DonatellaRose

An empty plate of pickled eggs sat on the edge of Cullen's desk. Even with a throbbing headache and countless other symptoms, he still insisted on working. Papers and missives were in chaotic piles around him as he flipped a page, not hearing the door to his office creak open when you entered.

"You're about to be swallowed by papers, I'm here to rescue you."

He finally glanced your way, dragging a hand through his slightly messy blonde hair, as if this wasn't the first time he'd repeated the gesture. Sinking back against his desk chair, he wordlessly held out a hand for you.

Depositing the cool mug of water and damp cloths, you perched on the edge of his desk as you laced your fingers with his. Weary eyes met yours as he leaned over to rest his head on your lap.

"Let me borrow your hand for a moment. I just need to rest for a bit. "

Placing his hand over yours, he lightly guided your fingers to massage the area around his eyes. His movements gradually slowed as he drifted off to sleep, further coaxed by the gentle brush of your fingers along his cheek. Leaning down, you pressed a kiss to his forehead before tracing your affectionate vow against his temple. 

"Rest well, my love. I'll be here when you wake."

Palia

Farm animal names: Dawnspur: Astarion, Leon, Wesker, Graves Peki: Caleb, Rafayel, Sylus, Xavier, Zayne Wolpunny: Greyson, Jeremiah, Sullivan, Thomas, Gideon Trufflet: Gale, Halsin, Wyll, Gortash Ormuu: Dante, Jacks, Legend Bumble: Soap, Gaz, Price, Ferris: Carlos, Chris, Luis, Boovar: Cullen, Emmrich, Dorian,

Romanced villagers:

Hassian . Hodari . Jel. Kenyatta. Nai'o. Reth. Subira. Tamala. Tish

Where to find resources:

"Leather jacket, windbreaker or down jacket? Your choice will determine your quality of warmth today. Think about it carefully." 

"Just a windbreaker should be fine. Why?"

"A fiancee's coat is shared property between couples when they go out."

With a casual shrug, Wesker tossed his navy blue windbreaker onto the bench by the door next to where you sat lacing up your boots. He wordlessly knelt before you and dropped a kiss onto your fingers before taking over the movement. Once he was done, he sank back on his heels and glanced up at you.

"It's a one hour train ride to the lake. I've already rented the row boat and it should be full of flowers and a picnic basket of sandwiches and sweets. And before you even ask, yes. My shoulder will be more comfortable than the headrest on the train and you can certainly use it."\

You don't know how they found you, or even why they were after you.

They could be rivals of Onychinus tracking Sylus, stray factions in the Farspace Fleet attempting to remove Caleb from power, bounty hunters after Lumiere, Xander Sciences who swore revenge after Zayne broke his contract, or the various people Rafayel had targeted to get revenge for Lemuria that now wanted their own pound of flesh. 

Most likely it was a combination of all five threats targeting your roommates, with EVER coming after you. 

The air was thick with smoke from protocore weapons being fired, along with more primitive methods like arrows and knives. Xavier gripped your arm tightly, teleporting you towards the others away from a nearby explosion that caused your ears to ring. As soon as you reached the group, Xavier stumbled into Sylus, who quickly ducked his head down and murmured the location of the safe house hidden behind Jeremiah's flower shop. Steeling himself with a shaky inhale, Xavier reached for all of you once more before golden flecks surrounded you to whisk you through time and space. 

It seemed as if you had blinked and the small safe house materialized around you. It was a single room, an old brown couch pushed against the back wall with a worn black blanket slung over the armrest. Other than a round table with a basic first aide kit and countless candles scattered around the room, it was threadbare. The light switch on the wall didn't react to Caleb's impatient flicks, Sylus only responding to the lingering stare with a shrug.

"I still need to upgrade things and add an armory, but this recently acquired safe house will do for the short term."

With a snap of his fingers, Rafayel used his evol to light every candle. Once the room was bathed in a soft golden glow, he helped Xavier sink onto the couch before moving to hover by Zayne who had slid down the wall cradling his arm. 

"Sylus, when did you get this exactly? Just say the word and I can touch up the walls with a fresh coat of paint. "

"Recently acquired as in five minutes ago when I saw three people take hits."

You studied Sylus, the wounds already healing on his arm and the red staining his dark shirt most likely not his own. Moving to rifle through the first aide box alongside him, a twinge in your lower abdomen caused you to suck a pained inhale through your teeth. Cupping your left side, it was probably just a strained muscle.

"Okay, so Sylus you help Caleb and Xavier. I can help Rafayel and Zayne. Then we'll get out of here."

Reaching for the gauze pads, you froze as the fabric felt wet and sticky under your touch. Given how old the building was, some rain had probably come through the ceiling or window. 

It wasn't until you caught sight of a flicker of red on the gauze pad that your blood ran cold. 

At your muttered curse, every head in the room snapped to you. Sylus' nose twitched before his gaze dropped to your side. As your fingers pulled up the hem of your shirt, his eyes narrowed at the deep line from a sharp blade. Evidently in the candlelight, he could make out what you had failed to miss, Your body silently cried for help as waves of pain finally overrode the adrenaline that had carried you through battle. A scowl darkened his features, his voice a low growl.

"On the table. Now."

No sooner had you lifted yourself up to sit on the edge of the table did Sylus promptly guide you to lay back, one hand supporting the back of your neck.

"Sylus, I can barely feel it. It's probably not that bad."

"No, actually it is that bad. Your adrenaline is just giving you a God complex."

Crimson eyes flicked briefly up at you before studying on your wound. The candlelight danced across his focused features as he grabbed a fresh saline bottle. As soon as the salty liquid washed over your skin, you reflectively flinched away at the sting. Evidently this wasn't the gentle formula to promised to reduce the burning sensation upon application based on his firm grip on your hip to keep you still.

"I know, I'm sorry. Bear with it. Just breathe. You're doing well."

The pressure of the gauze pad on your lower left side was enough to steal the breath from your lungs and force your eyes closed. Somehow from across the room, a soft humming managed to slice through your agony as your tense muscles sagged along the table. Cracking one eye open, you glanced over at Rafayel. The source of this soothing siren song feigned innocence as he inspected the frost on the tips of Zayne's hands.

"Lemurian magic."

You huffed through a laugh as Sylus finished tending to your injury before his gaze turned to Caleb across the room. When you tried to sit up, he quickly halted the movement with a firm hand on your shoulder.

"Stay down. I did the best I could, but I'm no doctor. Besides, save your strength. We'll need it to get out of here." 

Meanwhile, Caleb had sagged onto the edge of the couch, his right arm hanging limp by his side as the mechanical arm whirred and beeped countless error messages. As soon as he started the self diagnosis and repair cycle, his brows furrowed as his teeth dug into his lower lip to try to muffle his whimper of pain. Sylus' thumb swept a comforting rhythm on Caleb's left shoulder as he lightly cleaned the dirt and blood away until the metal arm shone silver once more. 

With the repairs finally complete, Caleb flexed the fingers of his right arm. Satisfied everything was in working order, he slid onto the couch before reaching over and pressing his fingers against Xavier's wrist to check his pulse. Though he'd once mentioned the metallic arm could pick up vital signs, you had never seen him do it.

"He's stable, just unconscious."

Sylus passed over an antiseptic wipe fresh from the package which Caleb gently dabbed at the cut on Xavier's cheek. Xavier's nose twitched at the sharp burn in the air from the alcohol pad before he gradually came to. Unfocused blue eyes found Caleb's galactic gaze, a sympathetic smile from Caleb as he ruffled Xavier's blonde hair.

