[edited: 04/06/2018]

Remy had never felt as tired as she did now. She had barely managed to stand in the shower and get herself dressed afterwards without collapsing, and then there was the emotional exhaustion, more crushing than any physical ailment. She had barely been able to talk to Sarah, with the only word that she was able to conjure up at all being sorry. She could not erase the image of her friend's face, how she had looked so disappointed and so angry, how she had said nothing back to her no matter how much Remy tried, until eventually she asked for her to leave her alone and Remy felt she had no choice but to obey. She wondered if Sarah would ever forgive her for what she had done.

She felt like a zombie as she walked down the corridor towards Maksim's room, staring blankly at the flickering lights and patterned walls, her eyes blurring and her knees aching with every step, until finally she reached her destination. She didn't know why she was going to his room and not her own, only that her feet were taking her there and she did not have the strength to argue with them.

She did not knock before she entered and soon realised this was a mistake; Maksim was pulling on a clean shirt, and his entire torso was on display, his skin translucent in the lamplight. Remy couldn't help but blush, her heart racing at the sight of him. He was just as toned as he looked, his muscles so lean and taut that they looked as though they had been carved out of stone. Even full of blisters and burns caused by Nil Lake, he was beautiful. It made her question if the kiss they had shared earlier had even happened, though her lips still tingled with the memory of it.

"I didn't realise that warlocks had gyms," she said by way of breaking the tension, perching on the edge of his bed uncomfortably.

"If you are referring to my astonishing physique," he responded, tugging his t-shirt down quickly, "I am inclined to tell you that it is naturally perfect, just like every other aspect of me, though of course we have gyms. We have eternal life. One is driven to exercise from time to time."

Remy smiled, but it did not quite meet her eyes. She was still worrying about Sarah and Ackmard, and all of the other things she had to think about; her family in the Mortal World, the key, what would happen next, and of course, Maksim. She looked down at her fidgeting hands, feeling the bed sink down under Maksim's weight next to her.

"Remy," he sighed quietly, and even the sound of him saying her name caused her heart to flutter, particularly since she had thought she might never hear him say it again after he had pulled her out of the lake. "She will forgive you. Please forgive yourself."

"I can't." She shook her head, feeling the tears welling up in her eyes again and this time having no energy to hide them. "What kind of friend am I, Max? What kind of person am I to just abandon her like that, without sparing even one thought for her?"

"I wish that you would give yourself a little bit more credit." He took her hand the way that he had in the Central Hall, the pad of his thumb tracing light circles into her skin. His touch felt like electricity, and Remy half-expected for it to leave a permanent scar behind. "You almost died for the sake of that abominable key, and for all of the people it would endanger here if it was to fall into Ackmard's hands. You cannot punish yourself for not saving one person, not when you have done so much to save others, not when this is not even your world to protect in the first place.

"Besides," he dropped her hand quickly, standing up and crossing his arms over his chest with a stern expression, "it is my job to be angry with you, not yours."

Panic bubbled in her as he narrowed his eyes, and she could almost feel the coolness radiating from him. "I'm sorry. It's my fault you were hurt. I wouldn't have been able to forgive myself—"

"That is not what I meant," he interrupted. "What on earth were you thinking when you went up against my brother? You could have died, and for what? Do you have any idea what it felt like, seeing you fall into that lake, not knowing if you were going to come back?"

"I don't understand," she whispered, frowning and standing up so that she felt less like a child being scolded. "I had to make sure he didn't get the key, and he didn't."

"You didn't have to do anything, Remy!" He was shouting now, and Remy found it hard to believe that just a few hours ago he could barely open his eyes. Then again, it was Maksim, and he would always find a way to have the last word, even if it killed him—or nearly killed him. "It was not your fight. If he wanted the key, you should have given it to him! It is not worth your life. Nothing is worth that."

"I won't apologise for making sure that Ackmard didn't get the key, and I won't argue about this anymore. I'm too tired."

There must have been something—the lump in her throat or the heaviness in her voice—that changed his mind, for his expression softened and he lowered his hands to his sides again.

"Besides, you shouldn't have jumped in the lake after me. You could have died, and then who would I have to argue with all the time?" she said, trying to lighten the mood despite the fact that she had been the one to lower it in the first place.

"I'm sure my mother would have no problem filling that role." He sat down again, wincing in pain. Remy couldn't imagine how much it must have hurt to have half of your skin burned away. The medics had certainly calmed the wounds down, but they were still there, and obviously still painful.

"Maybe, but she's not as young and witty as me. You'd get bored."

