The longer the storm went on, the more my stomach twisted itself into knots.

Panic rose and fell with each crack of thunder, and Nova's own unease seemed to pulsate around the room, infiltrating everybody else. Part of me wanted to speak to someone, if only to pass the time while the rain slashed against the window. And yet the other – more powerful – part of me dismissed talking as the last thing I wanted to do. It was easier to retreat into myself, shrinking into the corner with my back against the wall, wishing for it to be over soon.

I kept looking for Art, my neck twisting every time I thought I heard the creak of the door, just in case I was about to see him walk in. If anything, it was Nova's concern that had planted the seed of fear into my own head. The panic in her voice had ignited my own, until I was only capable of envisioning worst case scenarios, in which trees fell and crushed buildings and left Art bleeding in the cold.

I was doing a good job of holding onto my brooding, miserable mood – or at least projecting it to ensure no one would approach me. Left alone, I could simmer in peace, relishing in the self-pitying perspective that the world was against me.

Unfortunately, Maggie wasn't about to let that happen.

At some point in the evening, somebody had found a stash of candles, which were now dotted around the room in an attempt to give out some light. The darkness still held most of its power, but now I could faintly make out faces – and therefore I soon realised who had sidled up next to me.

"Are you alright, dear?"

Despite everything, I managed a smile, if only because her concern was so unprompted, and yet completely genuine. "I'm fine, thank you. Just waiting it out."

With her greying hair and face streaked with lines, she had a gentle look that seemed to warm everything around her. Good nature radiated from her, working its way in, even when I didn't want to let it.

"It's always worrying when they hit so suddenly." She reached out, and before I could say anything, her hand landed on top of my closed palm. "I understand."

I thought back to what Nova had said earlier. "How's Sylvie?"

Maggie paused. "She's okay. She likes to pretend she's not scared of anything – which is true, when it comes to most things. She'd probably bungee jump from the top of The Shard if only someone gave her a rope. But times like these... well, we all have to take a little extra care of her."

For a moment, I didn't say anything. I couldn't help feeling sorry for Sylvie. Since the rain had started, I'd been so wrapped up in my own problems that I'd barely spared a thought for anyone else. Now I realised how awfully selfish that was.

"Where is she now?"

"She's with Nova. She always likes to make sure Sylvie's okay, and she's got a real knack for making her feel better. I do my best, but... well, I'm not sure my words have quite the same impact as Nova's."

I didn't know what to say. Whatever I was thinking was certainly not fit to be said aloud, especially to someone like Maggie. She was always so full of respect; it was hard to imagine she'd ever said a bad word about anyone in her life. I was a sinner by comparison.

However, amidst my silence, Maggie seemed to sense there was something going on in my head. "She talks about you a lot, you know. Good things. How glad she is to finally have you here, and how she can stop worrying about you being trapped there in New London."

There was no reason for her to lie – and yet I found it impossible to fully believe her.

"Honestly," she said, reading my scepticism. "It's been a long road to this point. She's had you on her mind for longer than you know. For so long, all she talked about was getting Astrid out of there."

"Really?"

"Really." Maggie smiled. "And we're all glad to have you here, too. It's a relief to everyone knowing that you're not stuck in that place anymore... and you're safe."

It was strange, how she chose to use that word in a situation like this. With panic etched into faces all around us, and the storm threatening to break through the roof, safe wasn't the first word that sprung to mind. And yet the way Maggie said it, with gentle conviction that seemed to invite trust, made me feel that little bit better.

"Thank you," I told her. "Really."

"Oh, any time. I can't have you sitting here in the corner looking so sad – it just goes against my nature. And if I can cheer you up even slightly, then... well, I consider that a success."

I smiled. "That's a nice way to live."

"I do my best. It keeps me going, especially on days like these." She looked out across the room, as if now her work was done here, she had to search for where her help might be needed next. "Oh, look – Erica's found some more candles. I'd better go see if she wants any help lighting them."

Despite usually being a slow mover, she was on her feet quickly, already heading for the other side of the room by the time I got the chance to say anything more. I guessed she wasn't one for big shows of appreciation. I'd said my thanks, however quietly, and that was enough for her.

With no clock in the room, I couldn't tell how much time had passed since Art set out to check the generator, but it seemed like hours. In the end, I found myself assessing how worried I should be by searching for Nova. When she was deep in conversation with somebody else, her attention captured by other matters, I could breathe a sigh of relief. But when I looked over and noticed she was pacing again, my heart started pounding.

