glitters like gold

– 

There was an element of denial to this game that he was playing with Opal - that much he could admit to himself. For as much control as he had, for as fast as he was and as much as he could out manoeuvre her at every turn, she still had a hold on him. Had from the first time she had tried to steal from him and take him from all he was worth if he was honest for himself - after all there was a reason she had gotten the chance to redeem herself rather than being made an example of.  

Now here the two of them were once again and he was actively taking time out of what he did best to what? Continue their little game? She had once again tried to double cross him and here he was merely messing with her, every rule about not making work personal had been ruined with this one and it made him nervous. 

“Best boss of the year?” He resolved with a brow raised in her direction. 

As he sat the clink of his tags, hanging around his neck the only noise in the room for a moment as he took the first swig from the bottle. Eyes following as she settled onto the couch, making sure to keep his face neutral of any feelings as her heel dug into his leg, letting her reach for the bottle, resisting the urge to use her arm as leverage to pull her onto his knee. “I am sure I can find something to keep myself entertained if you need to alcohol. I mean after all you do sound the prettiest when your own mouth is occupied.” 

.

Perched on the other side of Paul, it was impossible to ignore the contradicting feelings that buzzed around her like angry bees whose nest had just been kicked. Frustration was the one that won out as she looked at him, though, and wondered how it was possible that he could be both the only person in the world that knew her, gave her any sense of what home even was anymore, and the one who made her feel the least safe. Off balance was how she felt around him. Out of control, like just his presence made her drunk. 

Her heavy eyes fell to his and she held his stare for a moment, only the light clinking of metal drew her attention first to his mouth and then to the dog tags hanging around his neck. They glinted in the silvery moonlight that filtered down through the window and if she squinted her eyes just so, the scene softened, the sharp edges growing dull. 

Like a moth entranced by flame she found herself moving forward, fingers wrapping around the silver chain of his tags and giving them a small yank as she smirked down at him. “Worst boss I ever had,” she said, voice pitched low. It had always been easier to hide in the darkness, and as Opal pulled the tags around his neck until the chain was tight with tension, she allowed it to guide her forward until she was perched over a thigh. This she understood. This she was good at. Running her finger over the indents of the engraving, she let her eyes fall to the tag in her hands. Her eyes danced over the name once before something about the words she’d read snagged in her brain. She read it again. And for good measure, she read it one more time, her every muscle snapping suddenly to attention as a horrible thought began to dawn on her.

Ruben Vargas. 

***

“It was for the best?” Caleb let out a humourless laugh, balling his hand into a fist to cover his mouth. “It… It was for the best. Wow, okay. Okay. Okay okay okay – this isn’t… this isn’t okay. It’s not fucking okay. How… what? That’s it? That’s all you’re giving me?” He blinked against the cool air, and shook his head, barely able to look at her. This… this wasn’t Jade. She stood like a brick wall, void of everything that Caleb fell in love with. The warmth that she radiated, blinding the Earth with it. To lay in that warmth helped him heal – and now…

He may as well have stood in the Arctic, with the blast of cold that came over him.

Was this who she truly was? Had he been a God damn fool the entire time? His breaths grew shakier with each one and he tried to remember what his previous therapist had taught him but his mind refused to budge. It was like – he knew what he needed to do, understood the steps but –  there was a mental block, somewhere.

“God, when you left, I felt –…” Sad and angry. Both of those words could’ve worked, and resembled part of the truth but they seemed to pale in comparison. “Hollow. Do you… do you know how much that sucks? Because it fucking sucks.”  Breathing in through his nose, he bit his lower lip to try and keep everything contained.

“And you’re here. You’re here. But you’re not… you’re not— you won’t give me anything, except tell me I shouldn’t be here, and I just.. I don’t think it’s unreasonable to ask you why, so this… this doesn’t happen again, so I can fix whatever I did wrong, and the next person doesn’t leave me in the middle of the night with my mother’s ring.”

.

Opal watched in no small amount of horror as Caleb seemed to unwind in front of her. She should have known from the moment she’d met him that he wasn’t her type, he wasn’t a mark that she’d never think about again once she’d left them high and dry. Seeing him now, she was forced to confront the truth that the only thing Caleb had ever done wrong, was being his father’s son.

And falling in love with a ghost.