"Good morning sunshine."

"The earth does not say hello."

Xavier's assessing gaze moved around the room, lingering on your bandaged side before honing in on Zayne's hand. Rafayel knelt before the doctor, carefully using a flicker of his fire Evol to melt the ice spreading up Zayne's forearm. With the delicate focused touch usually reserved for a painter's canvas, eventually Zayne's fingers were able to move. With a shaky exhale, Zayne nodded his approval before he gently took Rafayel's arm in his hand.

"Good work Rafayel. Now it's your turn."

"I'm fine."

"Raf, you took an arrow to the bicep."

"If I don't see it, it can't hurt me. Besides, we had more urgent matters to deal with."

Zayne hummed understandingly as he gingerly touched the area where the arrow had pierced him, attempting to determine the best course of action. He reluctantly met Rafayel's gaze, professional regret in his hazel eyes.

"I don't have anesthetic. You'll have to bear with it when I remove the arrow. It will hurt."

A small golden rabbit, made of flickering light, jumped down from Xavier's palm and flitted over to Rafayel to nuzzle against the his cheek, a genuine laugh falling from Rafayel's lips. With Rafayel distracted, Zayne quickly removed the arrow with clinical efficiency. Rafayel didn't even attempt to stifle his cry, doubling over to bury his head in Zayne's shoulder.

Caleb's gentle touch of your shoulder brought you back to the present, his right hand not so subtly checking your vital signs before he helped you off the table.

"How do you feel?"

"Better than I did five minutes ago. So what's the plan? I can resonate with Sylus to sweep the enemies into mist and Xavier to teleport us out? "

The others quietly gathered around you, concerned gazed taking in the sorry state of your group. Zayne finally shook his head with a frown.

"We need to recover. Akso would be compromised, as would any other proper medical facility. "

Sylus cleared his throat, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall as if he had the answers to everyone's problem. 

"We can just go home. Everything is under Skye's name. No one will think twice about the home of a normal fruit vendor."

"If you get scared, you can squeeze my hand."

"Thanks Leon, you know public speaking is my least favorite thing to do."

"I know. Rest here for a bit, take deep breaths."

Leon gently guided you over to the small couch in the meeting room where countless index cards were scattered around you. This wasn't the first time you had given your speech on public safety around bioweapons for the DSO, but you never found yourself less nervous. He reached behind him to grab a plate of food that he'd brought from the cafeteria.

"Do you want to eat something?"

"Depends on what it is?"

"Potato chips sprinkled on top of toast. Do you want a bite? Two if it tastes good?"

With wide eyes, you saw Leon's creation. He seemed quite pleased with what he had found in the college cafeteria, and it may have been all that was left after the unofficial first come, first served mentality of the students. Just as you went to take a bite, a soft cough from across the room caught your attention as the program organizer hovered by the door.

"Sorry. Did I interrupt your meeting? You were so focused that you didn't even hear me open the door and walk in. We'll have to push back your lecture two hours. The space is needed for an exam. But we have meal vouchers for the cafe, they just started with dinner. "

No sooner had the elderly man left you both alone did Leon sink onto the couch beside you. Reaching out to fix your falling headband, he wrapped his arm around you and tugged you into his side.

"Congratulations, you get to lounge on the sofa with me until your growling stomach says otherwise."

With his free hand, he gently massaged your temple before tracing patterns up and down your back. Burying your face in the crook of his neck, you let your eyes flutter closed until your stomach growled loudly and ruined the moment. Leon picked you up, lightly setting you down with a kiss on your forehead.

"Here, hold my hand."

"You're like a hero in fairytales."

"I'm sure he and his princess have the happiest ending."

The university's cafeteria was only a five minute walk away. As soon as you walked through the door, Leon paused, his hand warm on your lower back.

"I'm going to join the line for our food."

"Wait for me. I'll join you."

Leon hesitated before raising his chin slightly to gesture to the side where a boy placed a tray of food in front of a girl who was waiting for him.

"That's what couples do though."

"Why aren't you at the banquet, my beloved?"

"I escaped."

With a sheepish grin, you glanced at Phillip who had easily discovered your hiding spot in the forest. Most likely your fiancee had followed the trail of almond tea and steamed rice cakes with fresh honey, a new dish the kitchen staff had created before yet another banquet. Though you had been attending these gatherings since you could walk, you never found yourself less nervous about countless nobles with their constant judgement.

"Though, I'm glad you were at this one, Phillip. Talking to you makes me feel less nervous?"

Phillip tilted his head to the side as he mulled over your words, sneaking a bite of the rice cake.

"Are you implying I put your mind at ease?"

"That has always been the case."

"Then, my lady, I promise we will be together day and night, going everywhere like inseparable shadows."

A nearby gust of wind sent mist from the lake washing over you both. Phillip promptly tugged a handkerchief from his doublet and gently blotted the water from your cheek. Once you were dry, you took the cloth from him and repeated the gesture, your hand lingering on his cheek.

"Are you cold?"

Phillip's eyes crinkled as he gazed up at you, dropping a kiss to your palm.

"Keep warming me like this and I won't be."

"Don't let textbooks become your entire world. The entire world should be your textbook, yeah?"

When Johnny had been asked to give a base wide presentation on explosives, you were the only one who saw how nervous he truly was. Any spare moment was spent dragging you to an empty room where he gave a practice speech, spending less time buried in his notes and more time making eye contact with each pass.

Today was the day, and the man standing at the front of a classroom full of over 500 people was the picture of a professional. Every soul in the room eagerly filled their notebooks with pearls of wisdom from Johnny's various missions, even you from your spot by the back door jotted down some key points.

As soon as he stopped speaking, thunderous applause rose to meet him along with a standing ovation. Immediately, Johnny was swarmed with eager attendees peppering him with even more questions. While you slowly made your way to the front of the room, he locked on you like a laser sight. Politely excusing himself, he recommended all questions be emailed to him as the room cleared. Finally wrapping his arms around your waist, he rested his chin on your shoulder.

"I noticed you by the back door the whole time, do you need a quiet moment with the professor?"

"You did great, Johnny. I'm not the only one swooning over the guest lecturer. Everyone wants to be your friend now."

"Well, my best friend is right here. Do I even need more?"

He reached around you to the desk, beginning to gather the collection of worksheets he had passed out listing the types of explosives and way to handle them. Studying the unfamiliar notes, you perched on the edge of his desk as you fiddled with a pen. Johnny studied the diagrams before pointing to the first correct answer, a chuckle falling from his lips.

"Somebody wasn't paying attention during class?"

"Maybe I was distracted. Can you teach it again? I'll pay attention this time."

"Show me what you remember."

With a gaze that flicked between the paper and your boyfriend, you spend more time admiring the watchful blue eyes and strong arm wrapped around your shoulders.

"Focus on your work please, we don't like slackers."

The rolled up paper gently smacked your forehead as he tossed you a wink. With a laugh, you glanced back up at him.

'Well, professor, maybe I need some extra tutoring. I promise you'll be compensated well."

Zayne shifted the longbow over his shoulder as he trekked down the gravel path. His village of Rockcrest, aptly named for the mountain range that bordered the town, grew smaller with every step. After picking up the deer tracks by the outskirts of the crop fields, he'd insisted to go out for a hunt, being met with only a minor skeptical glance from the armorer as Zayne's bow was restrung. Having the village chief as a father did work in his favor, no one questioned the future leader.