In here, it was impossible to know how bad the storm was. I could hear the thunder and see the flashes of lightning and sheets of rain, but that didn't come close to being out there in the middle of it. I couldn't even imagine what Art was battling.

He was a tough guy, who could more than handle himself. But that didn't mean he didn't deserve worrying about.

Everyone deserved that here.

It was tempting to seek out Nova and ask if she knew anything, but the look on her face served as answer enough. With each passing moment, the worry intensified, transforming into the type of gripping sensation that was likely making her feel sick to her stomach.

But then, suddenly, it all changed. As my eyes darted across the room again, searching for her in the dark, it became much easier. A brief whirring sound was followed by a flood of light: the power was back on.

"He did it!" I heard Erica yell, to be met by several cheers. "Art to the rescue, like always."

Just like that, the smile returned to Nova's face. At times, it was so wide it seemed like it would split her face clean in half, but there was something genuine about it. The expression radiated relief, until it was impossible for me not to feel it too.

And when he burst through the door, pushing it open with such force it bounced off the wall behind it, and stepped inside dripping wet, a second wave of relief hit us all that much harder.

Although not quite as hard as Nova.

I'd never seen her throw herself at someone with such enthusiasm; her arms looped around his neck without a thought for his rain-soaked clothes. I heard Art chuckle, but she didn't let up. All I could see was her fiery braid snaking down her back as her head buried in the crook of his shoulder. After a couple of seconds, his arms wrapped around her too.

The sight should've been sweet, seeing them locked in their own embrace.

But then my eyes wandered across the room, and it wasn't long before they locked with Jace's. And as he stared back at me, his expression unreadable, it was obvious the situation was far from simple.

***

Evening soon turned into night, and the storm showed no sign of breaking. For as long as it held onto this fierce energy, it would continue raging overhead.

This left us with no choice but to camp out in the dining hall.

The tables and chairs were pushed back and stacked at the edge of the room, opening up bare floor space in the middle. It didn't look like a particularly forgiving surface to sleep on, so I felt a wave of relief when Nova returned from a store cupboard with the first bundle of sleeping bags in her arms. From that point on, the prospect of the night ahead started to seem a little less bleak.

The sleeping bags were passed around, and before long, a bundle of material had landed in my arms. The thought of being away from my bed for a night wasn't much of a loss; I was fed up of the way the springs of the ancient mattress dug into my back and creaked deafeningly with every movement. A night on the floor wouldn't be a major downgrade.

In my opinion, the most appealing option was a spot in the corner. One in particular had caught my eye, near the window – and I was just about to head over and claim it when the hand landed on my shoulder.

When I spun around, I was faced with Jace.

"Hey," he said, his voice low, unwilling to give anything away. He held up his own sleeping bag. "Fancy setting up camp with me?"

Caught off guard, I struggled to find my voice. "Uh... sure."

He managed a small smile, before gently prising the sleeping bag from my hand. I watched as he unrolled the material, fluffing it in the air before laying it as flat as possible on the ground. Then came the second, which was laid right next to mine, no more than a couple of inches' gap between them.

I didn't know what he was doing, where this suggested we stood. With so many words still to exchange to begin to make sense of earlier, I was terrified of putting a foot wrong. Following his lead, I lowered myself to sit down on the sleeping bag.

With our backs against the wall, our shoulders were agonisingly close, brushing gently with each movement bold enough to broach the separating inch. I rested my head back against the bare bricks, staring straight ahead, but I could see Jace looking at me out of the corner of my eye.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "After earlier, I mean."

I let out a long, drawn-out breath. "Yeah, not too bad."

"Nova didn't give you too much of a hard time, did she?"

I didn't even know what to tell him. Words couldn't convey the intensity of that moment, nor did I want to relive it that way. "It wasn't so bad," I told him. "Things are already about as weird as they can get between us. I don't think they could get much worse."

He must've sensed a layer beneath my words, because his eyes flickered warily over my face, and his voice softened. "I'm sorry."

I glanced over, giving him a strange look. "What are you apologising for?"

"I don't know. I just thought... well, what happened at the lake was kind of on me, and I hate to think it's just made everything a hundred times worse."

"You haven't," I assured him. "That kiss... it wasn't anything to do with Nova. I wanted it to happen. And I can't regret something I've been wanting all this time."

"You have?"

