“Repeat after me …”
My dress is beautiful.The stitching is fine work, the jewels catching and holding the lamplight, radiating a soft glow.The rich red embroidered gown weighs me down in ten layers, no doubt Louis’s amusing game to deter me from fleeing.
Ridiculous.There’s nowhere else I want to be.
Sterling stands on my left, severe in all black, his sword hanging at his side.He’s handsomer than I’ve ever seen him, but it’s not the work of cloth and soap.It’s the naked adoration in his gaze—a sight I’ve seen before, but never known how to interpret.
We complement each other.Sterling’s strength, my passion, Lucky’s fearlessness.
With our hands intertwined, we recite our vows in unison.The truth in every word binds us together, for now and eternity.
“What I feel will last beyond flesh, beyond breath, beyond life.When every light in the sky fades out of view, I will continue to be guided by my unending love for you.”
THE END
* * *
start over
“No,” Lucky says, “we don’t have to be saviors.”
“Standing here and doing nothing is one step down from being the bad guys.”
“That’s not fair.Of course I want to help, but I don’t think unnecessarily dying helps anyone.”
Love.Protection.Community.It used to be understood as a basic human trait.Now I’m not sure what is base about humans beyond our ability to surprise ourselves.
“Then stay.I’ll go by myself.”
He blinks himself into my path, stopping me.“Oh, no, no, no, no.Christ, what is it about you journos?I’m cursed to want you, and you’re cursed to break my heart.”
He pushes both hands into his hair.I don’t have time for his internal struggle; there are lives at stake, and if I’m on my own, I need to leave now.
Lucky huffs.“I’m just a musician.I write down my feelings, and sometimes, it sounds good.I’m not a bloody hero.”
“You don’t need to be,” I counter.“I’m asking you to be a good man.”
“Fuck it.But if I die, don’t let Bentley fucking Michaels anywhere near these guitars.That prat’s had his eye on ’em for years, and I’d rather get up close and personal with his moldy balls than let him touch my babies.”
Later, when all this is done, I’m going back to the shop and asking Moira for something to remove that image from my head.
“I promise.Can we go now?”
* * *
What are you waiting for?
let’s do this(go to 66)
go back(go to 42)
Sterling leaves.
Hal is twitchy, the way Louis used to be when he was hiding something.Alarm bells are ringing in my head.He darts his eyes over to the computer again.Something is definitely wrong.
While he’s distracted, I pull my knees into my chest, hugging with one arm.Nothing to see here, just a girl getting comfortable in the middle of a hostage situation.
The recorder is still in my pocket, and if Sterling were here, I can imagine the little look of self-congratulations he’d wear.I argued that having my phone out would look less suspicious while talking to Tegan, but I can see now that he was right.Finding the recording button is as easy as reaching into my pocket and pressing.No unlocking a screen, no finding an app, no concern I’ll accidentally press stop through the material of my shirt.
