it's only forever

♡

His costume suited him. He’d always had a flair for the dramatics, but there was no denying that the crisp, dark pieces of his ensemble worked perfectly to his advantage, especially with the light of the full moon shining down overhead. There was a reason she’d been drawn to him all those years ago. He was striking - handsome, dignified, and all but dripping with regal intelligence, he’d made it all too easy for Lilianna to look past the carefully-hidden red flags in favor of allowing him to creep his way into every single aspect of her life, and as she looked at him now, she could already envision it happening all over again. Not to her, but the other submissives he spoke of so freely - the ones that he was waiting for to run into his arms as they sought out solace from the fire. Lilianna’s stomach twisted at the thought of it, but beneath her thinly-veiled disgust was something else entirely; try as she might to deny it, she couldn’t quite swallow down the sudden sensation of sharp and unwanted jealousy at the mere suggestion of Adrian and another woman. Had she truly been that replaceable to the much-older dom? Except…

He circled around her slowly, not at all unlike a sea monster encroaching upon a mermaid in the ocean blue, but Lilianna’s slim and elegant hand didn’t waver on the dagger she held at the ready. For as many men - doms included - she might have sparred with (and won against) in the past, Adrian was an entirely different entitty. He knew her. He knew everything about her - even the facets of her being she was constantly trying so desperately to ignore, the chemical compounds of her own biology that she would have done anything to reverse. “Everything you gave me.” Her father would have berated her for closing her eyes in front of an enemy, but they drifted shut nevertheless, long lashes dusting across the tops of fine China silk as she breathed out a quiet, disbelieving laugh. “Everything that you took away from me, you mean. I’m just lucky that you allowed me to remain by my mother’s side as she died.” The pad of her thumb shifted, then, just a bit, to brush across the front of her dagger’s hilt - just so she could remind herself that it was still there. Just to remind herself that she had an actual reason for keeping it on hand.

He was what went bump in the night. He was the reason she slept with the lights on.

Her eyes were still shut, as if to block him out, but with her carefully-honed senses, she could still recognize that he was coming closer towards her. Closer and closer still, until finally, he was able to reach out and touch her hand, and as lightning-swift as her cat-like reflexes might have been, she didn’t stop him…nor did she pull away. “Adrian.” He would hear it, then, the way that her voice suddenly cracked and wavered, like the sound of a piano key being pressed out of tune, beautifully melodic but so terribly wrong all the same. He spoke to her in Romanian, treating her with the sweet terms of endearment she’d once clung to in moments of passion and intimacy, and as the warmth of his big, calloused hand eventually moved upwards further so that he could cup the delicately defined curve of her jaw…Lilianna’s resolve was all but tearing itself apart.

The dagger dropped. Like a falling snowflake, it fell soundlessly from her hand into the grass, and with it came a shaky, unsteady breath from Lilianna’s parted lips. Her heart was racing - was this how it felt to be hunted? Was this what it meant to be somebody’s prey? “Shì. Of course there were moments where I missed you,” she said in a wavering, tremulous voice, her eyes finally opening so that she could look up to him with a mixture of hurt resentment and pleading vulnerability. “I will not deny that leaving you was the hardest thing that I’ve ever done, second only to losing my mother.” What was happening to her? Her face rested in the palm of his hand, and she took a tentative step closer - this time, to place her own hand, much smaller than his without a blade clutched in her grip, above his heart, or where it should have been. “I kept wondering if this heart of yours - this organ - would ever beat for anyone aside from yourself.” Her slim, fine-boned fingers trembled, then, digging in a little to the front of his shirt. “When all I ever wanted was to hear it beat for me.” 

.

If asked to describe Lilianna, the shortest answer he could give would be ‘perfection’. That was too broad, but to go in depth about her many virtues would take far too long, and frankly would sound more like reading off an auction listing when coming from him. Adrian had a penchant for categorizing people according to what made them most valuable, after all. But without either being too broad or too detailed, he could truthfully say that she had never once, in her life, been the damsel in distress. Not even with him, however she might have played their separation to others—he wasn’t really sure, as he had respected her desire to sever contact entirely. No, a damsel she may be, but what had drawn him to her all those years ago was her utter assurance in her own abilities. In herself. An assurance that had never wavered for a moment, even when tested by the cruelest whims of fate. Adrian had been with many lovers in his life, but none ever came close to being his equal until Lilianna. She alone could match his intellect, his perseverance, his cunning. She alone could match him play-for-play in every round they went.