"Of course, Jace." I made an effort to lower my voice, conscious that someone around us would overhear, though it seemed everyone around us was absorbed in their own conversation. "From the moment we bumped into each other at that launch party, there's been something about you. Something that keeps you on my mind, no matter how hard I try to keep my distance. And maybe it was completely the wrong thing to do, to go with you to the lake, but given the opportunity to go back in time... I'd do it all over again."

He was looking at me closely, and in that moment, I wished more than anything that I could read beyond the glaze over his eyes.

"But," I continued, "it's not that simple. And we both know that, no matter how much we try to ignore the obvious staring us right in the face."

His head ducked, and our eye contact was broken. "Right."

"I just... I can't do this without knowing. I can't walk into something like this completely blind. Before anything else, I have to know what's going on with you and Nova."

For what felt like an eternity, he didn't say anything, leaving enough time for it to start to seem like the conversation was going nowhere. If it served any purpose, it would only be to drive a wedge further between us. He ran a hand through his hair, pushed the broken glasses up his nose, and then spoke.

"It's complicated," he said. He'd started fiddling with his hands, and I watched him interlock his fingers and rub the skin on his thumb over and over again. "As in, so complicated that I can't even begin to understand what's going on sometimes."

It seemed like there were more words in him, poised to escape given the right encouragement, so I waited.

"Sometimes it makes sense," he continued. "But other times... I just don't know. If I don't know what's going on in my own head, how am I supposed to know what's going on in real life?"

Another pause. I was sure the atmosphere could've been cut with a knife.

"She's different," he said. "And I know that's to be expected. I know you can't expect someone to be exactly the same person after you've spent two years apart, but... I don't know. Sometimes this feels on a whole other level."

My lungs had become tighter, anticipation making it difficult to breathe. "I know," I murmured. "I know exactly what you mean."

"And, I mean, I've probably changed too. I can't begin to describe how much my life has changed in two years, so who's to say she doesn't feel the same way about me? I'm sure even you wouldn't recognise the person I was back then. I just don't know how you're supposed to get over this feeling, the one where... it's two strangers, trying to mould themselves back into what they used to be, in a desperate attempt to fit together."

I was stunned. He'd described it so eloquently, in so few words, that I could almost feel it myself. And it hurt. It hurt to think about, that something that once meant so much could turn into nothing – just like that. The notion was terrifying, only serving to remind me of the temporary nature of everything around me.

I had to hold onto whatever I could. Because, in one instance, everything could change.

I had an inkling, but there was still no definitive answer to the question playing on my mind. "So you're not...?"

He managed a weak smile, one that creased his face in the right places but somehow managed to look melancholy. It was hurting him more than he let on. As I was starting to learn, the invisible wounds cut the deepest. "I don't think so," he said quietly. "Not anymore."

Something about it cut through me, and an uncomfortable lump formed in my throat. This was supposed to be what I wanted. The idea of Jace and Nova together had made me feel uneasy from the moment I found out she was Eden, and at times it felt like I'd been searching forever for the confirmation that there was nothing there. Hearing it now, however, in the tone of voice that made it seem like his world had cracked right through the middle, was completely different.

Without thinking, I reached out and placed my hand on top of his, both of them resting atop his knee. There was an undeniable jolt of energy that came with the touch of our skin that I tried my best to play down. If he felt it too, he did the same.

"You're going to be okay," I told him, with certainty that surprised me.

When he looked over, our eyes met with burning intensity of a new kind. "Yeah," he said. "We both are."

----------------------

Hi, guys! I'm finally back with a new chapter, and I'm so sorry for the week's delay. Truthfully, it's been a tough couple of weeks with regards to this story. I had some feedback that it was moving pretty slow -- which I realise now is true, after taking a step back and looking at the plot. It knocked my confidence a little, but I've used the time to take a breather and have another look at where this story's going, and it now feels a little straighter in my head. From now on, I'm going to try pick up the pace, and I just hope I get some of my mojo back.

With a plot revamp comes more intense editing (and writing from scratch, because what I wrote for NaNoWriMo is almost entirely different). I would love to be able to keep up with weekly updates, and I'm going to try my hardest, but we'll have to see how it goes. Full-time work has an annoying habit of taking up all my writing time...

So, what are you guys thinking of the story so far! As always, I appreciate all of your feedback -- good and bad. I wouldn't be here without you guys.

Until next time!

- Leigh