This is for DayBreakAlchemist who requested I write a ClairexMyrnin one-shot. I've never written this pairing before (because I don't ship it, but forget you read this), so don't judge too hard.

Myrnin brushed against Claire on his way to get a chemical from a cabinet of scientific ingredients behind her; his icy arm touched her warm shoulder for a fraction of a second. Claire shuddered, but continued measuring out the volume of the hydrogen peroxide in the beaker she was holding.

Claire was confused at her response to Myrnin's brief touch. Had it been the unfamiliar coolness of his skin that had caused her to lose control of her body in the way that she had, or… something else entirely?

Shane and Claire had very recently fallen out of each other's favor because of the little things. She was sick of how possessive he was being all the time; whenever Claire came here to visit Myrnin, Shane threw a fit because he said he'd seen the way Myrnin looked at her. He also accused her of seeing Myrnin as more than just her boss, which was true in a way; she had helped him out of his insanity for God's sake—they were entitled to call each other friends.

Perhaps it had just been that Claire was denying it for Shane's sake, and therefore tricked herself into believing that Myrnin held no romantic feelings for her. But now that she was no longer being forced to deny it every day, Claire thought maybe it was a little bit true—maybe Shane had been on to something.

Because now when she caught Myrnin staring at her, she saw the wistfulness of his gaze and the careful way he acted around her. But—he had always been careful with her. He'd always been protective of Claire.

Myrnin breezed past her again and the cool air that blew around her gave her goose bumps. His mere presence was enough to make her heart stutter because she wasn't sure how to act around him anymore for reasons she couldn't explain.

"Myrnin?" she asked quietly. She had stopped what she was doing a long time ago, and stood still at the lab table. Claire couldn't bring herself to look into Myrnin's eyes and instead fiddled with the rubber gloves she was wearing.

"Claire?" he responded, acknowledging her questioning verbalization. He didn't look up from his work.

"Do you—" The question seemed stupid, she realized. And it felt petty that she wanted to know. But she pushed on against that feeling and forced herself to ask, "Do you love me?"

Myrnin stopped pouring a liquid into a new vial. He gave a small, almost sad, laugh and shook his head slowly.

"I—"

Suddenly, before Claire knew why, there was an explosion and she was being blasted backward, off her feet, and into the bookcase behind her. A shelf hit her hard in the back of the head and then she was lost to blackness.

Claire awoke on an uncomfortable bed in a room that was only slightly familiar to her in her groggy state. Her head was mercilessly pounding out a message that screamed at her to take some painkillers. She went to put a hand to her temple, but saw out of the corner of her eye that her right forearm was wrapped in bandages.

Claire's brows knitted together and she started to unravel it to see what was underneath, but a voice from the corner warned gently, "Don't." She looked up quickly. She was startled; she thought she had been the only one in the room, but found it was Myrnin. "I've hurt you," he said sadly.

"How? Did you…?" She didn't really have to finish what she was saying, because it was sort of implied. She situated herself so that she was being supported by her left elbow and looked at him.

"No, I didn't drink from you," he answered, ashamed she had to ask. "My attention wandered and I made a terrible mistake. I knocked over a vial and spilled a hypergolic which mixed with another that had already been in a puddle on the table." He got up from a folding chair he'd been sitting in and made his way over to Claire.

"Are you all right?" she asked, looking him up and down with concern. She remembered the small explosion now. Claire saw that there was a hole in his shirt at his stomach and around the hole was a red stain.

"We were both thrown backward; a vial broke and embedded itself in my abdomen. I am perfectly fine, of course. You, however, are not, and I am to blame." He gestured to her, apparently, injured arm. "You landed on broken glass and you have a few scratches on your face."

"Are they bad?" Claire asked. He sat down next to her.

The next thing Myrnin did took her completely by surprise. He reached out and, with his cool fingers, traced a small scrape on her cheek. Claire didn't move, but she felt her heartbeat increasing its pace and a fluttery feeling in her stomach.

He must have heard her heartbeat accelerate because he drew his hand away quickly. "I apologize," he said. "I did not mean to scare you."

"You—didn't," she said, searching for the proper response. "You didn't scare me."

Claire remembered the conversation they were having before everything exploded. She had asked Myrnin if… if he loved her. Now, the thought wasn't so ridiculous or childish, nor did she feel petty for considering the idea. He had never touched her like this before, in fascination and wonder.

But, being of the female sex, she had doubts Myrnin wasn't truly interested in her that way. Maybe she was just a science experiment to him; she wasn't beautiful, nor was she really pretty; and she wasn't a genius. She wasn't like Myrnin.

"I asked if you loved me," Claire said, looking down and blushing at the intensity in the gaze he was directing at her, studying her cheekbones, her hair, her lips… "I only wanted to know because—because I think…" She forced himself to meet his eyes. "I love you."

Myrnin dropped his hand from the invisible line he had been tracing that went down her jaw, but held her stare. "I think I love you, too."

Claire felt a smile creep across her face and Myrnin returned it, though his was smaller and more… secretive, almost. Because Claire knew, she knew deep within her heart, he had been waiting for this moment between them to come for a long time. And somewhere in the back of her mind, Claire realized that she had been waiting for this for just as long.

"How fascinating," he said. "I cannot marvel enough at how reactive you are to touch."

"Only yours."

Myrnin leaned in and their lips met—cold marble moved against warm flesh and each delighted in the feel of it. Any fear Claire had dissipated into the air around them; it mingled with the melancholy Myrnin released that seemed to leak from his very pores. They were a perfect match in their differences: life and death, felicity and woefulness, light and dark...

But they were the same in what they sought: love.

And it seemed to resonate and bounce around the room, filling the place—their embrace—with brightness, and brought to their faces a glow. It engulfed them in its light and devoured their souls, awaiting to be sensed and longing to be realized.

I did my best. Review and tell me what could have changed or whatever.