In Rockcrest, everything had a purpose. It was the only way a village so small could survive. Whatever needed to be done was assigned to anyone without a task to do. Gathering herbs, tending tediously to the crops being coaxed to grow in such harsh terrain, fishing at the sole river or hunting small game like rabbits in the forest, even assisting the healer or armorer with apprentice level tasks. Free time, if it existed, was spent at the tavern or stables.

As Zayne slid down a pebble filled ravine, he was glad he decided to leave his horse behind. His white mare would follow him anywhere, but Lily deserved rest after helping plow their fields last week.

Kneeling in the dust covered rocks, he picked up the trail once more as the hoof prints pivoted when the deer jumped further down the hill. His well worn boots found purchase once more before he nimbly leapt into the narrow valley.

He followed the small stream's winding path into the forest, always mindful of the stories that had once put him to bed. 

When traveling outside the village, be heedful of your surroundings. Dangerous things lurk in the dark, mainly Fae. Mischievous faeries who would evade the truth and bind your soul to them with a skilled twist of their tongue. Animals and villagers would go missing, never to be seen again once the mist of the Fae lands had swallowed them whole to end up as a monster's meal. Your only hope against a Fae's enticing presence was a blade of iron and a prayer that you could strike true before fangs tore into you, razor sharp wings slicing the air as you were carried away never to be seen again.

Zayne was so focused on the faint tracks leading deeper into the trees ahead that he didn't hear the faint flap of wings or see the stirring leaves from the gust before a hand was tangled in his black hair, baring his throat with a sharp tug. His heartbeat took off at a sprint as some unseen force pinned his arm to his side, a strong presence brushing his back as pointed teeth grazed his throat.

"That pretty heartbeat of yours. You want me to stop it forever?"

Zayne tensed in the tight grip, slamming his elbow blindly back into the strong body behind him. Whirling to face his attacker, he froze as he spotted the most gorgeous creature he'd ever seen.

Sparkling crimson eyes, long silver hair that flowed down his back, a white coat and matching cape embroidered with various swirls and lettering. With faintly pointed ears and razor sharp teeth, this man could only be a Fae. 

With a steady hand, Zayne drew his dagger and thrust it under the second rib to pierce the heart. The creature disappeared into a swirl of mist, a pained expression visible on those breathtaking features before Zayne was left alone again. 

No sooner had his shoulders relaxed did a genuine laugh float from over his right shoulder. The Fae, or fiend as Zayne was apt to start calling him now, floated off the ground twirling the dagger as if it were a toy with not an injury in sight.

"Cute. If you still have tricks, now is the time to use them mortal. I could use a stretch."

The Fae's teasing words only made Zayne's resolve harden. He strung his bow with a iron tipped arrow, aiming right at the point between the Fae's eyes. The crimson eyes that bore into his very soul only crinkled around the corners as the man looming over him moved closer, nearly pressing his forehead against Zayne's weapon.

"Shoot. Or Don't. It's your move. I know what mine will be."

Those red eyes flicked to his throat and it was as if ice had seeped through Zayne's veins. The moment's hesitation cost him dearly, a punishing grip on his wrist causing pain to shoot up his arm, the weapon clattering to the ground before it all went dark.

Zayne stirred with an aching head in a unfamiliar room that smelled only of herbs. Forcing his eyes open, he sat up on the wooden table with a groan, quickly assessing his surroundings. The small room resembled the apothecary of his home village, his makeshift bed being the large table in the center of the room. The shelves lining the room were full of countless plants and tonics that hadn't been touched for quite some time based on the copious amounts of dust on the majority of the jars. The only two that showed signs of use bore faded yellow labels, balsam and salt. Raising his bandaged arm up for inspection, a tentative sniff confirmed that a healing salve had been applied to his wrist. 

"Could that monster have helped me?"

Zayne mumbled to himself as he moved towards an old notebook on the workbench, flipped open to show the steps for healing tonics. An elegant scrawl ran fluidly across the page in neat lines providing measurements. Flipping through countless pages, every sort of salve and tonic existed, some using plants Zayne had never even heard of. On the last page was a small handwritten note, property of Sylus. So his captor had a name. 

"Sylus."

"You know my name, but I don't know yours. Perhaps we should start there."

Zayne flinched, whirling around to see the creature, Sylus, leaning casually aginst the door. He wasn't sure how long the Fae had been standing there, but he had changed out of the white attire from earlier. A red cloak covered a black doublet and matching pants. What was once almost angelic looked like a proper fiend. Zayne cleared his throat before crossing his arms, hiding a wince as he jostled his wrist.

"My name?"

"Yes. it would be proper. How is your arm? May I see it?"

Zayne's features darkened as he leaned back against the table, though Sylus had made no move to approach. 

"It's fine. I don't need your help, Fae."

Sylus huffed a laugh before gliding forward a single step to casually close the distance with an innocent smile that countered the blanketed threat.

"I can tell you are settled on who you believe I am. Would you like me to be that person? I am capable. Then again, I suppose concern for your well being doesn't fit with what you've been told about me. But I invite you to look more closely."

"I only see a monster."

"I am only what you made me, blossom."

Zayne scowled at the pet name, grabbing the nearest glass vial and flinging it at the fiend. Sylus simply dissolved in a swirl of mist with a laugh before reappearing next to him.

"Lucky I don't like picking on the weak, hunter."

"Don't call me that."

"Give me a name."

Zayne hesitated. This was the oldest trick in the book, give a Fae your name and hand them your soul. Sylus pressed forward, tipping Zayne's chin upwards with his finger.

"If I wanted to take your life, I could have done so. As for your soul, if you really believe the stories, why would I want something so bland and tasteless? Name. Now."

"Zayne."

It was as if some unseen thread had coiled around him, tugging the requested information free. Or perhaps Zayne had surrendered it willingly. He wasn't sure. But from the satisfied smirk on Sylus' face as those crimson eyes flicked over him once more, it was either a blessing or a curse that the Fae disappeared once more into the mist.

At the start of every day that followed, Zayne tried the door only to find it locked. A notch carved into the wood from his dagger was the only way to mark the passage of time. After one notch, his living quarters became slightly more hospitable after Zayne pressed against a loose panel in the wall and discovered a small bathroom with running water. 

Tired hazel eyes stared back at him from the mirror, dirt still staining his clothing. Flicking a white flower petal from his messy hair, a common species that grew near his village that must have clung to him since the fight, Zayne carefully tended to minor injuries covering his hands.

Nothing made sense. Sylus should have crushed him in the fight, instead seeming to toy with him and almost seek his own demise. Perhaps an immortal being had nothing better to do with years rushing by like grains of sand. But even after Zayne had delivered what should have been a lethal blow, Sylus had been fine as if he could heal himself. Something the stories had left out, or perhaps lied about. 

A flicker of panic caught in Zayne's check before he quickly snuffed it out. With a shake of his head, Zayne steadied his resolve. He would slay this fiend, one way or another.

Three notches had been carved into the door frame, a permanent reminder of the hunter trapped in a Fae's web. But this time, when Zayne tried the handle, the door pushed open. 

Gathering his bow and quiver, he carefully pressed on, taking in the high ceilings and marble flooring. The once pristine walls were now tinted cream with neglect and dust. Either no one had lived in this place for a long time or there was no one left to care for it.

Winding halls with worn curtains were like a maze, but Zayne finally managed to find his way into a sitting room bordering the spacious grounds. Old bookshelves lined the walls, but it was the portrait over the mantle that seemed to serve as the focal point. A young man with dark hair gazing at a figure who looked suspiciously like Sylus. If it were possible for those harsh garnet eyes to soften, the sill life painting captured it well. But there was no time to dwell on art, not when the path to freedom lie ahead through a half open door.