Perhaps his mistake had been in thinking she’d understood the game as well as he did. Submissives were meant to submit, and while the pair of them had played at sparring for dominance, he was always meant to come out on top, in every possible sense of that phrase. He’d thought she’d known that. Maybe that had been his miscalculation. She didn’t know the game, or if she did, she wanted to change the rules. Make herself completely his equal in every way. Well, that was simply impossible. Oh, my sweet Lilianna, Adrian thought upon reaching this epiphany, gazing at her in the night with a rare but ferocious burst of affection showing fleetingly on his face. The game was ingrained in them, down to their DNA.

And now, he was going to prove to her that there was only one rule set, and only one outcome.

“I’m not a monster, Lilianna, whatever you might think of me.” Her barbed words about allowing her to see her mother before Lanying had passed... actually managed to sting. True, he found most people to be rather useless and didn’t spend much energy caring about them. But she had been his, his own precious jewel seated on a throne in the heart of his collection, guarded jealously but treated (he’d believed) with the utmost respect. He’d have served her the world on a platter had she but asked. “Your mother was an incredible woman. I would never have stood between you when she needed you most.” The hurt was gone as quick as it had come, merely leaving a shadowy reminder in his chest that Lilianna was a rarity above anything he’d ever seen. She alone had the power to hurt him—not even his own mother’s death had wounded him so badly as Lilianna’s swift exit from his life. He had... mourned, in his own way. He had tried burying himself in other submissives, but they paled in comparison to her. They were fleeting, paltry meals that kept him afloat. She was his ambrosia, the food of the gods that sustained him.

He could taste her again already, in the whisper of his name that floated from her mouth unbidden and clearly against her better judgment. He heard the quiver in her voice, felt the way her jaw trembled against his hand. Inside him, old flames that had dulled to embers were rekindled, blood rushing headily through his veins to his head and loins at the way his name on her lips echoed how many times she’d cried it in ecstasy before. He’d caught her. The faintest thud as the dagger fell to the ground was all he needed to know she was ensnared, but her confession... it drove his heartbeat into a wild thrumming that made his skin tingle. And she would feel it, even through the layers of his outfit, now that her hand was resting over it. God, if only the fangs he’d donned for the party were real, if only they were capable of sinking into her and marking her as his own again. “My Lilianna, it could never beat for anyone but you,” he murmured, his voice dropping further as conquest and desire began flooding his body. All his senses were heightened as they only could be when he was in his full dominant glory, preying on the one person he would devour and leave alive to feast on again. “You are what kept it beating.”

Boldness was his trademark. The distance between them closed rapidly as he pulled her chin up closer to his face and wrapped his free hand slowly around her waist. Adrian could barely stop himself from claiming her mouth right then, but god damn it he wanted to. Only a faint voice in his mind reminded him of his plan. She had to come to him. But here she was, so close, those rose petal lips mere inches away and practically begging for him to remind them what passion really felt like. A rumble boiled up in his chest as he fought his own instincts and instead dipped his head to her cheek, just above his fingers and so close to her ear, lips grazing the skin there as he inhaled her intoxicating scent. “My girl...” he whispered, not realizing he’d said it aloud, until the cloud of lust and need around him broke sharply.

He could hear someone coming. Adrian froze, still as a statue for a moment, peering into the darkness at the approaching figure. Even by moonlight, he knew that silhouette. And though it was unexpected... it filled him with a strange sort of pleasure. “Wait, my dear,” he said softly, putting a finger to her lips. “I think we have a guest.”

as someone not as involved with the in and outs of rosewood, it was easy for jacob to get distracted by the manor’s grand appearance. he allowed himself to be herded through the front path and into the doors with the rest of the newbies, even though he wasn’t as much of a stranger to the concept of the place as they were. he was unfamiliar with the layout though, having never ventured into the hallways without someone to lead the way. he’ll wait by the door, hands in his back pockets as he shifts in his place, leaning his weight from one foot to another. he watches as employed submissives and dominants comes out to engage with the potential suitors, bowing his head to dismissive any that looked his way to avoid them coming any closer. even so, as his chin lowers, so does his gaze, allowing him to eye the woman.

