[WILLIAM]

⑅

"Leaving so soon?" Robert Ash sneered, a sick grin on his face. "The auction hasn't even started yet."

If I said the room got smaller, I might have been telling the truth. The overwhelming reality of the situation was closing in on us, the escape I thought we'd have was narrowed, and it smelled like fear.

"Get out of our way," I said, though I knew my voice was far from calm.

Robert frowned. "I knew you weren't a waiter."

"Obviously, you dimwit."

My insults were specks of dust under the man's watch, and he quickly dismissed them from thought. He took a step forward. I took a step back. His eyes kept darting between me and the woman next to me, ideas churning in his head as he eyed us both.

"What was it you wanted?" I scoffed at him. "Collateral?"

He waved a hand. "Of a sort."

"Why don't you kill Kent instead of her?"

"He's a business partner. She's nobody."

"She's more than you are."

"Maybe to you," the man smirked. "But if she's that important to you, I ought to kill her right now."

He reached for his pocket, and I seized my chance. Perhaps he was bluffing, but I knew someone like Robert Ash wouldn't show up to a fight unarmed. He was the kind of person who'd carry matches hidden all over his body. He was the kind of person to have poison in his blood.

I was right.

The second I lunged towards him, he whipped a dagger out of his pocket, unsheathing it and raising it above his head. Lovey yelled something from behind me, but I was too lost in the moment to understand it. My priorities were this: get out.

Robert put up a fight. He was messy—but skilled—and his un-honed techniques were tricky to get a hang of. When he swung, I dodged. Where he faltered, I attacked. Fighting him like this reminded me of the first time we'd met—though I was younger, and my hair was dyed. You got me demoted, I wanted to say. I should have killed you when I had the chance.

Of course they didn't recognise me. They're killers. It's about death, not the one who dies.

Dodging another blow from the man, I grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back, kicking in his knees so he'd crumple to the ground. His dagger clattered to the ground, echoing inside the small room.

"Not so dangerous without your wife, are you, Ash?" I spat out. "Leave my girl alone, or next time, I'll kill you."

He opened his mouth to speak, but I elbowed him in the skull, knocking him out completely.

Lovey had backed up into the corner of the room, holding the chair in her hands. She looked like she was going to throw it, but decided a shield would have been best. It almost brought a smile to my face to see it. You're learning how to protect yourself, I wanted to say. I'm proud of you.

Holding out my hand, I beckoned for her to follow me.

She did.

⚘

The issue was getting out unnoticed. The auction was already in progress—I could hear the slamming of gavels against a podium—and two strangers walking out would cause a stir. Waiting, I pressed my ear up to the door as I waited for the right moment. Everyone would be distracted once the newest piece came out, and we'd be able to move then.

There was talking.

Another slam of a gavel.

And then it was time.

Opening the door, I let Lovey go through first before following her into the auction house. On the stage, men were moving a painting off into the wings, and bringing a large vase on. The crowd was chattering amongst themselves. 

But as we neared the wine-cellar, a figure stepped out into the light.

"[y/n]?"

Mori Fauna-Blanc was standing in the entrance way, shock on their face as they stared at us. With all the commotion, I'd forgotten they were here. There was a glass of wine in their hands, as if it had just been refilled, dangling loosely from their fingertips. 

"Mori?" Lovey gasped. "What are you doing here?"

The designer furrowed their brows. "Percy invited me."

I saw something change in Lovey's eyes, and her hand clenched tighter around mine. "You traitor."

"What?"

"You helped them find me, didn't you?"

Holding out my arm, I pushed Lovey closer towards me. I could sense the anger coursing through her veins—an anger I didn't think she'd have—but I understood it nonetheless. I couldn't imagine what she'd been put through while captive. I already knew what she'd gone through while she was still free. She was a ticking timer, waiting to blow.

"Mori doesn't know," I explained. "It's okay."

The designer furrowed a brow. "Know what?"

