AN:// Hi my loves! I'm so sorry for the disappearing act of a month, lots has happened! Firstly, my incredible sister gave birth to an amazing baby boy and I became an aunt—something I've literally dreamed of my entire life. He came early and surprised us all, so I've been busy with him and buying all the things I want and spoiling him! 

Secondly, it was my birthday and my partners birthday so we went away for a couple of nights, we actually stayed in a tiny home beside Balmoral Castle... on the day and weekend that the Queen died. So, safe to say it wasn't as quiet and peaceful as we predicted, but we still had  lovely time getting away and taking a break for a couple of days! 

I've also been working a bunch to help out with a staffing issue, and I think I wore myself down between work and trying to get this book written before the wattys. I definitely needed a little time to relax and plan, and now I'm back!

Also some super exciting news — along with being a wattpad ambassador, I'm now a wattpad creator too!! I'm so chuffed and honoured to be invited by wattpad and i can't wait to share things with you guys. 

Since the last time I uploaded this has gotten over a hundred reads, so thank you so much! 

There's only around 6/7 chapters left, and then I might take a break from this and go back to another series of mine... one I think some of you are waiting for! 

Hope you enjoy, all my love x 

Bonnie decided showers were magical.

She knew nothing else that could calm your nerves or soothe your pain like the hot water beating down onto your skin. It warmed her all the way through, and sucked some of the sadness right through her pores, letting the steam float it away like a lost thought. By the time she had stepped out and wrapped herself in one of fluffy towels by the sink, her lungs felt as though they were twice the size.

It had done little for the words Gremory had spoken, however; they remained sufficiently at the forefront of her mind. She knew he was drunk, and that his words were most likely influenced by the way he was feeling, after all it wasn't as if he'd said anything jarringly hurtful. Not really. More like the truth.

Flicking on the kettle, Bonnie sat at the edge of her bed, waiting for it to boil. She was determined to keep herself cosy, and a cup of tea always made you feel better. That was just a scientific fact.

Although, she wasn't sure a cuppa would work for Gremory. He might need something a little stronger in the morning. The physical repercussions would be bad enough, but along with the shame that his words would bring him, he was going to have a rough day. If daemons felt shame, that is.

Bonnie winced as she thought of Kimaris and his puke covered jacket. He'd certainly looked unimpressed, but she couldn't help but think of how calm he had reacted, choosing to look after his friend instead of shout or blame him. Maybe he was saving it for tomorrow, the scolding would definitely hurt more then.

A sigh came to her lips as she thought of the way he'd called her a worthless human not even forty-eight hours ago, but yet was so quick to step in tonight. Maybe she was changing his opinion. She liked that he wasn't always scowling at her anymore, his smile was much nicer to see.

The kettle pinged, and she quickly got up to make her tea, trying to rid herself of thoughts of Kimaris, but they kept trickling in. Of course he was being nicer to her, it was probably just a way for them to make sure she helped. That's the only reason they were keeping her around, wasn't it?

Bonnie stirred the teaspoon around as her mind drifted to the hill. She had never had that feeling before; the jolt of electricity that had shot through her feet at the touch of his chest. Had it been that long since she'd felt a man that her body was reacting like this? Making her think that there was more to it than simply flesh on flesh?

Knocking herself from her daze she dropped the spoon and shook her head, snorting at the stupidity of herself.

"Bonnie you're losing it," she muttered, bringing the mug to her mouth and blowing on it gently. "Getting worked up over a hand."

As much as she tried to laugh it away, her eyes still found their way over to the navy jacket lying over the chair in the corner of her room. Gremory had said that the gift was unlike him, but perhaps he had just never seen him around a human before. Eyael even found it surprising that he could put up with her company, maybe what she had felt was nothing more than disguised disgust.

But now she had seen him truly angry. At the club he had been mean, aggressive even, in the way he had insulted her. But tonight... tonight was something different. Gremory had touched a nerve that seemed to awaken something in him. Something much darker. The way he had acted to her was a fairytale compared to that. Did that mean that it wasn't true hatred?

"For god's sake," Bonnie groaned, putting her cup down. She couldn't stand staying in the room anymore, she clearly couldn't be here with her thoughts. She only hesitated a second before marching over to the chair, and pulling the coat on over her pyjamas that Gremory had got from her flat.

"I need to cool down," she whispered, zipping up it up so it covered her bare legs. "Switch my brain off for a second."