ah   –   there’s his guide. his polite smile turns into more of a genuine grin. lazy, hooded eyes widen, brightening with pure happiness at her touch and the sound of her voice.          ❛          I can’t navigate this place without you by my side, selene.          ❛          his arm raises, a hand reaching for the one that she had draped over him. a calloused palm envelopes her fingers, lifting her arm as he turned to face her. their linked hands hang between them as he steps away to get a look at her. his gaze slides from her face down her figure, taking in her outfit but not in the same perverse way he had been eyeing the woman before her.          ❛          well aren’t you looking nice… hoping to catch a big fish today?          ❛          if she needs the reassurance, jacob is happy to give it to her. in this room she’ll catch a number of dominant’s attention.

Of course he’d still managed to see her just before she pounced. He was perceptive like that, but she wasn’t put out by his little triumph. On the contrary, she merely grinned. “Don’t I know it, dear. You look positively lost. Well, not to worry, I’m here to rescue you.” It always made her feel just a little more... whole, for lack of a better term, to be Jacob’s personal tour guide whenever he visited. Selene had to repay his help in small ways wherever she could, but she took great joy in being able to do so. And it wasn’t a chore to ferry him around wherever his fancy took him, but rather a delight to watch him explore, to be there at his side to offer suggestions, or suggestively offer to talk to anyone who caught his eye for him.

Her hand tightened affectionately around his as he stepped back, her other hand rising carelessly in a small pose as she allowed him to get a good look at the getup she’d put on. “Thank you, love, it’s new. Givenchy, if you can believe it.” Normally, she might indeed be dolled up to land a fine catch, but her eyes danced and she laughed a little at the suggestion. “Actually, this is entirely for you. I take my job as your guide very seriously, you know. Nothing but the best for you, and it doesn’t hurt to have a pretty woman at your side while we walk. Makes other subs jealous and all the more eager to have a shot at you,” she added with a wink.

One of Ariel’s favorite little known secrets about the dungeons was the break room hidden in its depths. After some griping and negotiating, one of the rooms had been converted into a decidedly non-sexual space for rest and relaxation, where dungeon masters, dom trainers, and sub breakers could convene to take breaks and eat meals without having to trek to other parts of the estate. It was a breath of shocking normalcy, a simple but functional room that could not have looked more out of place surrounded by corridors of BDSM fantasies.

And unsurprisingly, it was one of his favorite places in the estate for that very reason. It was functional (he didn’t have to spend half his breaks walking to and from the cafe) and it was kind of hilarious in its ordinariness. The various trainers and masters who worked the dungeons most had even taken to personalizing the space, putting up memes on the fridges to remind others to keep their hands off food that wasn’t theirs, or group photos from work functions. Ariel had contributed a drawing he’d done of part of the gardens from about a year ago. It was comfortable, and calming in a sea of sexual deviancy.

It was here that he was currently stationed, enjoying homemade taquitos and guacamole for “lunch”, despite it being almost two in the morning. He had been alone until now, with some music playing on his phone. However, the sound of the door opening to announce a newcomer didn’t sour his mood at all. On the contrary, his face lit up at the sight of the new person. “Avery! It’s been a while. You doin’ okay, man?”

This was shaping up to be the most stressful week in all of Anya’s two years at Rosewood. It took every ounce of her strength to not give in to sadness and simply remain curled up in her bed for days on end. That wasn’t the Olenov way. Back in Moscow, whenever she was sad, her mother would whip up an amazing dinner and say that she added extra love just for Anya. And even though she knew that was physically impossible, it never failed to cheer her up. Her mother wasn’t here to help now, though, so she’d just have to figure something out on her own.

It was late in the evening when Anya made her way down to the kitchens. She was a familiar enough face by this point that the staff merely smiled and nodded to her. Or they would have, if they were not so busy. It appeared the kitchen was understaffed that night, and had an unusual amount of room service to deal with. Anya would never dream of getting in their way and taking up valuable cooking space, but it felt wrong to simply leave without doing something to help. “This is going out, yes?” she asked, indicating a waiting cart of food that had not yet been taken for delivery. “Shh, no worry, I can take! Da, is fine, I promise! Happy to help!” She simply wouldn’t take no for an answer, and was rolling the cart away before anyone could protest.

She didn’t recognize the guest’s name, but the receipt told her the suite number, which was easy enough to find, and she actually enjoyed the relative quiet of the manor as she rolled the room service cart along the halls and up the elevator. She hummed quietly as she approached the suite, and knocked with a soft call of, “Room service!”