"Neither of you are safe here. I'm sorry, but I think it's best we leave."

"What are you talking about?" Mori was persistent. "Safe? Is something going on?"

"I'll explain later."

"Explain now."

"We don't have time."

"Well, I can't just drop everything to leave—"

"Just go, Mori," Lovey spat out. She jerked out her hand, grabbing her friend by the arm and pulling them towards the door.

In doing so, the glass of wine that had been in their hand fell, toppling towards the ground with an incredible speed. As soon as I saw it, a panic grew inside of me. I lunged, but I was too slow to catch it. The glass shattered against the stone floor, red splattering against every surface like blood. But no, something was worse than a broken glass. It wasn't why I was worried.

It was the sound.

Ear-piercing, jerking, and loud, the noise of the wine-glass echoed throughout the large room, turning the heads of everyone who sat in their chairs. I looked at table five with a speck of dying hope—please. Don't turn around.

"Run," I said.

But neither of them moved.

Table five had turned, and the faces of Percy Kent and Martha Ash were staring right back at us. There was shock in their eyes—no, surprise—but the anger was evident. I looked at Percy and felt it too; worse even. You never deserved her, I wanted to say. You deserve nothing. But before I could do anything, the door to the back-rooms swung open, and Robert Ash stumbled out with blood dripping down his face.

He raised an arm towards us, grimacing with a sickly scowl.

There were whispers from the rest of the tables.

Shifting of chairs.

But then there was silence.

And only two words left the man's mouth. "Get them."

I didn't waste another second, sweeping Lovey off of her feet and beginning to dash towards the exit. It didn't occur to me that I'd left someone behind at that moment. I don't think I would have noticed until I was well out of the building. At that moment, and for the foreseeable future, the only thing in my mind was her.

I carried her through the wine cellar and into the kitchen, not caring if I knocked over pots and pans in the process.

"Mori!" Lovey yelled. "We have to go back for them!"

I pretended not to hear her.

"William, please!"

I struggled in vain, hoping, for just this once, she'd be as selfish as me. But that isn't Lovey, I knew. She's nothing like me. It was my favourite thing about her. The fact that she could be so beautifully her, and so effortlessly human.

It wasn't until she wrestled her way out of my arms that I realised there was no stopping her. She was going to go back for her friend, even if it meant running towards the people who wanted her dead. I followed her back into the kitchen, my heart pounding. Before she reached the freezer door, she stopped, doubling back to grab a pan from off the counter.

"What's that for?" I asked.

She twisted it in her grip. "Revenge."

Before I could advise her to use something better, such as a knife, she went scurrying off without me. Classic you, I thought to myself, too stubborn to kill. I left the kitchen, hoping she didn't get too far ahead.

Once I reached the wine cellar, I knew the madness was waiting for us. A man was writhing on the ground in pain, clutching the right side of his face. Lovey must have already smacked him with the pan. Finishing the job for her, I knocked the man out of his misery.

Once I made it into the auction, I noticed Lovey was frozen still. She stood with the pan in her hand, staring at the commotion in front of us.

"Drop your weapons," Percy Kent spat out. "Or they die."

My jaw twitched at the sight of Mori being held against their will, a knife to their throat. I knew exactly why Kent had invited them here—as bait. As a hostage. It was sick. I watched as their eyes watered, begging for us to do something. Anything.

Robert and Martha Ash were off to the side, surrounded by a group of their goons. Turns out the entire auction house was filled with their own spies. They were just waiting to take charge. I watched as Martha twirled a match in her hands. At any point, she could set it ablaze.

"Mori, it's going to be okay," Lovey said, but her voice was shaking. She set down the pan by her feet.

"You," Percy barked at me. "Empty your pockets."

I stood still. "They're empty."

"Lie to me, and they die."

"I'm not lying."

To demonstrate, I reached into the pockets of my trousers, turning them outwards to show there was nothing inside. Once the man had been satisfied with what he saw, a smile wormed its way back onto his face.