The door seemed to fly open with the slightest touch, refreshing warm air washing over Zayne like a blanket. The unnaturally bright sun made Zayne squint, his injured hand flying up to block the worst of the rays as he averted his eyes. Once his eyes adjusted, he caught sight of a world that seemed entirely different from the dark, dusty rooms before. 

Firefly lanterns lined a stone path winding through butterfly gardens and a berry grove. Trees arched over the walkway, wind chimes and crystal dewdrops dangling from overgrown branches. A throne of petals oversaw a flower grove, wildflowers of every type growing at every turn. It was as if nature itself tried to reclaim the Fae wilds. 

Unable to help himself, Zayne stepped into the garden to inspect blossoms that always brought him joy in the mortal realm. With so many hardships to be faced in the village, he always appreciated any time he could steal in nature. Thyme, foxglove, saffron, rosemary, sweet pea, ferns, white sage, Zayne stopped and admired them all before his gaze landed on the rosebush.

"I didn't know roses could bloom here."

Bending down to smell the soft and delicate fragrance, his eyes narrowed at the bluebells. The legends stated that Fae would sleep in the bell shaped flowers, but Zayne doubted one such as tall as Sylus would spent his free time there. The monster was probably lurking in the shadows waiting for another fight. 

A sudden crack of thunder caused Zayne's hand to fly to his bow, quickly nocking an arrow before drawing it back. The lands that had been filled with sunshine moments before were now gloomy, dark clouds threatening to weep as an unnatural magic seemed to swirl around Zayne before Sylus materialized outside the garden fence. 

"How do you scramble about with dirt on your clothes. Doesn't it bother you? I supposed I shouldn't expect more from riff raff like you, mortal. Regardless, leave, blossom. I don't want you here."

"I won't leave until I've taken your heart."

Zayne's eyes narrowed before he took the initiative, the arrow flying at Sylus' heart. Merely stepping out of the way, Sylus smirked as he studied Zayne. With immortal grace, the Fae seemed to dodge every arrow Zayne pulled from his quiver. The last arrow flew, grazing Sylus' arm most likely because he allowed it. Just as the first droplets of crimson fell to the ground, the skies opened up and drenched them both with frigid rain. With a growl, Zayne tossed his bow to the side and drew his dagger. Apparently some things would have to be resolved up close and personal. 

Every punch or kick Zayne threw that connected to the Fae's slender body drew no hiss of pain from Sylus. The first reaction that flickered in those crimson eyes only occurred when Zayne pressed his dagger against the hollow of his throat and managed to draw a bead of blood. With a huffed laugh, Sylus' gaze focused on the dagger

"Interesting. Now it's my turn."

In the moment, Zayne's back crashed into the stone hedge, Sylus immediately caging him in before razor sharp fangs drove into Zayne's neck. The pain stole his breath, hazel eyes slamming shut as any resistance to push Sylus away was met with an immovable force. The storm picked up, a punishing rain soaking them both to the bone. Zayne's brows furrowed when his knees buckled, the burning pain radiating from the tender spot behind his ear suddenly lessening as the ground came crashing to meet him. Falling to his knees, Zayne cradled his throat, crimson dripping through his hand as his blurry vision focused on Sylus. The Fae only glanced down at him, a mask of indifference on his face before turned on his heel and walked quickly away.

Zayne fell forwards onto his hands, a shuddering exhale mingling with another crack of thunder. He wasn't sure if it was the blood loss or the curtain of freezing rain fall, but in the moments before he passed out, he could have sworn he saw Sylus with wings.

Sylus shivered in the cold rain as he rushed away, wiping the evidence away from his mouth hastily with the back of his hand. His silver wings drooped in the rain as a pained exhale fogged before him. With near silent steps, he moved towards the only place he ever knew peace. A small sanctuary consisting of an old barn and the two occupants. 

Closing the wooden door behind him he slid down it, delicate wings catching on the aged wood as he collapsed to the ground. Tiny thumps and the scuffling of straw from his left made him hold out his hand blindly before the two sets of eyes gazing up at him. A rabbit and a dragon hatching, both only a few months old, competed for his attention before a small rabbit nose pressed against his palm.

"Thistle. Isn't this boldness what got you lost in my forest in the first place?"

Gently scooping up the small white bunny, Sylus gently nuzzled its nose before catching the young dragon who had haphazardly launched it's into Sylus' chest. 

"Gale, your wings won't be like mine for some time. I promise we'll fly together one day."

Sylus tasted the lie, bitter like the hand fate had dealt him. That was the only way to describe the cruel hand fate had thrown at him. A sickness sweeping through the land, once full of Fae songs and laughter now empty as an abyss, leaving him the sole occupant of the aptly names Lost Hollow. His companions had fled to other shores, seeking a cure that may not even exist. No one ever identified the cause of the rashes or the labored breathing. And should the humans so much as catch a whiff of a Fae's weakness, it meant the end of all things. 

And to make matters worse, he'd seen him.

At first glance, the man had been a mere hunter, dark hair and a cold gaze. The fight was merely instinct, take a life or lose your own. Beyond that, it hadn't registered that the mortal shared a name or preferred weapon. Even the universe disapproved of their collective forgotten memories with the most recent soaking rain during their brawl. 

A flicker of guilt radiated from Sylus' chest at failing to recognize his heartmate.

It shouldn't be possible for a Fae's soul to find a home in a human body, and that was a mystery in itself. But it didn't matter how or why, he was here. But, Zayne had no idea who Sylus was, probably loathed him. To an extent, Sylus loathed himself as well. Being so blinded by his grief he had failed to see the obvious, even when the sweet undertone of Zayne's blood had tried to call him home. 

Gale, as if sensing the swirling emotions of his caretaker, bit down on his finger with small dull fangs. Sylus merely arched an eyebrow before lightly tapping the young dragon on the nose.

"The world can be cruel, that doesn't mean we have to be."

With a sigh, Sylus reached behind the hay bale to pull out his journal. Filled with the musings of an aching mind and poetry from a fragmented soul, it had been his only companion for years. Desperate to get all his heartbroken thoughts out, he poured his emotions onto the page. Every glowing memory of Zayne from the past that warmed his heart, even his true feelings that couldn't be broken by years apart quickly filled the front and back of the page. 

With only a sliver of free space left, Sylus jotted down the ending of the poem he and Zayne had read every night as they had strolled around the Fae meadows. A writer by the name of Will who penned many sonnets, well over 57. With a steady hand, the words Sylus had spoken over countless times finished the page. 

So true a fool is love that in your will, Though you do any thing, he thinks no ill.

With a heavy sigh, Sylus tore the page out and let the wind carry it away. Some things were better left unsaid. 

Zayne stirred on the ground, soaked to the skin though the rain had stopped an hour ago. With a groan, he pulled off the wet crumpled paper stuck to his cheek and shakily got to his feet. Though the bleeding had stopped, his neck still throbbed as if a phantom kiss was brushing against it. With any chance of escape dashed while he was weak, he reluctantly returned to the warmth beckoning him from the crackling fireplace in the sitting room

He froze when he spotted Sylus, sitting on the couch and staring up at the portrait of the young couple basked in a golden glow from the fireplace. This time Zayne could make out the faintly pointed ears nearly hidden beneath the back and silver hair of the two men, hazel eyes admiring crimson as if this was a love found only once in twenty lifetimes. 