Despite the size of the estate, Rosewood’s grapevine was well-tangled and much smaller than people usually assumed. It didn’t take long for news of new arrivals to circulate throughout the staff, especially if those arrivals were familiar faces. What was more unusual was for Selene to show such interest in one of these regulars. She usually kept a stoic facade that made it hard for people to tell whether or not she was taking an interest in them. News of new guests tended to go unremarked-upon by her, because she would determine for herself if they would be worth her time.

But Jacob was different. And when she caught wind that he was back, she made sure to clothe herself in one of her best, slinky little black dresses and seek him out immediately. When she finally caught up with him, she couldn’t resist taking him a little by surprise, slipping behind him and sliding an arm up onto his shoulder while whispering, “Boo.” Most people who knew Selene at Rosewood would be surprise by how openly affectionate she was being, but they didn’t know her history like Jacob did. “Been here a whole two minutes and you haven’t come running to say hello? I’m shocked.”

Given how much time she’d been spending holed up in her room with her stolen files, Neve knew that at some point, she would need to go back out into the world of Rosewood and pretend that everything was normal. Nothing to be suspicious of here, nope, just a live-in submissive who had taken some time off and was now getting back into the swing of things. So although she’d rather be hunkered down over her computer still, Neve put on real clothes, grabbed her phone and her book, and headed out.

She didn’t have a set destination in mind; rather, she just sort of wanted to be seen going about “normal person business”, in case any of the higher ups were keeping tabs on her still. With the weather still quite warm, she eventually settled on heading to one of the pools for a bit of reading. As she neared the seating area, Neve scanned for a free seat that wasn’t too close to anyone else, so that she wouldn’t feel pressured into conversation. She stopped dead, however, when she caught sight of a jarringly familiar face among the people gathered at the pool. Her face froze in an expression of disbelief and mild horror, if only because this... this made things extremely awkward.

“.......... Ciarán?!”

The week following the fire was one of the calmest and most quiet weeks Neve had had in a very long time. Repairs were already going along at a good pace to have the ballroom back to its former glory, but plenty of guests and staff alike were taking time to recover from what had turned into a truly hellish evening. Neve was making use of this brief lull in the estate’s usual order to take personal time. Ostensibly, that was for recovery, getting over PTSD or whatever, getting her lungs back in order. But truly, she’d never felt better.

Thanks to one very well-meaning but naive gentleman, Neve had gained access to a main administrative office and been able to steal quite a few hard copy files during the confusion of the fire. Mostly, they were logs of current and past guests as well as residents, people who lived permanently on the premises either for work or for pleasure. In the past few days, Neve had been holed up in her room with these ill-gotten files and putting her old reporter skills to good use, copying all the data contained therein for her own use and beginning to sort through it. She’d made a few surprising discoveries already, for instance about the Swedish millionaire who was staying at the manor but who didn’t seem to exist anywhere else in the world. And she was practically foaming at the mouth to find out what other juicy tidbits could be unearthed.

Sadly, after several days of hard but exciting work building up her own files on possible targets and suspects, her brief respite came to an abrupt end. She had figured Rosewood’s administration would be on high alert after the fire, and she’d put on her best brave face to blend in with all the other shaken subs on the staff. But a message had just popped up, clipped and demanding, ordering her to report to Raphael’s office immediately. What did that prick want? It wasn’t as if she could say no, but it was frustrating to be pulled away from the files strewn across her bed. Well, he’d have to wait just a little bit, because Neve was familiar with how he liked to see his employees present themselves, and she was still in her pajamas without a speck of makeup to be seen.

It took her about half an hour total to make herself presentable, which actually impressed her if she did say so herself. Of course, she made sure to hide all of her work, just in case someone decided to snoop around while she was out, and that took a bit. But eventually she was showered, groomed, not wearing her fanciest clothes but still looking spick-and-span in a very simple but elegant blue dress that fell to the knee, complete with a little matching cardigan for modesty. She’d almost gone for something red, but frankly she didn’t want to stand out too much. She already didn’t like that she was on Raphael’s radar, so something muted and calm would suit the occasion better. An equally simple amount of makeup to frame her eyes and lips, and some blue kitten heels to match, and she was off. It was quite thrilling knowing that she’d made Raphael Doefoot of all people wait, and she was sure she’d be chewed out for it, but Neve didn’t much care. Let him stew a smidge, his ego was healthy enough to take it. A quick rap of her knuckles on the door announced her arrival. And now it was her turn to wait, pretending to be the picture of innocence in the hallway with her hands clasped behind her back.