"Let's make a deal, shall we?" He began. "Life for a life."

I glanced at Lovey, but she didn't look at me. She only stared at the man in front of her, eyes burning with a fire I'd never seen before. She can handle herself, I told myself. I trust her.

Taking a step forward, she narrowed her eyes. "Let Mori go, and you can have me."

Robert Ash smirked from aside.

Kent wasn't satisfied. "How do I know you won't run?"

"You think I can outrun all of you?"

"I think you're trickier than you lead us to believe."

"Then you really never knew me at all, Percy," she spat out. "I wouldn't risk someone's life over my own selfishness."

A scowl twisted onto the man's face. She'd called him out in front of everyone—and he didn't even expect it. He wasn't around to see her grow into the fighting spirit she now is. He wasn't around to see her strength.

"Oh, give it up, Kent," Martha laughed from the side. "It's not like she's on a fair battlefield."

Without saying another word, Percy retracted his knife, pushing Mori away from him. They stumbled onto their feet, immediately rushing towards Lovey and collapsing into a hug. The sight almost made me feel guilty for leaving them behind.

I watched as Lovey whispered something into their ear. No one but I seemed to notice, but all at once I understood. Pulling away from each other, Mori smiled—not a happy smile, but an understanding one. A grateful one. A thank you.

And then they ran.

"Alright, now it's time for the fun," Robert sneered, sitting up. "Once she's dead, consider your debt forgiven, Mr. Kent."

Alarm rose through my body. Not while I'm here, I thought to myself, but I knew I wouldn't be able to take all of them alone. There were more than thirty at the very least, and they were all trained to fight.

But I felt Lovey's hand brush against mine.

I looked at her, and she nodded.

Oh.

Bending down, I watched as she picked up the pan she'd dropped minutes before. This time, she wouldn't let it go. My chest swelled with a sudden feeling—a feeling of pride—seeing her prepare to fight. Suddenly, thirty people didn't feel like that many.

"What are you waiting for?" She said, twisting the metal in her hand. "I thought you wanted me dead."

It didn't take long for Percy to leap to his feet, waving his arms at the people surrounding him. Barking for them to attack, Lovey and I stood our ground as the crowd swarmed around us.

And then it began.

I took the left and she took the right, swinging wildly at anyone who dared approach her. I was limited to the use of my fists, but they were my greatest asset. I took on two men at once, dodging their punches and throwing my own. There was no doubt there'd be blood on my hands by the end of this, but I knew it wouldn't be mine.

Every now and then, I'd cast a quick glance to see how Lovey was doing. She brought insanity to the way she fought, showing her anger by yelling at everyone who approached her. I might have seen fear in some of their eyes. She was an unpredictable force of rage.

Soon, the numbers started to dwindle. Thirty became twenty; twenty became ten; then five, then three, and none.

The last people standing were the Ashes and Kent. They'd been watching with interest and fear—the latter being in Percy's eyes—but I could tell they were surprised we made it this far.

"You," Lovey grimaced, pointing the pan towards Kent. "You bloody coward."

I let my eyes fall on the Ash duo instead, daring them to do something. They were the reason behind all this madness. The reason Lovey's life had been ruined in a matter of weeks. I hated them for it, and I wanted to make them pay. But it's her revenge, not yours, I reminded myself. Don't take it away from her.

"You're all cowards," she spat out. "All of you."

Martha laughed, the match still dangling in her hands. "I'm impressed, young lady."

"I don't want to impress you."

"Shame. You remind me of someone I know. She's also got your feisty, little attitude problem."

"Here's the deal," Lovey continued. "You're going to leave me alone."

Robert scoffed. "You don't make the deals, girl."

"Leave me alone."

"And have no compensation?" Martha cut in. "I don't think so."

I watched as she reached for a bottle of vodka beside her, unscrewing the cap and taking a long swig of it. Keeping a watchful eye, I crossed over towards Lovey, placing a hand on her shoulder. Something didn't seem right. I couldn't tell what it was.