She broke away from his big, sad, puppy dog eyes to see that people were beginning to pay attention. Feeling itchy with the sensation of eyes on her and she almost hissed at him to shut the fuck up for a minute.

But then. “And the next person won’t leave me in the middle of the night with my mother’s ring.” Opal staggered back a step as though she’d been dealt a physical blow. She was too stubborn to acknowledge the part way, way, way down deep inside her that wanted to lay some possessive claim over him. He was hers. Even if she had never really been his.

But the words were as true as they were sharp and all she could do for a long moment was look at him. Why had she ever thought that hurting him would satisfy the need for revenge when she thought about her mother? Caleb, who was innocent and kind? Caleb, who had loved her without limits?

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. This was so fucking complicated. “You didn’t do anything,” she said tiredly, the fight draining from her at once like a plug had been pulled. “I’m not--” who you think I am. “I have your ring. Your mother’s ring,” she corrected. “I can give it back to you. But I can’t give you what you want. Not really.”

Her reaction to him mentioning jail wasn’t bad. Actually, there wasn’t really one so he assumed she didn’t care, which made her intruiging. Most girls would have went up and left or gone in the other direction and asked more about it. This woman simply let it slide like he’d just told her what he ate for breakfast. 

It let the game move on and he dragged it out for as long as he could before locking eyes and it was truly impressive how long they held it, studying the color of each other’s eyes as they waited for one of them to give up. The brunette did but only to point out a middle aged woman a few feet behind him. His head turned and a chuckle fell from his lips. ❛ Oh…Deepest apologies Gertie, not even my mommy issues are that bad. ❜

Pulling a hand through his hair he turned once again to look at the mysterious woman and took a sip of his beer as he studied her innocent, widened eyes. An act, of course, but one he didn’t mind at all. Then he nodded slowly, already trying to figure out what to ask or tell her to do depending on her answer. ❛ Alright… Truth or Dare? ❜

.

She’d pegged him as a wildcard from the moment she’d first clocked him, but it was always deliciously validating to be right. She didn’t believe he was boring, despite his choice for truth over dare. 

And she’d gotten the answer she wanted, anyway.

An electric shock pulsed through her, all the way to her toes, as he seemed to study her. Come on, she silently dared him, play with me. She let the question hang in the air a moment as she leaned casually across her seat, plucking her drink from the bar and wrapping her lips around the rim in a way she knew looked suggestive. Placing the drink back down with a delicate clink, she leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands. “Dare.”

    At her disappointment Bash felt like he’d sort of let himself down as well when he didn’t say dare, however he was still pleased with her reaction. Meant they were on the same page, didn’t it? She seemed fun enough to be able to take the truth. Better that than someone else in the bar coming up to her to tell her who he was because truth be told, he wasn’t exactly unknown. Especially not in here. Hell, the bartender probably knew his whole life story from his drunk rambles. ❛ Wasn’t sure if you were powerful enough to send me back to jail, that’s all, ❜ he shrugged as if the confession wasn’t a big deal. ❛ I’m still not, ❜ he then added, raising his brows a little as he tried to read her. It didn’t go well apparently, her question catching him slighly off guard and caused a smirk to tug at his lips.

    ❛ The million dollar question, ❜ Bash mused, keeping his eyes on the woman for a moment before letting his gaze wander over the crowd. Not that he was looking at anyone, really. The answer was clear and the stranger probably knew it herself. Her confidence alone could likely blow the roof off of this whole building. 

   Taking a sip of his beer he straightened his head and looked right at the shelves in front of them for a moment before dark hues turned to look at the brunette from the corners of his eyes. She knew, but he still held his answer in as he swallowed the beer and then finally turned to lock his gaze with hers, lips curling up into the wry smirk he’d been holding back. ❛ I’d say her name but… She hasn’t told me. ❜

.

Back to jail, he said. So she had made the right choice after all. Reckless, homeless chic, and even she couldn’t deny, hot. And he wasn’t Ruben Paul Nebula whatever-the-fuck. And that made him her newest conquest. If only for the night.

Her emerald gaze remained locked on his face, even as he turned to survey the crowd. It was a show put on specifically for her and she smirked to herself as she brought the rim of her martini glass to her lips once more. She appreciated the game, enjoyed the way he made the time stretch between them before his eyes returned to hers and she saw the answer in them. 

Not that she’d needed the confirmation.