She slid on her shoes and picked up her mug, making sure to not spill anything on herself as she carefully made her way out. As she shut the door behind her gently, she paused in the hallway, looking at the room opposite. They were the only people staying here, so she knew it was their room, but she resisted the urge to knock on the door and check on them. They were perfectly capable on their own; she had no reason to.

Shuffling her feet, she left the cabin, relief hitting as the cool wind greeted her. It wasn't too cold, sure she probably should have had trousers on, but she wasn't going to stay out for very long. Just enough time to stop the racing thoughts she had and make it possible for her to go to sleep.

She hadn't seen the front of their accommodation properly before, she'd been too preoccupied with getting inside before her poker face had broken, but now she could appreciate it. The small lights on the front lit the beautiful decking that lined the front, and the steps that led down to the loch below. Down on the grass there were four garden chairs, and Bonnie quickly made her way down to them, looking forward to listening to the water.

It was so peaceful here. There were no other sounds, no street lights buzzing or cars driving past. No drunk people stumbling or shouting obscenities at each other. Here she could practically taste solitude, but it was sweet, not the bitter twang she was used to.

It was only once she'd sat down and placed her drink on the table beside her that she looked up.

And suddenly she couldn't breathe.

The sky was an array of stars. Glittering across the darkness like fairy lights strung up they dazzled in their design, each one bringing a new gasp from Bonnie's lips. There was nowhere she could look that did not have the intricate designs plastered over it. The colour was so deep, and the way they twinkled against it so brightly made her want to reach out and touch them. Like glitter spilled on to the ocean, spreading out as far as the eye could see. It wasn't quite Milky Ways or the Aurora Borealis, but the simplicity of it was so undeniably beautiful.

The cold was forgotten. The pain from earlier numb. All she could do was remind herself to blink as tears sprung from her eyes, dripping onto her cheeks like gentle rain drops.

Her mind swam with the memories. The ones she had pushed aside all day but now could not be deterred any longer. They washed through her like the rippling water below, and even the moon's reflection wobbled with the force. Memories of a past life, one she no longer had any connection to. She sat there for a while, letting them take control.

"Much easier to see them here than a club smoking area, right?"

Kimaris stood at the bottom of the stairs from the lodge, resting against the handrail that accompanied it. His gaze wasn't turned upwards like her. When their eyes met, the soft smile he'd prepared faltered, and he quickly shot up, retreating a step.

"Fuck—sorry, I didn't know you were crying," he blurted in panic. "I can go back inside."

"No, no!" Bonnie replied, stopping him mid turn. She quickly wiped the tears with her sleeve and threw on a smile, ignoring the way he awkwardly tried to not look at her. How long had she been sitting there for? "Stay, please. I was just a bit overwhelmed."

He debated it for a moment, hesitant to interrupt. But then he nodded once before making his way over to her. She shuffled up in her chair, grabbing onto her drink for some sort of distraction. Blowing it made the silence more comfortable.

He did not sit in the chair next to her; he left one between them, easing into it slowly. He was no longer wearing his jacket that she had come accustomed to seeing him in, instead he wore a purple t-shirt, the material tightly stretched across his body.

"Are you not cold?" Bonnie asked, looking down at the black shorts on his legs.

"No." He leaned back, struggling with the mechanism of the chair for a second before it released. "We don't feel temperatures unless they're extremes. Everything in between feels mostly the same."

That explained quite a bit then. She went back to blowing on her cup of tea.

"Are you not cold?" Kimaris asked after a moment, making her smile.

"No, someone got me this really thick jacket, and it's pretty good at keeping me warm."

"Ah, sounds like a smart person then."

"He thinks he is."

The two of them continue to stare at the stars, neither one looking to the other as the sounds of the water gently lapping against rocks filled the air. Bonnie was glad of the company, she'd meant it when she asked him to stay. It had been a long time since she'd been able to make that decision, even if it was only silence, she was grateful to not be alone.

In the white light of the moon some birds float down the stream, swimming languidly across the tides that rocked them side to side. Nature seemed to bustle with life at night here, it was nice to see serene animals and not drunkards looking for a fight.

"Loch Ness was named after the water nymph, Ness. She loved animals," Kimaris told her out of nowhere, watching the creatures glide. "She was quite the character. Gremory has some funny stories about her, you should ask him sometime."

As much as she loved the idea that there was magic in the loch and wanted to know all about the true wonders of the world, the mention of him brought her thoughts back to before. And her nerves prickled as she thought about the blonde.

"Is Gremory okay?"

"He will be, nothing some sleep won't solve." He sighed. "As for my jacket, we'll see."

