagination, but she thought that she saw tears in his eyes. “I did want you though,” he grinned salaciously, “I don’t mean the way that Austin or Vincent does- I mean for some fun here and there.”
“Heard that you got that,” she growled through gritted teeth, hand still locked around the blade, despite him holding it down and away from him at her side.
He shook his head, grinning. “You know that when you can take whatever you want it’s not as fun,” he said with a heavy sigh. He put a finger into the rest of the souffle and put it into his mouth. “That is delicious,” he said with a smirk. Then he wrapped the fingers on that hand around her neck. “I have a feeling that we just don’t understand each other,” he breathed, unbearably close. He clenched his teeth, speaking through them, “If you think that I enjoy being what I am,-” he began angrily, “-if you think that I like hurting people, and taking revenge…” his facial features softened and a wry, sardonic grin began to spread. “-You’re right,” he whispered. Then he began to try to hold back a snicker. “You’re…so right,” he laughed.
Marielle bolted awake, heaving and clutching the sheets. “Vincent!” She yelped. He sat up, flicking the light on. “He was here! He was here!” He came to her, kneeling beside her on the bed, and putting his hands on both sides of her panicked face. “He was here!” She was screeching.
“Who? Cory?”
“Yes! He was here!” She buried her face in her hands, her entire body convulsing in fear.
“He wasn’t here, Masin…” Vincent brought her to his chest, petting her head. “He wasn’t here, shhh.” Marielle tried to calm herself, pressing her face into Vincent’s chest. “It’s his abilities, Masin. Once he gets into your head, he can make you think that he’s places that he’s not. He’s not here.”
Austin was in the room instantly after that. “I was on watch.” He shook his head. “He’s not here.”
Shaking, Marielle dragged her fingers down her face. “He’s in this world, though.” She looked to both men. “He said he’d know where we were soon.”
Vincent looked to Austin. “Valorant,” Austin realized, and he dashed out of the room to get dressed and head off.