EDVA'S EYES WENT straight for the dress in my hand as I stormed into the parlour. I barely paid attention to his clear taken offence, and flung the excuse of, "I am sorry, I cannot wear it. It is...Dreamcatcher etiquette not to upstage the judges."

He did not appear to completely believe me, but that was inconsequential. I did not need him to believe me.

Georgia, whose eyes were red and slightly swollen, refrained from asking me directly and outright about my change in appearance.

"I thought it would go down smoother if I attend the trial in something a little more appropriate for a Dreamcatcher of my current standing," I reasoned. "Perhaps they would show a little mercy to someone who would clearly not intend to stay in the Alpha Plane."

She nodded slowly.

The stairs then creaked under the weight of someone approaching, and I moved for the door.

"Why are you in such a hurry to leave?" Georgia asked; her voice wavering as she stumbled after me. "Do you want to get away from us that badly?"

"No," I said firmly. "That is not —"

"Purple wants to get away from me that badly," Adam then suddenly interrupted me.

I could not move. The very sound of his voice trapped me where I was, and I was powerless. My grip on my bag loosened before it consequently dropped to the floor. It would have been so much simpler to disappear completely without having to speak to him again.

"What did you do this time?" Georgia accused.

"Nothing," Adam answered. "Ask Purple."

I flinched, unnerved by the sound of my name.

When silence ensued, I then realised that I had to say something, so I whispered, "...I hate goodbyes."

It was a limp, pathetic excuse.

"I thought you hated him, too," Georgia remarked.

"I do not," I corrected. "I...cannot."

There was no way for me to hate Adam. Absolutely, he irritated me and offended me at times, but it was impossible for me to have done what I had done the night before having hated the soldier. I did not know what exactly it was that I felt, but no matter how much he could hate me, I returned none of it.

The teenager was quiet for a while, trying to dissect the strange atmosphere. And then she gasped, "God —did you two shag or something?"

No one —not even Edva, though he did not know what the word meant —gave her an answer. And that was likely an answer in itself.

Unable to handle it any longer, my hand flung out to open the door, and my feet darted outside.

The ribbons of pink now covered the visible stratosphere, indicating the lengthly passage of time. Of which I could not afford to waste any more.

I raised my hand, sending out an answer. Letters made of light from the old tongue which creatures of magic spoke swirled into the air.

They barely made it past the treetops; and I barely made it to the magic barrier, before a hand grabbed my arm and caused me to skid to a halt, the letters fading. The quickest way out of here —interrupted.

I whipped around to face a grave Adam. I drew a sharp breath. He stared into my eyes, for once, at the exact same height. I could not tell for what he was searching. I bowed my head, unable to hold his gaze.

"...Your eyes are the same," he murmured. "And your hair." He actually reached to twirl a lock of it.

"And you, are making this more difficult than it should be," I grunted, wrenching my arm free.

"What do you mean?"

"You were not supposed to run out after me," I clarified. "Why would you, considering your silence before? Please feel no obligations. Did you not hear me in there —you can hate me. But do not do this."

He tentatively reached for my hand.

"I can't hate you," he sighed. "Don't you see?"

"But are you not bothered?" I sneered in response.

"I am bothered," he answered immediately.

I frowned, surprised by the answer even though I had anticipated it. "...Why?"

"Do not misunderstand. I am not bothered by you being a man," he clarified.

"Then what is bothering you?"

"I'm a little offended that you would think I would be repulsed by this," he admitted, "considering what I said to you last night about your anatomy."

I guiltily recalled his words. "You are not repulsed?" I asked, gesturing at my stronger and sturdy body.

"Not by you."

"Then why did you not say anything?" I questioned. "Why did you make me feel...offensive?"

I then met his gaze, feeling a little less regretful.

"I apologise," Adam murmured. "I was quiet because I did not know what to say." He then growled softly, attempting to keep his own anger at bay. "Purple, this isn't something that you can spring onto someone. I needed to wrap my head around it."

He had not been ignoring me intentionally?

Though even with this revelation, I was still baffled by his torturous silence. How had he not guessed that by saying nothing, I would assume the worst?

"I did not think about the timing," I admitted. "Everything is happening faster than I had anticipated. And I thought that you knowing now would not matter, because if I do not come back —"

"Don't," he cut me off, and tugged me closer to him. "Don't finish that sentence."

"You cannot pretend that the outcome does not exist," I solemnly pointed out, no longer fighting the notion of having him be so close to me.

"And I cannot face the thought of you dying," he returned, his grip on my hand tightening.

He had already lost so much.

My eyes narrowed as they bore into his, attempting to place the emotion. The warmth returned —at full force, but no matter how tempted I was to press my mouth to his, I did not know what he would think of it.

"I am glad to have known you," I told him, plucking up the courage to smile slightly. "Every bit of you. Even if it was just for this unbelievably short amount of time, I will treasure it. Forever."

I did try to keep it open-ended, but this entire farewell in itself was quite the cessation.