Mateo had gotten out of the manor a little while ago, the security team directing him towards the forest with very clear instructions on staying put. They really didn’t need to tell him that, he was no hero, he wouldn’t have tried to help or get in their way. He didn’t want to see anyone get hurt, but he wasn’t qualified to be the hero and save people. Didn’t have that kind of resolve, and that was alright with him. There were better people who could take on this, and so he wasn’t needed. It didn’t stop him from staring at the burning manor with a weird sense of amusement. Something about the building on fire really set the tone for much of his employment with the place.

His attention was pulled away from his musings when he heard a familiar voice in his mother language. There was only a couple people he knew who could speak that way, so when he turn to look he wasn’t surprised to see Ariel. “Ariel!” He spoke out, his hand also rising to wave at him. “Estoy bien, ¿puedes creer lo que está pasando?” He said, “¿Cómo estás? I hope you didn’t come out of there with any injuries.”

.

“Bueno, me da mucho gusto,” he said, sighing with relief and rubbing a hand over his face. It was good to find Mateo unharmed, at least on the surface. Ariel was concerned about a lot of people here, so it was nice to be able to check one of them off the list, knowing he didn’t need to worry anymore. “No, esto es demasiado surrealista.” Even now, watching the flames go up in the building before them, Ariel had a hard time believing that any of this was happening. Surely this was all just a bad dream? But no, he’d inhaled just enough smoke to know better.

Looking back at Mateo, he shrugged, suddenly becoming aware of how tired he was. “Estoy... eh, no estoy herido, al menos.” Running around guiding scared guests to the forest and finding his friends was weighing on him, and the adrenaline that had gotten him this far was wearing off pretty quickly. “No burns or anything. But I’m probably going to sleep for a week after this. Just cancel all my sessions and stay in bed drinking water. I should have enough sick days to cover that.”

“Best security means nothing.” She said, Rosewood seemed a perfectly good target in her eyes. A place hidden away filled with some of the worlds elite, many of the guest having money or coming from money. She was also certain there were very undesirable people living within those same walls. Who they were and what they did she didn’t know, but as a waitress she’s heard many interesting things. Especially when those very people didn’t think she’d been listening. “Anything could happen in these times.” She says this, still looking at the manor, the smoke rising even higher in the night sky. For a moment the fire had her attention, but that was cut short when he spoke again. In her language, no less.

She looked away from the building and towards him now, eyebrows raised. She understood that saying. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise to her, but she was. There was someone who could understand her when she spoke in her main tongue. It was a saying she heard often as a child, she wondered if he was from there or just happened to know it. “Crezi asta?” She asked, turning her brown eyes back to the mess in front of them. She could hear shouting in the distance, but they were too far away to make out what they were saying. 

.

That was true enough. One thing Adrian knew for sure from his years dealing with antiquities was that nothing was impenetrable. Not the highest security vaults, not the most remote prisons, not the deepest tombs. All it took was the right resources and a good deal of determination. “You sound like this isn’t the first fire you’ve seen here,” he posited, cocking his head at her with interest. “Metaphorically, at any rate.” Wealth didn’t come honestly; anyone with money could attest to that. It had to come from somewhere, and usually it was ill-gotten, even if its new owners liked to believe otherwise. And with that harsh reality was the equally undesirable truth that any place meant for the rich and famous was bound to be a playground for criminals as well. Who knew how many unsavory elements abounded in a place like this?

Well, that was a surprise. She actually understood what he’d said, and responded in kind, to boot. Despite the desires fighting for release inside him, he gave her an appreciative smile, glad for once to find someone who shared his birth mother’s language. “Foarte mult,” he said, nodding slowly. “Moartea este inevitabilă. De ce risipa energie temându-se?” Her gaze was pulled away by distant shouting, and he followed it, leaning in a little to add, “Trăiește liber și fără regret. Mai ales în fața pericolului.”