Bonnie nodded and sipped her tea, bunkering further down into her chair as she lifted her legs to tuck under. The far-off sounds of animals in the trees nearby rang through the crisp air, making the night crinkle with life.

"Are you okay?"

He asked gently, testing if she wanted to talk about it or not. Usually, she wouldn't let her tongue curl around a single word, refusing to admit that anything was wrong, or that she was melancholy about the past. But whether it was the openness of the water, or the vast possibility of the sky, something made her mind open, and her thoughts flood through. They glided along the ripples of water and danced behind her eyes, shining in the moonlight and twirling through the grass that bent beneath them.

"The last time I saw stars like this was when I was ten," she said quietly, feeling his body tense to the side of her. "It was also the last time I ever felt like I had a family."

It was a good thing he'd left a chair between them; it made it much easier to speak.

"I don't know a single thing about my parents; not names nor where I come from. Just the classic tale of an abandoned child who was unwanted from the minute she arrived. Eventually I was put in the care of a woman named Abigail, she was only meant to be a temporary fix, but I ended up staying there until she died when I was eighteen. She wasn't overly affectionate, or even that supportive of dreams or desires. But she provided somewhere safe and warm to live, and she was pleasant to be around. She enjoyed puzzles and Sudoku, and made probably the most bland dinners ever, but she tried at least. For an older woman, she did well on her own. She taught me how to be self sufficient, and to get used to my own company. She'd done it for a long time, and it didn't change even with children in the house."

Bonnie traced the outline of the shapes in the stars, her voice far away with her thoughts. She didn't know if Kimaris was actually listening, but she could feel him there despite the distance between them.

"I was one of three that she took on. We were all young girls of the same age, but with different stories. Emily's parents had died in a horrible accident, and she had no relatives willing to take her on or who could be contacted. Bea's mother was incarcerated, but we were never told the specifics. Just that Bea could no longer see her. We all came in the same six months, young enough not to remember any different than the rickety house that became our home. The three of us never used to wonder too much about our old families, we had each other. There was no need to."

She could remember the auburn colour of Emily's curls, and the deep rose tint of Bea's cheeks. How the two of them used to hug her from each side and roll on the floor with laughter, pretending to be a sandwich. The way they would all climb onto each other's beds and fall asleep telling stories of worlds that were hidden to the naked eye. Back then, she'd thought the word was endless, and the possibilities within it even more so. It was easy to do with people at your side who longed for nothing more than the adventure that pulled at your soul. That made life worth living.

"We used to pretend that we were going on voyages, that we would travel to far-off places in search of magic and mystery." Bonnie grinned, remembering the costumes they'd wear and the maps they'd draw. "Emily was the athletic one—she'd train for how to fight the monsters, which often resulted in breaking things that we'd have to work to repay back to Abigail. And Bea was the smart one—she'd plan out our journey and decide on what we should bring and who we should trust. They made life so fun."

Bonnie could feel the tears coming back, but she pushed them down. What good were they? She'd spent years crying about this, there was nothing new to make her feel this way. Why was it now that she struggled to contain her emotions? One look at the stars reminded her why.

"And what were you?" Kimaris asked, snapping her from her spiral of self pity. "Emily was the athletic one, and Bea the smart one, but what about you?"

"Me?" Bonnie dropped her eyes, her finger trailing along the rim of the cup. What had she been—isn't that the question she'd asked herself every day since they'd left? In the presence of such amazingly talented friends, what did she add to the equation?

"I was the creator," she mumbled, remembering the girls smiling faces when she'd tell them a new creature she'd thought of. "I would come up with the magical places we visited and the people we met, I'd tell them who their characters were and what legend we were following. It was just basic though, without them it wouldn't have been very good."

Kimaris stretched out his legs beside her, his chest vibrating with low chuckles. Bonnie looked at him in confusion, growing self-conscious of sharing.

"It's funny, I don't think I've ever heard any creator say anything different from that—you're all so modest about your talent. Always crediting the success to other people and the changes they make, but really without you there never would have been anything to begin with."

He still had his eyes closed, and the matter-of-fact way he said it made the words hit her with strength. He was a daemon, he most likely knew many creators, so him meaning it meant a lot to her. If only he had been there to tell her that all those years ago.

"I suppose," she mumbled, looking back out to the water. "But unfortunately it wasn't a skill so highly thought of elsewhere. As we got older, Emily could throw herself into sports, and Bea into classes, but me? I just never truly brought my head down from the clouds I guess. All I wanted was to act out another story, or create a new world for us to explore. I became Abigail's least favourite with how many of my teachers were complaining about my lack of attention. And I became the least favourite with adopting families too."