A slow, sly smile spread over her lips as her eyes bore into his-- an invitation if he so wanted it-- before they moved over to a middle-aged woman with a shock of gray hair over his shoulder. “Do you mean Gertie over there? She’s real nice, I could get her number for you.” Her grin widened playfully but her eyes still flirted and worked to draw him in. She held that stare for a moment before she widened her eyes with false innocence over the rim of her glass. “Aren’t you going to ask me now? Truth or dare?”

.

Another night at a bar. Well, the bar. He didn’t really go to any other place for a beer, or five, except his own fridge. Sometimes it was just nice to have people around to fill the space in his head with voices belonging to strangers. Although, he did know most people going here so it wasn’t unusual for him to get company now and then. However, when someone slid onto the bar stool next to him, Bash looked up from his hands that were spinning the beer on the bar top, now looking at a face he didn’t recognize. He was just about to ask what she was eyeing at when she asked a question he didn’t quite expect.    Chuckling as he leaned back a little, he looked at the woman as if she was joking. That was a children’s game, wasn’t it? Kind of. Not a bad conversation starter though, he had to admit that. Leaning forward again he thought for a moment. ❛ Uhm… ❜    His mind said dare, immediately. What could be the worst, her making him buy her a drink? Bash was always better at doing than talking. Not that he was terrible at the latter; he’d talk to practically anyone about anything. Right? He didn’t know this woman though and she definitely had trouble written all over her, hint of danger in her eyes that he was definitely intruiged by, so maybe telling her his deepest darkest secret was better than being set up to do something stupid, even though that was his speciality. You’re on parole. Fuck. Right. ❛ Truth? ❜

.

She’d been expecting him to say dare. Something about him just seemed reckless, and maybe that’s what she’d been drawn to. If her life was never going to be her own, if she was fated to be ruled by all the choices she ever made, then she would choose the worst ones. This felt like a good place to start.

“Truth?” she asked, lifting a brow as she brought her glass to her lips. “And here I thought you looked like fun.” Her lips pressed together in a coy smile. She was goading him, hoping he’d rise to her challenge. Even if she was yet to figure out exactly what that was. She tapped her lips as she thought a moment as she looked him over. She prided herself on her ability to read people and he struck her as someone who liked bold. “If you could fuck anyone in this bar right now, who would you pick?”

It was no longer Halloween season, but this bitch was still so fucking haunted. All the ghosts of her past had seemed to line up one by one to take their shots at her and she was so tired. Seeking refuge in the kind of bar in the part of town she figured neither Ruben nor Caleb would go, she sat alone sipping a martini alone. The longer she sat, the angrier she got. She was tired of owing people things: money, explanations, her time. She’d come here to take it all back.

And wasn’t the world such a fucking jokester.

But as her eyes landed on a man across the bar, her interest piqued. Nothing about him was her usual mark-- in fact, it was possible he was homeless, now that she was really looking at him-- but that was what had her moving toward him. She didn’t have to plan for the perfect moment to slide her hand into his pockets or bat her eyelashes just enough to get him to buy her a free drink. No, this was a choice without strings.

So, she slid into the empty stool beside him. Propping her chin on her hand, she tilted her head in his direction. “Truth or dare?”

***

For the longest time Caleb thought his biggest fear was being forgotten. A cliche, but cliches existed for a reason. But he realized suddenly, he was facing it right now.

To be looked at from the person he loved most in this world like he was nothing. Like he was a pest she’d step on for simply being in her way. He thought he mattered, that he made an impact on her in some way, but – suddenly, he wasn’t so sure. 

And now it felt like his throat was being constricted by vines. Despite the chill in the air (and not just from the other woman), his face felt like a raging inferno. He knew what this was, and God, he wanted to dampen it down and show he wasn’t this easily affected. But how could he?

Caleb dug his hands into his pockets and slumped his shoulders, retreating into himself felt like the only comfortable thing he could do right now. “I moved here? But Jade, baby please–…” He squeezed his eyes shut, muttering a soft fuck to himself. “I don’t even know what day of the week it is or what I ate for breakfast this morning.” Gulping heavily, he had to force that down. “Trust me I know I’m pathetic but I’m not that pathetic.”

A beat.

“So… why?”

.

Opal closed her eyes against the sound of that goddamn name. Why did he have to have the big sad eyes? Why couldn’t he have just been a bastard like his father? It would have made this so, so much easier.