Svala nodded, “we’ll find them either way, okay?” She was trying to reassure the young blonde and ran a hand down her cheek. “Don’t worry. We’ll find them.” But she was worrying, she was scared for all of the people at Rosewood but especially the ones she knew. Of course, they were last seen in the ballroom. “Anya, I need you to stay close to me okay and once we get closer to Rosewood you find people to stay with. It’s not safe out here for you with this fire blazing.” It wasn’t safe anywhere really when it came to Rosewood, especially not for someone that was frightened and worried. “I’m going to go in and see if I can find Emmaline, Saria, and Tatia.” 

.

Fear took up so much space in Anya’s life, she should be used to it by now. But it hurt like a fresh wound every time, even when it wasn’t fear for herself. She leaned into the touch and tried to breathe steadily. If Svala said she would find them, the Anya believed her. They would be safe. The Domme had never let anything slip by her before. “Da, Miss Svala. Okay,” she replied, nodding firmly, already thinking of a few other people she could find that would be safe to stay close to. “Oh! Oh, yes, I being see Tatia! She was in woods, not near fire. I, eh, not sure where she is now, but she is very very safe from fire.” That one bit of good news was nice to give, and she hoped that that would help somehow.

Milo watched her and nodded, “step back. We’ll give it a look and then we gotta get you out of here.” He said shielding her with his arm before kicking the door. It was sturdy as hell but it was going to give eventually and after the second kick he heard a metallic clang, a sign it was basically free but needed just a bit more pressure. He pressed his shoulder against it and used his weight to break the door in the rest of the way. He was the first in the room and he looked around, “nobody is in here. Let’s…” he stopped turning around to see her going through paperwork. 

“What are you doing? I don’t think you should be going through those.” His brows pulling together as he watched her. He had been tricked and the fact that the woman before was not only putting herself in danger but him as well, made his nostrils flare a bit. “Come on, we gotta get out here. You’ve had your fun.”

.

Neve had only gotten this far in life because when push came to shove, she could be a hell of a liar, provided she didn’t let her emotions get the better of her. And in this case, it seemed to have worked quite well. As bad as she felt for duping an otherwise upstanding citizen, the pros heavily outweighed the cons in her eyes. So she did as he said and let him do the literal legwork of kicking the door in. Damn, the guy was sturdy to be able to break a solid piece like that in with only a kick and a little shoving. But she’d congratulate him on his workout routine later, if he still felt like talking to her once he realized she’d used him.

The moment the door was open, Neve slipped through with practiced agility, quick eyes searching out the filing cabinets. She didn’t have time to go digging the way she wanted, but some basic guest and resident files should start her off nicely. Whoever’s office this was, they were fastidious as fuck—everything was labelled and sorted with the utmost precision, and while most of the cabinets were locked (understandably), that was what her lockpicking kit was for. While the man did a quick sweep of the room for any signs of life, Neve made short work of a few targeted filing cabinets and started rifling through them, looking for records.

Ah, the other shoe dropped. He’d realized what was going on. “Yeah, the people who keep this stuff locked up don’t think so either, but here we are,” she quipped, more focused on finding information she could use in the registries than on his hurt feelings. “I’m sorry to do this to you, but if you don’t want to be an accomplice to a crime, you should probably go now.” She started piling the files she intended to keep on the desk behind her, and shot him a resolute but cheery smile. “Thank you, really. You seem like a decent guy. Don’t get caught up in this, yeah? Find someone who deserves saving.”

Bunny was lost. It felt like only moments ago that she had been alone with Tyrell on the balcony, reuniting with Carter’s best and oldest friends after not having seen one another for several years, when suddenly she was all alone in the ballroom, and a sudden explosion had gone off, so terrifyingly loud and startlingly brilliant that her ears were still ringing and her vision felt slightly blurred. She heard the screams claiming what had happened before she realized herself: fire. Seemingly out of nowhere, the ballroom had gone up in flames, and Bunny was suddenly in the middle of an all-out stampede that seemed bound and determined to escape the blaze even if it meant trampling over her in the process. Where was Tyrell? Where was Carter? Had they been close to the blast when it had gone off? Were they hurt? And oh god, what about Adonis?