The eyes of couples who didn't want her stared back in the night sky. Dead and uncaring, they viewed her with upturned noses and judgemental sneers, high above and unreachable to her tiny hands. She'd always imagined a woman who gave that warm motherly smile as the person who picked her, but she never came. Not for her anyway.

"Emily was the first to get adopted. They were a middle-aged couple who had lost their daughter. They thought they were too old to try again by the time they'd healed. But they saw Emily competing at a sports day that they'd attended with their friend and thought she was amazing. When they found out she was in foster care, it was only a couple weeks before they put the request in. Bea only stayed about a month after she left—a family looking to adopt saw her almost perfect academic sheet and she quickly got snapped up as soon as the opportunity came through."

They had both been so excited, so thrilled that a family wanted them. Bonnie didn't understand it really, she would have much rather stayed just the three of them in their own little world. She had no reason to look for a new family, not when no one wanted her. She could stay with the one they'd created, the one where she felt accepted and loved.

"In a matter of months I'd gone from having two sisters, to none," she whispered, the soft pat of her tears dripping onto her jacket in a slow rhythm. "Two nights before Emily left, Abigail let us go camping. It was something we usually only did for birthdays, but I'm sure she could see how much being apart was going to break us all. She had a sister who had a little house in the countryside, and we'd go there and camp on the hill beside it while she stayed with her. It was always our favourite place. Somewhere we could imagine what lay beyond the stars. We sat staring at them for hours, just holding each other's hands. Because even though we were young, we knew. We knew that life was changing, and we'd no longer have each other to hang on to."

She remembered how they cried. The promises they made—that they'd never forget one another, that they'd always be right there ready to help. That they would go their lives still intertwined with one another for eternity. She'd believed it too, because to her she'd find nothing to compare. But like all things, that faded. It was a childish dream that she grew out of.

"And that was the last time I properly saw the stars," Bonnie concluded, embarrassment tinging her words with how much of a tangent she had gone on as she brought herself back down to earth. "A little long winded, I know."

"It was? It didn't feel like it," Kimaris replied, and Bonnie expected to hear it lined with teasing, but he sounded genuine in his response. "You must still have your knack for stories after all."

He reminded her of moonlight tonight; his eyes the colour, and his voice reflected to her a light that would otherwise be blinding. She felt her nerves ebb, and warmth try to brush itself onto her cheeks, although it struggled against the nippy breeze. Had that been a compliment?

"Thanks," she smiled, putting her empty cup down. "Maybe I should have used it for something then, instead of doing nothing with my life."

She grimaced as she heard her own words, the joking tone she'd mean to apply totally missing. Kimaris' easy smile dropped too, like a rock to the bottom of a pool. Why couldn't she have kept her mouth shut? Why did she have to ruin the mood? She'd already lamented about her childhood sadness for long enough, why couldn't she have just moved on.

The chair creaked as Kimaris moved, no longer lying back to look at the stars. His thick brows were pulled together in thought, and he watched the long stems of heather leaning at the edge of the water.

"Guilt is a strange thing for us. Daemons, gods, whatever species you want to pick. Gremory is still figuring out how to deal with his. It's been pretty unsuccessful so far if you couldn't tell."

"Oh no, I don't need—" Kimaris cut off Bonnie as she tried to backtrack, giving her a knowing look that made a shy smile flit onto her lips.

"I know you could tell how drunk he was, but I don't think you understand how much of what he said wasn't about you. It's not an excuse, and you should make him grovel for an apology tomorrow, but I just need you to know that so much of that had nothing to do with you."

The concerned look lining his face could have been for her or Gremory. She wasn't sure which, but it made his finger tap the arm of his chair in a quick staccato. She hadn't thought about what was going through the minds of the boys the last few days, well maybe not Gremory's at least, but now she realised that she'd been overlooking a big part of it.

"Amdusias." Kimaris nodded at her statement. "He's feeling guilty about Amdusias?"

"More than he's willing to admit," he explained, his leg crossing over the other. "At first when he was banished, Grem went a little off the rails, so to speak. Binging, experimenting, convincing people to do life threatening things for the entertainment... the usual, you know."

Bonnie nodded but internally she questioned that statement—or at least one part of it.