The handwritten letter seemed to burn hot in Zayne's hand. He'd managed to make out a few phrases from the rain spotted parchment, a couplet at the end tugging at his mind with a sense of deja vu. 

"Maybe we should talk?"

"Have you come to follow through with your promise and take my heart, hunter? "

"I never wanted to be a hunter, or a leader. But that is what everyone asks of me."

Garnet eyes slowly slid over to Zayne, a watchful intrigue as that gaze seemed to pick him apart down to his very soul. Sylus got to his feet, the movement costing him more than it should based on his labored breathing as he held Zayne's gaze.

"What do you want, Zayne?"

"I just want to be happy."

"A noble sentiment." 

Zayne's gaze flicked to the portrait once more before returning to the Fae before him. 

"Sylus, you called me blossom earlier. Why?"

"Fae only have one true weakness. Flowers. You were always mine."

Sylus staggered before collapsing to the ground, the books on the side table spilling across the floor. The buttons on his dark shirt caught on the sharp edge of the table, rolling across the hardwood floor like gemstones as his shirt fell open.

"Sylus?"

Falling to his knees, Zayne's fingers hovered over the red rashes covering Sylus' chest. They almost looked like the flowers from the garden. A sweet pea bloom with its two tone petals rested over his heart, the skin hot to the touch. Sylus groaned softly, reaching for Zayne's cheek before his hand fell limply to the side onto the open pages of a book. Zayne glanced at the drawing in the herbalism book.

"Angel wing? But that is Jasmine."

A wild bloom that was abundant in Rockcrest, no one ever left the village without it due to the supposed properties to ward off the Fae. Zayne kept his collection of petals in a satchel on his belt. Though this tome suggested that the same flowers that were supposed to ruin Fae could ultimately save them. Acting on instinct, Zayne grabbed a handful of petals before frantically shoving them in Sylus' mouth. 

Seconds seemed to stretch into minutes before Sylus finally stirred. Sluggish eyes struggled to focus on him, the half lidded gaze finally locking on and refusing to let go. Zayne's fingers that were absentmindedly carding through Sylus' silver hair paused their movement at the intense devotion reflected in his gaze. 

"Sylus. I don't remember anything. Or you."

"Then we can start over. No pressure. One life with you was more that enough, this is just an encore."

"Deal."

"That's not how Fae form a bond." 

Sylus reached over to grasp Zayne's wrist, bringing his hand closer before pressing a kiss to his palm.

"There. It's signed."

— Rafayel (Dancing, Relax, Tremble)

"Relax, I'm right here."

Rafayel easily spun you, the full skirt of your dress twirling around to graze him as he dipped you once more. While visiting Talia in Verona, Rafayel had spirited you away to a beachfront restaurant for a night that would just belong to the two of you. The classical music in the background set the perfect ambience as he coaxed you outside under the light of the full moon.

"I never would have thought you'd have traded your tail for a pair of dancing feet."

With a soft laugh, his lips grazed a kiss over the tender spot right below your ear before the steady hand at your waist eased you back up to sway with him once more. 

"Did you think I'd make a bargain with a sea witch for three days on land to get you to fall in love with me? Cutie, not every fairy tale is real."

"But you are."

He stilled at your words, reaching out to cup your cheek before lightly nuzzling his nose against yours. The faint tremble in your legs was no longer from the once unsteady high heels, instead the cause could be found swelling in your chest like the tide at dawn. Within a few moments, he had picked you up, cradling you to his chest like a beloved bride as he strolled casually towards the ocean.

"I think I have to ask the sea witch for more time up here so I can be part of your world. Is forever long enough? "

— Zayne (Ice Cream, Massage, Flowers)

After a long and tiring day in the No Hunt zone, you were finally home. Once you had changed into matching snowman pajamas, Zayne tugged you close against his chest on the blanket covered couch. The living room lights were off, replaced by the soft glow from a random movie on the tv. The freshly bloomed jasmine flowers Zayne had surprised you with were already displayed in the vase nearby while a bowl of ice cream, hot chocolate flavored with extra marshmallows and whipped cream on top, sat on the coffee table with two spoons at the ready. 

"Does it still hurt?"

You could almost hear the frown in his voice, see the furrow between his brows as his thumbs massaged careful circles in the base of your already bruising palm from your weapon's sharp recoil. 

"If I say yes, will doctor's orders include cuddling, lots of sweets, and cheesy rom coms?"

"Maybe more like ice, elevation and bedrest."

"It feels fine, it's just a little sore. Maybe bruised."

With your free hand, you reached out and scooped a spoonful that was majority whipped cream before offering it to Zayne. A satisfied hum filled the room as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

"Sweet. Just not as sweet as you."

— Sylus (Wish, Bounty, Yearning)

Your day off was supposed to be spent relaxing with a book or sleeping on the couch under a pile of blankets. Not running through the N109 zone thanks to a bounty on your head when a nosy citizen had caught you sneaking into Sylus' safe house. Though the leader of Onychinus could easily neutralize the threat, he innocently reminded you that just days earlier you had wanted to be stronger and tugged you down a side street at a leisurely jog.

"Sylus, I wish we had one of your bikes. Or I at least had a different pair of shoes, I can't run in these boots. And for the record, I meant training more in the boxing ring, now whatever this is."

A faint tendril of red mist snaked around your waist, tugging you to a stop before you could run into the large chain link fence blocking the way out. With an annoyed huff, you backed up and looked at him expectantly.

"Don't look at me like that, kitten. A Hunter should always be prepared for anything in her path."

Mumbling under your breath about how you wished you had wings, it took five attempts before you finally managed to gain a foothold and climb to the top. Swinging one leg over the top bar, you caught your breath as you smiled triumphantly down at him. 

Just for a moment things stop, as if the N109 zone seemed like a different city from your perch on top of the world. The wistful look of yearning in his eyes wasn't lost on you as he gazed up at you, something just out of reach. As if even one moment without you near was too much, Sylus vanished in a swirl of mist before appearing next to you. 

"I wish people would stop underestimating you. That includes you, sweetie."

— Caleb (Humming, Jeans, Lipstick)

A joyful tune filled the room as you perched on the bathroom counter applying your makeup. Your jeans lay discarded on the floor, a simple black dress more fitting for whatever surprise Caleb had in store for you. He had taken to only leaving you paper planes with the dress code written on a wing along with a date and time. The suggestion for tonight had been black tie. Applying your makeup with a steady hand, you had been so caught up in your own world humming softly that you only noticed him leaning against the doorframe when he sighed softly, a look of pure adoration in his eyes.

"Are you staring at me?"

"I'm gazing. There is a difference."

With a few quick steps his arms wrapped around your waist, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he inhaled the perfume he'd gifted you. With a name like Orchard's Kiss, it was no surprise you smelled of apples and fresh rain whenever you wore it. Pressing a kiss gently behind your ear, he pulled back to study your reflection in the mirror.

"Beautiful."

"You always say that, Caleb."

His gaze shifted to the two lipstick tubes you had set out to potentially use, a shade that matched your lip color or a cool toned ruby red. With a twitch of his finger, the ruby red shade rose into his hand as he guided you to face him. As his free hand cupped your cheek, he carefully applied the lipstick as if he were a painter and you were his masterpiece. One gentle swipe of his thumb under your bottom lip to ensure an even line and he hummed softly.

"It's the truth."