But he’d adored her, had worshipped the ground she walked on, and even as she tried to deny it, there was a part of her that craved that. That relished in it. She’d taken so much of him with her when she left, but now that she was looking at him, she realized he had some pieces of her, too. Not Jade. Sofia.

God, this was so messed up. 

Her eyes darted around, planning for escape. But as she slid her narrowed eyes back at him, she realized she was trapped. Even here, backed into a corner as she was, she wanted to tell him that he wasn’t pathetic. He was simply a better person than she was. Trusting and loving. Those were good qualities. Ones she preyed on like the black widow that she was. “It was for the best,” she said finally, her voice devoid of emotion. “I know you don’t see it that way, but I promise you that it was. And you-- you shouldn’t be here.”

“You say that as if it isn’t your name…don’t be mad at me because you haven’t managed to lie to me yet.” He wondered how frustrating it was, he knew there was nothing he hated more than when he couldn’t read people and so far Opal had proven in the games that she had tried to play with him that she didn’t take to well to loosing. 

Should have picked an easier game pretty Sofia. 

Once she was safely over the bar Ruben made sure to let go of her hand, only for it to rest on her hip as she settled himself at her side so that he could lead her through the darkness and the chaos that the others seemed to have found themselves in, letting his eyes adjust to the dark that he very much doubted was going away rather than scrambling for an ember of light that would do little to ease the blackness. “Resistance is futile you know that right?” Ruben muttered as he looked down at her, finding a door handle that lead to another open room. 

One empty and away from the noise. “I think we found the staff lounge, remind me to put in a job application here later.” The male whistled as he popped the top of the whiskey bottle and made his way over to the couch. “You coming for that free booze?” 

.

Paul knew exactly what he was doing, the bastard. His hand slid to her waist and she had to work to keep her breathing even. In the dark, it was easier to forget the debts between them, easy to fall for the sex that laced his voice, for the danger he radiated to draw her in like a goddamn moth to a flame. They boiled down to simple truths. He knew her. And there was a part of her that clung to that so tightly because he was the only person left in the world who did.

She hated him for that too.

“You should list me as a reference. I promise I’ll only say nice things about you.” She batted her lashes though she knew he couldn’t see in the dark. The sugary sweet of her voice would have been enough to clue him in. His voice floated to her and she lingered by the door, the smile slipping from her face. The barest of light had found its way in, only enough to highlight his imposing figure as he settled onto the couch. “I thought we already went over just how unlikely that is when you’re involved.”

But even as she said it, her heels clicked against the floor as she made her way towards him. The air had grown thick, her heart pounding a little harder with each step that took her closer to the devil. 

But she was no offering.

She slid onto the arm of the couch, bringing up a leg and settling it against his own thigh, purposely sticking the heel end in. Reaching out, she plucked the whiskey from his hand and took a large sip. She winced as it burned its way down, but recovered quickly enough. Holding the drink out of his immediate reach, she pouted as she looked down at him. “But what are you going to drink?”

***

The all too sugary soda had gotten into his eyes, because of fucking course it did, and Caleb was temporarily blinded. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand as he repeated the word ‘cool’ over and over again, trying to regain his composure and show that he was fine and dandy on the surface. It was going to be water off a duck’s back, no big deal, because tripping over himself and spilling food and drinks all over shouldn’t have been a common occurrence yet it was. But he heard his name spoken with too much familiarity.

There was absolutely no fucking way Jade was in the town he just moved into and that he had imagined her voice, like he had done numerous times before. That inkling of hope he lived in these fleeting seconds, and wanted to live in forever, taken away as quickly and he’d be blasted with memories of waking up to emptiness. The first week after was a harsh reminder, because he’d turn over and give her a forehead kiss, or pet strands of hair away from her eyes.  But she wasn’t there anymore, and he had to be reminded once fucking again. Some gruel God was repeating the video of his worst moment in his life: the realization that she left. And he was tired. So tired.

Opening his eyes, he blinked against the thin, cool air and froze at the sight of her. The woman he loved with every fiber of his being, that he wanted to make his wife someday, stood mere feet away just staring. It felt like he was underwater, air escaping from his lungs with the weight on his chest growing heavier with each passing second. 

And then she ran. 

Fuckity fucking fuck.