Having pointedly ignored - and protested - every single joke that had been made at her older brother’s expense for “having such a high blood alcohol content that he should never be allowed near an open flame”, Bunny was now terrified at the idea of Adonis somehow getting in the line of fire. He might have been the oldest between the two of them, but from a young age, Bunny had felt an overwhelming sense of protectiveness when it came to her mess of a sibling, and the thought of him stumbling drunkenly through the fire on his own was far scarier than the thought of facing the flames herself. She was - trapped, though. Nobody would let her leave the ballroom, and she was so small that it was proving to be almost impossible to shove her way out on her own. All the while, she was peeping helplessly in protest, but her demanding little squeaks were hardly heard over the rest of the commotion, and the fire continued to rise, filling the ballroom with smoke and forcing Bunny to double over and cough out what felt like a lung.

Surely Carter was coming for her. He always did; she’d never been in an unsafe situation like this before, and it was all because of her faithful bodyguard. But she had gotten herself frighteningly lost, and now the only person looking for her was - “Adonis!” There, with more purpose than she was ever used to seeing from him, was her older brother. She hadn’t seen him since the beginning of the party, dressed in the Prince Charming costume she had so painstakingly designed for him, but he appeared before her now, like a glimmering rush of gold as he stormed his way through the crowds and rushed determinedly towards her. “Big brother - !” Bunny all but sobbed with relief, calling out for him so that he would hear her as she did her best to maneuver through the throng of bodies as well as the smoldering wreckage surrounding her, and by the time she finally managed to reach Adonis - her best, oldest brother, regardless of his shortcomings - she was crying freely, and she tossed her arms around his neck, burying her face in his chest as she clung to him and thanked every deity in existence that he was still alive.

“I didn’t know where you were, Adonis,” she said tearfully, looking up at him finally with her big, dewy eyes and quivering bottom lip. At the end of the day, she’d forgive him for almost anything, but perishing in a fire? Dying? She’d never be able to forgive him for that. “I was so - so scared that you had been hurt, I couldn’t - “ She squeezed her eyes helplessly shut, then, and bit down fretfully on her lower lip to stop herself from crying even more, and so instead she sniffled, putting on her brave face and allowing herself to hiccup just once more before furrowing her delicate blonde brows together in concentration and reaching down to grasp onto Adonis’s hand. “We - we have to get out of here, okay? We need to find Carter, and - and leave!”

.

Anyone who knew Adonis knew that he was no hero. He ran away from confrontations every day, choosing instead to drown himself in vices so that he could ignore his problems and the people he hurt. But most people didn’t know how little value he placed on his own life, either, and how happily he would endanger himself if it would help someone he loved. Forcing his way into a growing fire against a stampede of terrified partygoers to find his sister was nothing, in his mind, compared to the possibility of losing her, of even a single hair on her head being singed. Nothing and no one mattered more in this moment than Bunny.

“Bunny!” Smoke flooded his mouth and lungs as he yelled, turning her name into a cough that wracked his body and threatened to empty his stomach. Only his single-minded focus on his sister prevented that, and kept him upright long enough to faintly hear his name. “Bunny?!” There, doubled over and coughing, staring up at him with identical eyes to his own and with such an expression of terror on her face that he could hardly stand it. Nothing and no one could have stopped him from reaching her—the crowd parted like waves around the force and speed of his body as he barreled toward his sister and scooped her up in a bear-hug. 

“I’ve got you,” he said, uncaring of how the fleeing patrons around them buffeted his body. He was wrapped around her like a shield, smoke and grime accumulating on his skin and in his hair as he sought to protect her from everything around them. She was quaking, her slender arms tight around his neck and tears streaming down her face, and he felt a surge of uncharacteristic anger at whoever or whatever had started the fire for making his baby sister so goddamned afraid. “I’m fine, Bun, I’m fine. You’re safe, I’ve got you. We’re going to get you out, okay?” Come hell or high water, he was going to get her out.

The feeling of her hand in his was grounding, solid against the wavering world around them that shimmered in the heat. Adonis’s free hand was still wrapped tight around her waist, refusing to budge, to let her go for even a single second until he was sure beyond any doubt that she was safe and sound. “I will find Carter,” he said, his voice more steady and resolute than he could ever remember it being as he swore it like a pledge of honor. “I will find him, but right now, I need to get you out of here.” He brought his hand up—the one she was clinging to—and held her face, making sure she was looking at him, could see how serious he was, how determined he was not to leave her to the flames or to let her bodyguard burn. “When you are safe, I will find him and I will bring him back. But right now, I have to get you out, okay? Stay with me, and don’t let go.”