— Xavier (Answer, Nervous, Stars)

Sprawled out on the rooftop curled up against Xavier's chest you watched as he pointed out the constellations in tonight's starry night sky. Ursa Major. Ursa Minor. Cassiopeia. Perseus. Pegasus. Scorpius. Though you squinted, only the concept of the portraits painted in the night sky were visible to you. 

"Xavier, I think I'll just have to take your word for it."

"I can probably teleport up there and trace them all with my Evol?"

He tugged you closer, arms wrapping around your waist at your laugh. When you reached back to cup his cheek, he nuzzled into your palm before a soft kiss pressed the center.

"Maybe if you can't see them, you can tell me about them? Weren't you reading that book about stargazing?"

With a nervous laugh as you thought about your answer, your gaze traced to the group of stars that didn't have a tragic story behind it.

"Pegasus, a winged horse that was on Mount Olympus and used by Zeus to transport thunder and lightening. Everything else is more on the heartbreaking side."

"Perfect. But, you don't need to be nervous. It's just us."

"I know, but these stories are so sad. I think a part of me just wants everyone to live happily ever after."

"We don't always have to follow what is written in the stars. We can make our own choices, like how I will always choose you."

After you left your small town of less than 5,000 people for the bright lights of Linkon, you had never thought that you'd leave the big city. You'd moved away from home for school, studying to become a dermatologist and completing your residency at Linkon Hospital. After two years working full time that would always turn into overtime, you had burned yourself out to the extent that all you did was work or sleep. 

When the email had come through from your childhood doctor that he was looking for a new dermatologist to bring to his family practice, the version of you fresh out of post grad would have deleted the email. 

But times had changed. Within two weeks, you had packed up your life and flown back home. Though, instead of the normal sunny skies that you had been expecting, you were greeted with gloomy clouds and cold sleet on this late autumn day.

After a six hour flight to the closest airport that was an hour away from your hometown, you finally saw the city that raised you on the horizon. The cab dropped you off near the welcome sign per your request, the old cobblestone sidewalk stretching into main street. 

Countless buildings framed the large park in the center of town square. The largest was the library next to the small music store where you had rented instruments in grade school. The ice cream parlor was nestled between the coffee shop and the mom and pop restaurant that had existed since you were ten. Further down the way sat the doctor's office, vet clinic, two hotels and the school where you had met your closest friend. But you had left and he had stayed, falling out of touch as so many long distance friendships do. 

While you were lost in your memories, the wind picked up as the clouds darkened even more. Not a warning was given before the skies opened up, drenching you with freezing rain and sleet. All the buildings were dark and closed for the night. Tugging your red cloak closer, you turned the corner down the side street towards where the tiny shopping district was. 

The general store connected to the department store, flanked to the left by a local jewelry store and the right by a building that had been vacant for most of your childhood. Before you left, it had been renovated into a gym, but now the bulky workout machines no longer shone in the front windows. 

The elegant script across the door read Blue Jasmine Studio, a glimmer of light peeking through black out curtains darkening the large panel windows. With a promise of warmth and sanctuary, you pressed through the front door as a small bell jingled to announce your arrival.

Sparkling white granite flooring greeted you in the low light, the empty receptionist desk a cool frosty blue. Beyond it sat a neat row of chairs next to a tattoo bed. The neatly organized cubes in the back housed various cleaning products and tattoo equipment, everything labeled and in its place. The clanking of bottles in the small storage cabinet meant someone was here, probably the poor employee stuck on closing shift.

"I'll be out in a second."

A man's low voice wafted your way from the back room. When you finally glanced up after trying to dry off and wipe your feet on the mat, you froze. 

"You."

Your childhood best friend Zayne stood before you, the startled whisper falling from his lips like the first snow. He was taller now, but everything else was the same. His slightly tousled black hair from his habit of running his fingers through it, hazel eyes hidden behind silver rimmed glasses, he even still favored darker colors in his wardrobe. He'd rolled the sleeves of his black cardigan back above his elbows, the grey henley underneath looking even softer than his light blue winter scarf wrapped around his neck. 

The shock melted away as he strode towards you, wrapping you in a warm embrace that felt like home. Zayne pulled back enough to study you, memorizing every feature that had changed since he saw you last. 

"It's good to see you Zayne."

A gentle squeeze to your shoulder as he returned your smile. 

"Just let me close up and tell my receptionist not to come in tomorrow."

"This is yours?"

Zayne nodded as his fingers flew across his phone.

"It is. You remember Yvonne from high school? She works part time as my receptionist, piercer and does script work on tattoos when needed."

The message sent with a faint chime, the melody of drawn window shades and shutting locks filling the silence before Zayne flicked off the lights and guided you upstairs. 

The spacious kitchen opened up into a living room, the bed in the corner hidden behind a black wooden room divider. What must be the bathroom and linen closet completed the open floor plan, most of the pristine furniture almost looked as if it had just been dropped off from the store. He carefully spread your soaked cloak across the couch to dry, casting a sheepish glance your way.

"I'm mostly downstairs at work, so I'm just here to eat, sleep and shower."

"That explains why your kitchen chairs still have tags on them."

He leaned over while loosening his scarf with one hand while the other smoothly ripped the tag off before pulling it back for you.

"Then you'll be the first to use them. Sit, I'll make us tea. How long have you been back?"

"I just flew in. My plane landed in this storm and I forget that a small airport meant we would be stuck on the runway for over a hour before we could taxi to our gate."

"Are you just visiting?"

"I accepted a position at Dr. Noah's Practice. Ironically his old dermatologist Dr. Greyson took the position that I left at Akso."

Zayne froze mid pour over the two tea cups, his gaze shooting to yours. Quickly forgetting the mugs, he strolled to your side before placing a hand on your shoulder.

"Is everything okay? Are you okay?"

"I just needed a fresh start. I loved Linkon at first, I really did. Studying dermatology, my residency, just being in the city felt like I could do anything. But after a while I felt like a hamster running on a wheel. I was just exhausted and I don't know, just going through the motions."

With a heavy sigh you spared a glance his way, nothing but understanding and compassion danced in his warm gaze as he squeezed your shoulder. Once he was satisfied you were truly fine, he returned to the other side of the counter.

"I'm sure you'll find a fresh start here."

"I will. I mean we always found things to do. Oh hey, do you remember when we were kids and made that bucket list? I found it when I was packing everything up. I almost did everything on it."

"Wait, you put hot sauce on ice cream?"

"I did. And I got sick after so I don't recommend it."

Zayne's laughter joined yours as he placed a warm mug of tea in your hands, the sweet aroma of pear and honey surrounding you in the steam. Grabbing a pair of light blue hand towels from his bathroom, he gently placed one in front of you before stepping behind you and beginning to dry your hair. 

"Oh Zayne it's okay. I can do that."

"If you don't get warm soon, you'll get sick. Trust me, winters have only gotten worse since you left. Besides, I did this for you when we were kids by the lake while you ate your popsicle."

"That you insisted on stealing bites of as compensation for your services!"

"As I recall you offered that of your own free will."

Minutes seemed to flow into hours until the sun had set and twinkling stars lit up the night sky, though the sharp winds and falling snow had quickly blanketed the streets. The tree branches shook, one tapping against the window before a violent gust tore the branch from its trunk.

"That's horrible timing for the storm to pick back up. But I should really go check in at my hotel."

Zayne glanced outside, his frown matching your own. 

"I can't let you leave in this. You can take my bed."

"It's your house, I'll be fine on the couch."

Rinsing your mug in the sink, you stepped back to let him do the same.

"The couch that is currently damp from your cloak?"

"Oh."