Caleb’s momentum had him going forward, except he clumsily fell forward onto his knees. He wasn’t pressed to care about the mud on his hands, the ripped hole in his jeans or the fact he threw his soda behind him only for it to hit some poor unsuspecting bastard. What else was there to care about? He continued ahead, running like a poor clumsy baby giraffe. Mouthing out a quick apology to the person whose shoulder he rammed against, he picked up his pace. It took him a good thirty seconds, nearly tripping over himself three times, but he finally managed to catch up. He hurried past her and nearly came skidding to a stop in front of her. The desperation was heavy, rolling off him in such a way it could be seen from space.

“Jade, please,” Caleb pleaded with puppy-dog eyes. His breaths were heavy, ragged, and not from the running. “Stay. Just… stay. Please…”

.

This was a goddamn nightmare.

No, this was worse than that. Because she was awake. She was awake and those wide, innocent, hurt eyes were fixed on her. She was wholly unprepared for this kind of fallout. She pulled the pin and ran, she never had any intention of waiting around to see the aftermath. Nor did she think it would ever find her.

And then he said the name Jade and it was like another punch to the gut. It wasn’t her name, wasn’t her anything, and yet, hearing it again made her realize that she’d scattered pieces of herself within it. She’d given parts of herself-- of her real self-- to Caleb to hold. And she could see them reflected back at her as he stood there now.

This felt nothing like revenge or vengeance. This felt...

This actually felt pretty fucking bad.

She walled up that emotion, wrapped it in barbed wire as her slack mouth snapped closed and her eyes hardened. She folded her arms across her chest as she stared him down. “What are you doing here?” she demanded. “Are you stalking me?”

– 

“Now now, that’s just rude because the last time we were in the same time I recall you had, many, many orgasms. It’s not my fault if you chose to pick targets that can’t deliver.” He just made the papers for her, though he was still working on finding out who she had managed to get Jade from, he’d get a name eventually and that would be dealt with. Right now though he was working on making sure she still knew exactly where her position in this relationship was. 

As she questioned his good will Ruben shook his head, reaching out to brush the hair framing her face. “You are fiesty tonight, we both know my good heart is the only reason you’re allowed to work to pay of all that debt and not suffering for it in other ways.” He himself didn’t have a messy past, but there were money trails that could be linked back to several ghost accounts that had paid people to take care of things for him. Nebula wasn’t going to keep up his reputation as the best if people could just walk all over him. 

The plunge into darkness was welcome, the male finally at the most ease he had been all night. Eyes focusing on the shapes he could make out as everyone else descended into chaos he simply laughed. “No me digas que le tienes miedo a la oscura Sofía.” Finally able to have a good time Ruben made a mental note of where his bar stool had been and how much room there would need to be at the other side of the bar as he climbed over in a few steps before he offered out a hand to her, making sure she could feel it in the dark. “You coming, all the expensive stuff is still back here and now it’s unattended, you wanted a good night right?” 

.

“Stop calling me that,” he hissed through gritted teeth. They said names held power and it sounded like such a silly sentiment. But something about the way he said her name-- her real name-- drew tantalizing fingers down her spine, drew heat to her core.

She fucking hated him.

And no, she wasn’t scared of the dark. Idiota.

Except, it was true she didn’t love it. Opal thrived on control. Subtle manipulations, being two steps ahead at all times. Both the dark and Paul really put a damper on that and it left her reeling and unbalanced. Why she found herself considering his offer, she’d never know. Apparently she was an idiota too. 

She left his hand lingering in the dark for a moment before she sighed, gritted her teeth, and took hold of it. Fire danced everywhere they touched as she slid herself across and over the bar. As she tucked in close enough to feel the solidness of him, she muttered, “I’m still not convinced you and a good night go hand in hand, but I’m not going to turn down free alcohol. Even if it means sharing it with you.”

There was a cadence to her words that would have made her a very worthy adversary once upon a time in an entirely different situation. One that would have involved him giving her full attention and seeing where the night took them. It was almost a shame he hadn’t gotten the shot to try, but still, he felt that Opal knew that that was her direct pull. Having the ability to sink her teeth into something or someone and then release out of boredom. There was a reason why they hadn’t met sooner and he probably could thank his ancestors for that. He made a mental note to warn Nico as well that his exact type was meandering around town. 