"At first he didn't go to him because he was terrified of where he was, and thought he could get him out. But as time went on that changed into being scared to see Amdusias. The longer he waited, the more time he had been down there, and the longer he had to turn on Gremory and hate him for abandoning him. It's not the Abyss that Gremory fears now. It's who's waiting for him there... or who's not." Kimaris turned to Bonnie, leaning forward on his knees so that he could look straight into her eyes, making her heart leap at the sudden change. "That's why I need you to know that it wasn't about you. Whether he was trying to comfort himself by rationalising that it hadn't been a long time, or whether he was just deflecting the fear of having not been able to accomplish his goal in the last couple hundred years, I don't know. But I promise, those words weren't meant for you. Not really."

Although she had felt the sting of truth in the words before, Kimaris' explanation helped to lift her sorrows a little. Perhaps it was the smooth way he spoke and the hardness in his eyes that allowed her to have faith in his reasoning, but the weight on her shoulders eased and she no longer could feel tears knocking to be let through.

"Thank you for saying that," she smiled, letting her thoughts of sadness slip away as she leaned in closer too. "I'm sure he didn't mean what he said to you either."

At that, Kimaris sighed and cracked his neck, the calming aura he'd been projecting now tense. It wasn't the reaction she'd been expecting, she just wanted to comfort him back.

That's what you get for talking about something you have no idea about, she scolded herself internally.

"It's not just Gremory that feels guilt," he said, his voice controlled but shaking with something illegible. "Living for so long comes with its own kind of curse. A long life just means more time to think about the things you have done that you wish you could forget."

He was no longer looking at her, his gaze was in the distance, far away with whatever regrets were brewing inside of him. Bonnie's hand lifted to reach for him, her fingers almost brushing over his knuckles. Kimaris looked at her when she did, his scowl deepening. She shivered at his appearance.

"You should go inside," he stated, sitting back onto his chair, the space between them returning and his hand sliding away. "It's cold and we're travelling back home tomorrow, might as well get sleep while you can."

She hated that she could feel him pull away again. Every time she thought she was seeing more to Kimaris, an ice wall of stubbornness built itself back up again and send her plummeting to the ground, keeping her locked out. She didn't know why she felt like she had to know things about him, after all she'd always been the one to keep herself secret, why shouldn't he be entitled to do the same thing?

She'd opened up to him, but that didn't mean he had to do the same back.

"Yeah, you're right," Bonnie replied quietly, grabbing her cup as she stood from the chair, looking up at the sky one last time before she went inside. It always astonished her that the world was so big, and her so small, yet her problems felt like they swallowed her whole. Standing there, she felt like she was ten again.

"I'll see you in the morning," she mumbled, walking around him and to the stairs, biting her lip with the urge to say something. As she went to walk up them, she paused, and turned back to the man who had not moved a muscle. "And Kimaris?"

He didn't turn, but she saw his head twist slightly to one side, and knew he was listening. Not being able to see his face helped her voice come out stronger than she felt.

"I don't think it's fair to punish yourself eternally for things you've done in the past, we all grow and change overtime, even daemons. Of course over thousands of years you're going to hate things you've done, but if you work to change and improve, then I think you're allowed to let some of the blame go. You're not the same version of yourself that you were before, so don't hate yourself forever." She smiled at the back of his raven head. "I mean you saved a human life—I'm sure that counts for something."

He didn't react to her words straight away, he just stayed still.

"Thanks, Bonnie," he said after a minute before turning back to the loch, the words making a relieved smile grace her lips. "Goodnight. I hope you don't hear Grem snoring through the walls."

"Goodnight, Kimaris," Bonnie replied, before climbing the stairs, her racing heart as quick as her moving feet. It really was getting cold, and she couldn't wait to jump into her cosy bed. She'd not had one for a couple nights now.

As she got to the front door, she looked one last time, back at the man who was a statue as he stared out at the water, like a shadow you wouldn't see. She'd always wanted to come to this place, and although she was sad that it wasn't with the people she had imagined, she was grateful to have seen its beauty and been able to share some of the torment from inside her. It made the memory sweeter, and the future not so tainted with pain.

As the door shut and Bonnie went to her room to head to bed, the wind still whipped outside, ruffling the trees and kicking up leaves from the ground. The winds of winter were calling from not too far away, and as a cold streak ripped through, Kimaris lifted his face to it, letting the sting touch his pointed cheekbones. His lips stretched into an even wider smile.

"Well, Nessie." He grinned, following the trails of twinkling stars across the sky instead of the one behind him that he longed for. "Perhaps things truly are changing."