Zayne glanced towards the storage closet in the living room, his brow furrowed in thought.

"I should have a heater around here, you might have to wait a few minutes for it to dry. "

No sooner had the words left his lips did the lights flicker before plummeting the room into darkness while the heat pump ground to a stop in the utility closet. In the darkness, you heard Zayne moving around the furniture with ease before the moonlight cast a faint glow through the open curtains. Light switches clicked on and off, but no power surged forth as the air seemed to rapidly chill. As your eyes adjusted, you cautiously inched your way towards the patch of moonlight on the wooden floor, narrowly avoiding bumping into the corner of the counter. 

"Here. I have blankets."

A soft fabric draped over your shoulders as Zayne reappeared, both of your gazes falling on the bed. It would just be body heat, nothing more. Not sharing a bed with your oldest childhood friend that you had a crush on since you were ten. The secret that you had kept locked up tight in fear of ruining the friendship in case the feelings were one sided. 

Zayne softly cleared his throat, his gaze on your carry on bag by the stairs. You hadn't even noticed the sweatshirt and pajama bottoms he'd placed before you, seeming to solve a problem you hadn't even realized existed. The majority of your belongings were stuck in traffic on a highway in Linkon and what remained in your carry on bag was soaking wet.

"All my toiletries are in the medicine cabinet. Help yourself."

By the time you emerged from the bathroom, Zayne was already under one of the blankets having changed into a navy shirt. Knowing him, most likely it was a matching pajama set. Padding to the other side, you eased under the blanket. Leaving ample space between you both, a weight of unspoken emotions pressed heavy on your chest as you tugged your side of the blanket closer. Your foot accidentally brushed against his leg causing him to draw a sharp breath.

"So cold! Are you a penguin now? How is Antarctica?"

You turned on your side to face him with a laugh.

"If I'm a bird, then you're a bird. How did you end up with this place anyways?"

"This used to be a flower shop, but the owner wanted to moved closer to family. I had a part time job here and one thing led to another. The owner gave me a vase of blue jasmines, hence the name. It seemed fitting. After I bought the place, "

Zayne paused when there was no murmured hum of interest, glancing over to confirm what the steady breathing implied. His oldest friend was fast asleep. Reaching over, he gently tucked the blankets around her before brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch lingering along her cheek. Just as beautiful as when he last saw her, his heart still fluttering in his chest as old feelings resurfaced. His first love and probably his last. Though that love may be unreturned, at least she was in his life as a friend.

When you woke the next morning, Zayne's side of the bed was cold. An extra blanket was carefully placed over your shoulders as the morning sun peeked through the curtains, a thick flurry of snow falling on the countless inches on the ground. Tugging the blankets around yourself, you reluctantly rolled off of the warm bed when you heard his footsteps coming up the stairs. Zayne appeared moments later, a bag of groceries in his arms that he quickly deposited on the kitchen counter next to a kit of tools. 

"Good morning, I hope I didn't wake you. I just went next door to get breakfast."

"I just woke up actually. That was the best sleep I've had in ages. That was brave of you to go through this storm."

"We're actually snowed in, but we discovered a secret door between our store and the convenience store last year. A building that is over 200 years old is bound to have even more secrets, we use it in case of emergencies. And since we only have a small general store, I only got a few things. Bread, fruit cups, granola bars. I have peanut butter and jelly in the pantry. It's not the best spread, but we're still without power. Once the snow plows come through, the linemen can address the power outage. Once I have light, I can fix the heater."

"Let me know if you need my help with anything."

You grabbed the last pair of clean clothes from your bag, pausing by the bathroom door. Sparing a glance over your shoulder, you watched him flit around the kitchen with such care as if the only thoughts on him mind were about your wellbeing. 

You could just tell him, free those feelings that had been trapped inside for years regardless of the threat of rejection.

"I have something to tell you."

His voice overlapped with yours, the same phrase falling from both your lips. You laughed softly as his surprised gaze flicked to yours, the same moment repeating as you both apologized and insisted the other speak first. Zayne smiled gently as he watched you expectantly, but the bravery you felt melted like snowflakes.

"Um, I'm going to get cleaned up. Then I'll join your for breakfast."

Vanishing in the sanctuary of the bathroom, you closed the door softly and leaned your head back against it with a dejected sigh. Maybe some feelings were never meant to be shared.

While you ate, Zayne filled you in on the small town drama that had occurred after you left. Who had left, who had stayed, who had created the monthly festival in the town square so small businesses could sell their wares. The small candles flickered on the coffee table as you set down your empty fruit cup and sank back on the couch with a content sigh.

"I can't believe I missed so much when I was away. A part of me thought everything would stay the same."

"Sometimes things change and blossom into what they were always meant to be."

He hesitated for a brief moment, the air seeming to swirl with emotions before he continued on.

"Earlier, what I was trying to say, I just wanted to tell you that"

The roar of a heavy engine from outside cut off his train of thought, the squeak of brakes as the snow plow slowly cut a path through main street.

"I should go help the snow plow. He always gets stuck on this street."

With an apologetic smile, Zayne cleared the table and shrugged on his winter coat and gloves before vanishing back down the stairs. You'd caught it, the change in his tone as his thoughts had pivoted mid sentence. But if you had your secrets, he could have his too. 

In a few hours, the streets were free of snow, the lights were once against glowing brightly in each room. Zayne tinkered with the broken heater using a socket wrench. You had spent the last hour getting caught up on emails since you had a stable internet connection again, just sending the last reply when a pained gasp made you freeze. Zayne was clutching his hand, a jagged cut from the edge of the heater glistening ruby red across his palm.

Following him into the bathroom, you grabbed the first aid kit from under the sink where he already had his injured hand under running water. Pulling out a pack of gauze and fresh bandages, you tore open the pack of antiseptic wipes.

"Sorry, this might sting. You'll have to bear with it."

Zayne only watched you trustingly, placing his hand in your waiting palm. 

"I trust you."

To his credit, he didn't even flinch at the sting. Warm hazel eyes studied you as if he was a student, tracking the bandage roll as it wound around his hand to secure the gauze tightly. Finished with your work, you sank back on your heels as you gaze up at him. You almost didn't realize how long you'd been staring until he cleared his throat.

"Is everything okay?"

With a soft laugh, you quickly averted your gaze as yet another moment to confess your true feelings evaporated.

"Your skin looks healthy, keep wearing sunscreen."

"Thank you doctor."

When you turned to go, he lightly caught your arm. 

"Wait. Truth?"

He extended his pinky to you, a childhood gesture that still held the same sense of security. Speak the truth and all would be well with no judgements, only support. Taking it with your own, you held his gaze as he counted down from five. With a deep breath, you felt a weigh lifting from your chest as you both spoke at the same time.

"I was going to tell you earlier that I like you. As more than a friend."

Searching his gaze, you found only adoration and love as he leaned closer, finally pressing his lips to yours in a soft kiss.

With no more clean clothes, Zayne leant you one of the last clean shirts he had later that night. The soft black jersey cotton had an open back, the sheets on his bed feather soft against your bare skin as you shifted on your side to gaze out the window at the empty street. From behind you, Zayne sucked in a breath as he saw the scar stretching across the left side of your back from the bottom of your ribcage to your spine. Most of the time you forgot it was there, a lasting mark from a childhood accident. You and Zayne had climbed up a tree, a few branches beyond what was safe. The branch broke, sending you plummeting to the ground as the rough tree bark ripped along your back. Zayne tried to reach down and catch you, the back of his left wrist bearing similar scars from the incident.