"You want to know why we've never been caught?" The woman smirked. She didn't wait for either of us to guess before answering herself. "Because we Ashes know how to escape."

"Where there's smoke, there's fire," Robert said.

"And smoke slips right through your fingers."

We stared at the couple in a mixture of disgust and confusion, wondering what they were playing at. Percy only sat beside them, glowering in his own delusions. The last thing he'd ever do was fight. He was a duke and a coward.

"Compensation is key," the woman said. "I'm afraid we can't simply leave you alone, dear."

Lovey's eyes dimmed.

"In fact, we can't let you leave at all."

Before either of us could register what she was doing, Martha threw the Vodka bottle on the ground, letting it spill out onto the floor. Then, with a quick swipe over the top of the table, she lit her match. I could see the tiny flame dancing over the wooden stick, taunting us.

"Don't burn," she grinned.

And then the room went ablaze.

Everything happened so quickly, I wasn't sure what to do. The fire had started to spread to the table cloths and chairs, and was devouring everything in sight. By the time I looked up, the Ashes had disappeared. It was like they weren't there at all.

"Will?" I heard Lovey cough.

"We have to go," I said, holding out my hand.

She went to take it, but she stopped. Turning her head, she noticed Percy Kent was still in the room, looking lost and betrayed by the two people he'd come with. They'd left him behind. I wasn't sure what he was expecting.

"No, Lovey, let's go," I said again, but she wasn't listening.

Twisting the pan in her hand, she stormed towards the man, grabbing him by the collar and dragging him into the centre of the room. The fire was spreading quicker, and quicker, but she didn't seem to care. Throwing the man onto the ground, she placed a foot on top of his chest to stop him from wriggling around.

"This is for ruining my life," she said.

And with a loud clang, she swung the pan into Percy's head, knocking him out completely.

I noticed his fingers twitch slightly, and thought I'd finish the job for her, but the fire was approaching wildly. This time, she dropped the pan, rushing towards me. There was a taste of freedom in the air, but we had to make it out of the room before we were swallowed by the smoke.

Grabbing her hand, we ran.

We ran, and ran, until it felt like we were lost inside the building's walls. The air was hot, thick, and made it hard to breathe. I tried to cover her eyes from the smoke, but even my eyes were stinging too much to see.

The kitchen, I thought, although I couldn't remember why it was important. We were almost there. We just needed to get out of the kitchen, and back to safety. At the time, I was so focused on our escape, that I didn't remember the gas stoves or ovens. I didn't remember that the room above us—our only way out—was the one thing that was more dangerous than everything.

But then I heard it.

The sound.

It came like a crack of thunder right above our heads, even though there was no rain. It was loud, sharp, and painful—splitting air itself as we ran. I looked up to see what it was, before the horrifying truth settled into place. It wasn't lighting at all.

It was the aftermath of an explosion.

I watched as the ceiling began to crumble, pieces of cement and wood slicing towards the ground. The fire must have reached the kitchen before we could, and the gas must have exploded with the fire. But my legs couldn't move fast enough, and neither could hers. Demolition blocked the doorway, and every method of escape. In the chaos, I'd let go of her hand, and we'd somehow been seperated

You can't run, my mind yelled. There's no way out.

"William!"

Her voice pierced through the room like an arrow, and I whipped my head around to see her running towards me. Her arms were outstretched, but there was panic in her eyes. Terror.

Before I could open my mouth, she lunged forward with immense force, tackling me from my balance and sending me flying onto the ground. I rolled across the floor, my side scratching against fallen concrete.

"[y/n]?" I mumbled, climbing onto my feet. "What—"

But then it hit me.

There she was, right where I'd been standing, arms held above her head as the ceiling caved in on her.

She'd saved my life.

But that meant...

No.

It was like the world went silent as I ran towards her, hoping I'd make it in time. But I knew hope was the one thing I didn't have. I could barely take one step before I watched her crumple to the ground, metal pipes and concrete blocks piling on top of her.