"I owe too much to you," Adam confessed. "There isn't enough time to stay it properly. You've been nothing but generous towards me. You didn't have to bring me here; yet you did. You didn't have to help me to heal from some of my past; yet you did. And...you definitely did not have to lay with me," he added a little self-consciously. I smirked and glanced elsewhere, surprised that I was not blushing. Then he confessed, "...But I am so glad that you did."

I could barely believe that he was fine with this —that the same female he had been with in that too-small bed in the dark was standing before him, as a male. And how he felt was unwavering. He saw me as I was on the inside, not what I appeared to be outwardly.

"I am glad that I did, too," I said.

Adam then paused as he fought another tether of restraint; his muscles straining against his shirt, rippling hypnotically as they flexed. My breath stalled.

He leaned in towards me. His expression showed vague irritation but his eyes blazed with something wild. "...I might have been inclined to kiss you if you hadn't pissed me off instead," he grumbled.

I raised an eyebrow, surprised by his willingness. "But angry embraces are the best embraces," I murmured, glancing at his lips. "Or...so I have read."

The soldier dithered. Those crease lines eased slightly, and his eyebrows arched. He was actually considering it. I tried not to let my anticipation show. Instead, I channelled it into smug malice.

"...You know," I began, knowing full well he could punch me for what I was about to say, "I do not think that the likes of you would actually embrace a male."

I was half right.

His anger simmered. But he did not strike me. Instead, he grabbed the back of my neck, and kissed me.

I stiffened, having thought that he would not do it, but I did not withdraw. He immediately deepened it, parting my lips and completely claiming my mouth. It was rough, and searching; just as into what it had morphed last night from hesitant and careful.

Of course, I still yielded to it and to him —but as soon as I showed that hint of reciprocation, he pulled away, breathing shallowly.

We then stared at each other for a moment afterwards, knowing that whatever would be said next would impact everything about us.

"...Well," I grunted, feigning indifference. "It would seem that you have proven me wrong."

Adam scoffed, but his brown eyes glinted.

I sucked in a breath. There was something about him —something of which I could not get enough. Then he pulled me to him again, as though he had acknowledged my thoughts.

I could have spent the rest of my existence in Adam's hold, blissfully pretending that the rest of the world did not exist. I found that, when faced with a death sentence, I would rather milk all of the time I had with someone who made me important and invincible.

Like I was capable of anything; everything.

Where was I going to find something like this again?

It was a chore to part, to acknowledge that time was not on our side. As if we were to accept that we were giving up. I did not want to let go —and his fingers were still tightly laced with mine. I rested my forehead against his shoulder, drawing out the lingering warmth.

"I have to go," I murmured.

"I...know," he said disjointedly.

But neither of us moved an inch.

"...I promise," I then told him, straightening up, "that if we meet again, the first thing that I will do is kiss you just as you did just now. Like you meant it."

"Like I meant...what?"

His eyes twinkled with daring, and a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

I started, unsure about where my train of thought had been going. What had I meant to imply? I refused to think that I had jabbed at a possible yearn for something more than physical attraction.

Adam was not ready for that.

And whatever it was...I could not give it to him.

"Never mind," I murmured, taking a step backwards. He brushed it off, but it unsettled me. Was I in some twisted way, pleased by the notion of someone loving me? Was I really that bereft of basic compassion?

"I really have to go," I said firmly, turning in the other direction. Yet my feet still hesitated. "...May the gods and Weavers watch over you."

"I don't believe in that sort of thing."

"Well, I do. It makes me feel better," I admitted.

"I think it's better to entrust our fates to ourselves," he remarked, "rather than evading responsibility by holding some higher power in all-controlling esteem."

I stared down at the gathering flecks of snow on my trainers, and said nothing. I had the suspicion that he was not referring only to this matter of faith.

I had to escape this. I raised my hand to the sky again, never so thankful to see flittering deep pink light, and was uninterrupted in my attempt to send a response this time. I thought it would be a relief, but it left me with a hollow sense of accomplishment.

As though Adam choosing not to stop me translated into him enduring the notion of my demise.

The response was quick —the Dreamcatcher Authority wasted no time in granting me direct transport to the Alpha Plane. Blue clouds formed at my feet, and swirled in a column that I knew would soon consume me. I looked up and met Adam's solemn gaze.

I was not afraid. I was not apprehensive. With all that had happened in my life up until that moment, I had never felt more satisfied. I had never been sure that I had done what I had wanted; defied my upbringing and experienced everything for which I had yearned.

I had lived. I had made connections —true, that keeping to myself had been forcibly taken from me, but I did not regret meeting those whom I had met. Not even the Wytch Kynes, or those Elves.

I wished that Georgia would learn to tame the rage within her, and that she would fully appreciate being a child for as long as it lasted.

And the soldier. I had whole books about what I truly wanted to say to him —some of which he needed to hear. Perhaps our encounter had been destined to be this brief. It would feel like eternity. He had given me a little piece of what it felt to be human.

"Goodbye, Adam," I said, for the last time, before my surroundings shifted from snow to blackened ash.