She shuffled towards the window and looked out onto Astracia. It was almost pitch-black aside from a few dimmed lights in the distance and the purple glow that the night sky cast upon the city. She looked up at the moon and automatically thought of her mother; was she looking at the same moon, or was it not even night where she was? Did normality still exist somewhere out there? She wasn't sure she could quite imagine her everyday life now. Her memories of her own world felt more like a wavering reflection in a clear pool of water. All it would take was a ripple for it to disappear altogether.

She could feel Maksim's eyes on her, burning a hole into her side and she turned around, dispelling her thoughts. She was tired of even thinking now. "I should go. You need to rest."

"I want you to stay." He was looking at her differently to how he had before. In fact, he was looking at her how he had after pulling her out of the lake, as though it might have been the last time he would ever see her.

She looked at him hesitantly, thinking about the fight that had happened last time they had shared a bed. Things were different now, though. He had nearly lost her, and she him, and they were no longer completely ignoring their feelings for one another. Besides, how many more nights did she have with Maksim before they sent her back to her own world?

"Okay."

He pulled the duvet back and she crawled underneath it, glad to finally take the weight off her aching bones. He slid in next to her, his hand finding hers beneath the covers. They were lay on their sides facing one another, their eyes saying something that their mouths could not. It felt as though the world had been turning a thousand miles an hour all day and Remy had not been able to hold onto anything or keep her feet on solid ground and now, finally, it had stopped. She had been steadied by his touch and the way that his eyes watched her so intently. In the centre of the chaos, there would always be him and the way that he could pull her out of it.

"So you have a sister," she said finally, realising for the first time that they had not even talked about it.

"So it seems. I knew bringing home that godforsaken cat was a bad idea."

Remy did not pretend to know what he was talking about. Instead, she squeezed his hand gently. "Are you alright?"

"I don't know. I don't understand. Not yet." He paused, opening his mouth as though there was something that he wanted to say but couldn't. "Remy, I have been alive for a rather long time now. I have seen things, felt things, experienced things, but I have never been more afraid than I was when I saw my brother push you off that cliff. The thought of losing you forever  ... it was agonising. I couldn't bear to continue my life without you in it in some way or another."

She wanted to tell him that she knew, because she had felt the same when she had carried his unconscious body towards the portals, but words had escaped her altogether. Instead, she kissed him. It didn't last as long as the other one had. It was quick, but it was enough. Enough for her whole body to feel as though it had ignited, enough for their bodies to intertwine, with nothing to separate their souls but their own skin.

"You don't have to," she said when she pulled away. "He won't win, Max."

He kissed her again, this time on her forehead, and laced his arms around her body before pulling her into his chest, where his heart thrummed—a reminder that it could still beat even after all of this pain and turmoil and, more than that, a reminder that he was real and he was here, with her.

"I fear that won't matter in the end. We have been made for different paths. They might have crossed momentarily, but eventually they will lead off into different directions."

"Because I'm a silly little mortal girl," she gulped, a tear slipping from the corner of her eye and landing on Maksim's shirt. It was then that Remy realised the cruelness of fate—something she had never particularly believed in until now. Even so, she had always thought that the worst fate in the world was to love somebody who would never love her back. It was her worst fear, and perhaps the reason she had pushed Maksim away. She knew now that she was wrong to fear that; the worst fate in the world was finding somebody whose soul was the same as hers, yet never being able to be with him. The worst fate in the world was knowing that her heart had connected with somebody else's in ways she could never have predicted, but her life never could, knowing that she was not bound to be separated from him because of a lack of love but because of a lack of similarity in every other aspect.

Knowing that she was supposed to be with this man for the rest of her life but never would be was, in fact, the worst fate in the world, perhaps even worse than death itself, for at least in death, she wouldn't feel the constant and insatiable desire to be with him, knowing full well that it could never happen.

"No," he breathed, his fingers tangling themselves in her hair. His voice was strained, and she wondered if he was thinking the same thing as she was. "Because I am a silly little warlock, and I must take the slow, unending path whilst you take the fast one, and neither one is any better than the other."

"I don't want to go home," she admitted, her voice so filled with sadness that even she was shocked at the sound of it. She had been trying so hard for so long to keep herself together, and now here she was, falling apart at the seams, with only Maksim's arms to keep her from breaking completely like a doll whose parts had not been glued together properly.

"Then stay."

He was half-asleep, his breathing having slowed and his words a quiet mumble. He didn't know what he was saying. Just like that, he had left her again, while she stayed, alone with the darkness and her aching bones and her own thoughts.

Alone with the knowledge that soon she would have to find a way to forget about the boy with magic in his veins and silver flecks in his eyes.