"I couldn't protect you then, but I can now."

His lips traced the words between your shoulder blades, a trembling exhale falling from him before a feather soft kiss pressed against your scar. Something apologetic and reverent wrapped into one as kisses traced the length of your rib cage. When you felt him pull back, you glanced over your shoulder before reaching out to cup his cheek. He nuzzled into your palm before leaning down to kiss you. Shifting onto your back, he moved to gently hover over you, dipping down to trail kisses along your jawline. Fingers threaded through yours by the pillow as he kissed you slow and deep. His nose lightly brushed against yours while you both catch your breath, his soft voice warm enough to melt snow. 

"I've always been yours."

The chime of your phone yanked you abruptly from a blissful sleep. With a groan, you nuzzled into Zayne's chest as he dropped a kiss to the crown of your head.

"With the snow clear, your movers might be able to finally bring your things? Or that might be Dr. Noah?"

"Zayne, five more minutes before that comes inside our little sanctuary."

The real world gave you thirty seconds before the alerts seemed to grow louder. After fumbling for your phone, you saw that Zayne had been right on both accounts. The movers were set to deliver everything early afternoon to the apartment above Dr. Noah's practice, and Dr. Noah had reached out to let you know that you could come by anytime to get your paperwork and keys. 

He finally managed to coax you out of bed with a cup of hot chocolate with extra sugar. Once you had gathered your things, you met him downstairs where he was already preparing the tattoo parlor for opening. Taking a sip of the drink made perfectly to your tastes, you flipped through the flash sheet of tattoo designs hand drawn by Zayne. A cluster of snowflakes around a jasmine flower quickly caught your eye.

"Hey Zayne, remember how I said I almost completed that bucket list? The only thing we had left was to get a tattoo."

"Do you see something you like?"

"Maybe, I'm not sure how it would look on my arm though."

"I can fix that."

Zayne sat down at his station, uncapping a marker pen with his teeth while his free hand reached for yours. Guiding your arm to rest on his desk, he leaned over and sketched out the design with surgical precision. With a steady hand, a flower bloomed over your forearm with dainty snowflakes floating around the stem. He glanced up at you through dark lashes, his teeth still holding his bottom lip in concentration.

"Zayne, it's perfect. I've never seen anything so beautiful. Can I try?"

"Be my guest."

Taking the offered pen, you carefully drew small stars around the scar on the back of his wrist. The very same mark he'd earned trying to save you when gravity had sent you tumbling out of the tree like an avalanche now shone like an aurora in the night sky. He quietly reached over to pull out a sheet of stencil paper, carefully tracing over what you had drawn as if to save it forever.

"it's beautiful. And your bucket list? There's no rush, we have all the time in the world. After all, I see forever in your eyes."

The entry to Baldur's Gate loomed behind you. Though you were a stranger to the city, Astarion knew every street here. After he leaned down and pressed a kiss on your cheek, he ushered you past countless shops and taverns. Pausing outside a small peaceful bakery, you sampled the signature blueberry lemon curd as sweet honey water washed away the sour aftertaste before he tugged you to the docks. He toyed with another seashell that you had picked up, a wistful expression on his face as he took in the sunset.

"You know, love, I wish you were with me back then. During the day, we'd walk around town and savor all the specialty dishes at the taverns. And in the evening, we'll pass by a path bursting with flowers when I walk you back to your home."

"Why would you walk me back? Shouldn't we be living together?"

"That would be the case now. But back then, I was a rogue with a proper sense of boundaries."

With a laugh, you tugged him close. Leaning in, your nose brushed against his as you closed the distance.

"Astarion, I'd ask if you've been in my mind, but the tadpole leaves nothing to the imagination. I was thinking the same thing, we must have two hearts beating as one."

Astarion kissed you gently before reaching down to thread his fingers through yours.

"I want a certain someone to be in the places I once called home. And to share every home with me in the future."

Carrying a tray of food from the kitchen, you nudged open the door to Cullen's office where your fiancee was still hunched over his desk. Not even the assortment of rolls, cheese, steamed turnips, buttered noodles and bowl of Fereldan potato and leek soup could steal him away from yet another long night of reports. Pausing by the door, you could only watch as he tactically worked through a pile of paper, only pausing to massage his aching shoulders.

"Did something catch your eye? You were in a daze."

His low voice startled you from your thoughts, the object of your affection staring at you with a faint smirk.

"Maybe a certain advisor who should learn to take breaks?"

With a gentle scold, you set the plates down on the empty space on his desk. Picking up the fork, you speared the largest turnip before glancing up at him.

"It's mine if you don't want it."

He leaned over, smoothly taking a bite and humming his approval. When he reached for a sweet roll, his fingers brushed over yours already closing around his target. You laughed softly, arching an eyebrow playfully.

"May the best one win."

You quickly snatched the roll from his unsuspecting grasp, only for him to lean in and kiss you. As your fingers loosened, he caught the bread as it fell from your grasp before taking a bite triumphantly before splitting the treat in half. Holding the other half out to you as a peace offering, he smiled softly.

"This is the first time I had to rely on someone to take care of me. It feels nice, but remember, taking care of you is my responsibility."

Small lanterns dotted the footpath stretching to the guest cottage surrounded by fresh flowers and apple trees. A much needed vacation for you and your fiancee, the interior promised rest and relaxation with hues of soft blue and a full sized bathtub. A basket of fresh apples sat on the kitchen countertop, floor to ceiling windows providing a picture perfect view outside.

Wesker followed you inside, your luggage set down at the door of your bedroom before he wrapped his arms around your waist and laid his chin on your shoulder.

"Trading the city life for the country might make you never want to return to Raccoon City."

"Albert, the only thing I might miss is all our favorite restaurants on speed dial. I can get started on prepping the apples for dinner though?"

"I'll run to the grocery store across the street. After all, I have the best sous chef assisting. Dinner will be perfect."

Wesker left with a two page grocery list as you began peeling and slicing the apples. Once you had discovered an old juicer in the lower cabinet, fresh pressed apple juice filled two glasses. When your fiancee still hadn't returned after twenty minutes, you called him after finally spotting his figure across the street with his arms full of bags.

"Stay where you are!"

"Are you threatening me? Or making an sincere request?"

"I'm requesting you to stay where you are until I go to you. Menacingly."

"Here's your golden opportunity. Why don't you come over and do whatever you want."

As soon as you reached him, you hooked the smaller bags over your arms before escorting him back inside.

"Thank you for your service. I made apple juice as a reward."

"Are the apples good?"

You nodded, popping another apple slice in your mouth.

"How good exactly? Let me taste it."

He leaned down, tugging you closer and lowering his head. Using his teeth, he gently bit down on the apple slice hanging from your mouth. You pulled back with a laugh.

"Do you want another? Come closer, it's in my hand."

"Nice try, the only thing in your hand is air. I replaced it with something real. You're welcome."

He intertwined your fingers before reaching around to offer you a glass of apple juice before taking the other for himself. A satisfied hum fell from his lips, a stray droplet sliding from the corner of his lips. Without thinking, you leaned up and pressed a kiss to the skin stained with apple juice. Wesker laughed softly as he pulled back.

"You seem satisfied with the taste. I am too, especially when I'm the glass."

He reached down to lace his fingers with yours once again, his thumb tracing your ring finger.

"If the blood vessels here lead to the heart, am I holding your finger or your heart?"

"Both. It might keep me captive with you forever."

"What about you? Don't you want to keep me captive?"

"Of course I do. You're mine."

"Yes, I'm yours."