The tiger wouldn’t be an issue in another other time frame, but it was wondering if he was going to keep the sale that was on the horizon. That was when Opal had resorted to a compromise, she would go back to running her stand, and Aless could do an outline, she claimed she wanted to see the finished peace but there was something about it that made him feel like she was saying it as something would promise to come back and never look their way ever again. He chuckled softly as he agreed to the sketch. “I can definitely sketch this in a half hour, but I’ll grant you an extra 15 minutes in case anyone is dying to know what their life line is. 45 minutes?” Aless asked her, before turning to the client. 

“Just to be clear, this ink won’t be on you tonight but I will create the design, if you still like it, then we can set up a follow up appointment where it’ll take at least 6 hours of your time. And if it’s your back, you have to know there’s only so much the numbing agents can do.” He let the client mull that over as he briefly led Opal to the door, his hand landing on her shoulder. “If you score this deal, I’ll cut you in.” 

.

She felt seen in a way that she didn’t particularly love by the tattoo artist, but it made her wonder if perhaps that meant he was something of a kindred spirit? It really was a shame her wiles didn’t draw him in. She had the distinct impression that he would have been a good time.

Her eyes flicked from the person in the chair and back again at the light teasing, one half of her mouth curling up into a smirk. “The stars are feeling generous tonight. I think I can swing forty-five minutes. But any more than that and I’m going to have to charge you,” she purred, her face playful, but her eyes knowing. A look she figured he was astute enough to see into the truth of. He’d clocked her, there was no reason not to at least lean into it a little.

Opal hadn’t expected anything out of this, except a little fun. Toying with her food like a cat with a mouse. But as his hand came down on her shoulder, she searched his eyes for the but. It didn’t come. Straightening, she tilted her head a little, a slow, genuine smile budding on her lips. “You know, this might be the start of a beautiful partnership. There’s so much more where that came from.”

–

A part of him was saddened at the males retreat from the bar, where Ruben had watched him put so much effort in already. Was no one even gallant enough to try and puff their chests a little these days that they gave up so easily? Or maybe it was just a case that he had been quick to realize Ruben would out do him in every sense of the matter and he hadn’t even wanted to try? Ruben half expected both parts of his theory to be true, which be bemused and deflated him all the same. 

“If you think thirty more seconds of your precious wasted time is worth another glass of red wine then I really need to have a word with you about upping your value for money sweetheart.” Maybe if she charged more she wouldn’t owe him quite so much money anymore, or maybe if she could tell fortunes like she had been preaching all evening she would have seen that it was a very, very bad idea to try and mess with him in the first place. Oh how he wondered how often she replayed that night in her head, when she had picked him to try and target for the night. He couldn’t blame her really, he had been at a biology convention after all, glasses pushed to the tip of his nose and his usual leather had been swapped for cashmere. 

“I thought so too.” Letting her take his hand Ruben sat, continuing to be entertained by the dedication to her act. He had to give her that, she was committed to character. “Funny, you would have thought with the total of your bill, you’d be the one buying me a drink. But I guess I can do this freebie for you as a gesture of good will.” Gesturing to the bar tender for the most expensive shot of anything Ruben turned back at the sound of the name he had once blessed her with. Her mouth did look so pretty as she said it, and he wondered how she would look moaning his real name - not that he intended on finding out. “I know, you’ve told me multiple times, but let’s drink shall we?” 

.

Sweetheart.

Her saccharine smile soured a little. Only moments ago, she’d felt so powerful, so sure that any man in this bar would have tripped over their own tongues to get to her. But one word from this bastard of a man, and she felt two inches tall. “Who says it would have been wasted time? Maybe it wasn’t just the drinks I wanted. Why is it when you’re involved, I’m always robbed of an orgasm?”

It was a bold faced lie, one they both saw right through. But a little goading never hurt anyone. 

“Good will,” she scoffed, dropping his hand. “I didn’t realize that was part of your vocabulary.” She took the shot and held it up in mock cheers before shooting it back, letting the warmth envelope her, let it fill her with the kind of false confidence she needed to make it through this interaction. 

Setting the empty glass back down, she slowly drew her finger around the rim, opening her mouth to say something she hoped would dig under his skin. She never got the chance as the lights suddenly went out, the absence of sound that followed roaring in her ears. Panic tried to settle in as a flurry of motion began kicking up around them. “What the fuck just happened?” she asked, trying her best to sound like she wasn’t a second away from joining them.