I yelled her name, but I couldn't hear it.

Everything was quiet.

Looking at it now, I know why it was. I couldn't bear to hear the sound of her screaming, knowing there was nothing I could do to save her.

Falling to my knees, I began to tear apart the rubble, throwing pieces of stone behind me as I searched for her. No, I heard my mind think. It was all it could. No, please. No. No. I dug, and I dug, but the stones became larger, and soon I couldn't move them apart.

"Love?" I whimpered. "Lovey?"

The only thing I'd been able to do was make a small window through the demolition—a window so small, I could only see a glimpse of her face, bloody and bruised.

"Hi Will," she whispered, but her voice was weak.

"Lovey, it's going to be okay," I said. "I'm going to get you out of here."

"You can't, Will."

"I'm going to get you out, I promise."

I kept tearing at the stones, but they wouldn't budge. My arms felt like they'd rip apart the more I tried, and I could feel my own body failing. The fire was still blazing around us, and it was getting harder to breathe.

"This is my fault," I said, and I felt my eyes burning. "I shouldn't have left you."

"It's not your fault," she said.

But I didn't believe her.

I wanted to grab her pain; I wanted to take it into my hands and force it onto me, because I was the one who deserved it. I was the one who couldn't protect her. I was the one who had spent my whole life hating the world—hating myself—and when I had finally learned to love someone—love her, even as little as someone like me could—I had to watch the light sink out of her eyes.

I had to see her through the cracks of broken cement, trying to reach her, but being too far to touch her.

Not even my own death would be as painful as now. To know there was nothing I could do. To look at fragments of her face, and only hear the words 'you can't, you can't, you can't' screaming in your mind.

You can't.

I can't.

I can't be with her. I was a fool to think I ever could be. Even when I find myself starting to love again, the world decides to take it away from me.

"Hey, Creep?" She whispered.

The fire was getting hotter.

"I'm the life you didn't take," she said. "Surely that means something."

Surely?

Suddenly we were in that room again, side by side on that bed, reading our favourite book. I'm the life you didn't take. Those were Edmund's words. They shouldn't have been hers.

I'd killed so many before. I killed so many, and yet the one time I had to save someone, I failed. She didn't deserve this.

"I was supposed to protect you." I whispered, but it felt like I was screaming.

"You did," she smiled softly.

"I wish I spoke to you on that train," I said, my voice shaking. "I wish I could tell you to stay in London."

"It's not your fault. I've always loved Paris," she said. "At the very beginning, I remember thinking that I'd die in Paris."

"Don't say that. Please don't say that."

"I'm the life you didn't take," she said again. "Don't forget that."

Suddenly, I felt something fall from my eyes, crashing down my cheeks and into my lap. It was wet, salty, and stung when I blinked. Tears, I reminded myself. I thought I'd forgotten how to cry.

"Lovey?" I whispered.

But she didn't answer.

"Lovey?" I said again.

This time, I knew the light in her eyes had gone.

"No," I pleaded. "No, no, no, please no."

Trying one last time to move the rocks, I felt agony tear myself apart this time. It's over. She's gone.

"I love you," I said, though I knew my heart was far past healing. "I love you."

In her death, I saw her smile. Maybe, if there was such a thing as an afterlife, she'd heard me say it. She'd heard me say the three words I swore I'd never say, or even feel. She'd know it was only for her, just for her, and always for her.

"I love you," I said again.

It was the last thing I'd ever say to her.

I love you.

What I'd give to hear her laugh. To see her smile. To feel her arms around me, and unknowingly changing my life in the process. What I'd give to see her try on dresses, cross the street without looking both ways, and roll off the mattress when she slept. What I'd give to relive my life and make sure she was happy. To make sure she knew how I truly felt.

I love you.

My heart died with her that day.

I love you.

I wish I'd died as well.

I love you.

Eternally.

Lovey.