Disclaimer- I am not Libba Bray. I did write A Great and Terrible Beauty. If I did, I would be rather sad for writing fan fiction for my own story. Who does that?

I awoke to Kartik's chapped lips pressed against mine. My eyes still closed, I felt his cool mouth find my lips again and again. Rhythmically he blew gusts of air into my empty lungs. It was as if we had one mouth between us, his breath becoming my own. In my still drowsy state, I believed this was a dream. A wonderful, hungry dream similar to the others I had delighted in ever since I first tasted Kartik in the woods. I greedily inhaled his scent of cinnamon and firewood. I heard him whispering my name with desperate urgency between each kiss. Gemma. I smiled, and threw my arms around his neck to pull him closer. I wanted more of him, aware in my subconscious that dreams are fleeting.

I opened my eyes to see his glorious face and the thick eyelashes that framed the loveliest of eyes. My smile faded as I looked into those eyes, and saw they were wild with fear. Not a dream, but perhaps a nightmare, for I had been suffering from many of those as well. I began to feel the deep ache that encompassed my body. This was not like my other delicious dreams; there was never pain, only bliss. The sudden realization that this may not be a dream caused my arms to slide from his neck and fall to my sides with a soft thump. Relief washed over Kartik's face to see my eyes open. I closed them again, suddenly very sleepy and potentially embarrassed by my plain desire if it was, in truth, not a dream.

With my eyes closed and air in my lungs, I was abruptly aware of my environment. The ground was muddy from all the rain that had drenched Spence's sweeping green lawns, making lawn tennis and croquet an impossibility. It was night, the darkness pushed against my eyelids. How late was it? I wondered. I remembered Ann, Felicity and I sneaking to the caves after dinner what seemed to be only a few hours ago. Then a more urgent though crossed my mind. Why was I so cold? I was soaking wet; wearing only my thin, white, chemise which was clinging to my body. I hurt all over, and I felt too tired to move. My thoughts were slow and waterlogged, but I could still feel the whiskey pulsing though my blood. A single word came to my groggy mind, Kartik.

My eyes flew open again to see Kartik on top of me. In fact he was straddling my body, his knees on either side of my abdomen. His hands were placed by my head, his face mere inches from my own. He was leaning over me in order to breathe life into my lungs. His perfect smile looked pleased, but it quickly faded as he recognized my compromised position beneath him. He got off me, and with absurd grace he walked a few paces away to watch me. He was always watching me. I looked to see my nightgown and corset lying strewn near the shore of the lake where I had left them. I tried to scramble over to them as fast as I could, to alleviate my humiliation. Why did Kartik always have to see me when I was at my most vulnerable? Why couldn't't I be on top of him as he lay in his undergarments? Wow, Gem, guess you drank a little more whiskey than you thought.

But as soon as I sat up with an attempt to regain my dignity, nausea swept over me. Dizzily, I vomited up a small amount of water, and slowly slid down onto my back. The memories of the night leading up to my near drowning were starting to surface. I saw the three of us, Ann, Felicity, and me, laughing in the cave, crying about Pippa, and the whiskey bottle being pulled from behind a rock. There was one sip, two sips, too many to count. I remember leaving the cave, lying to my friends, and climbing into the boat alone. Then I saw Pippa's lovely face in the water, and wanting to touch her beautiful, porcelain skin once more. Finally, there was the icy water, and then nothing until Kartik's lips.

Now that he saw I was OK, Kartik's face turned angry. Perhaps a more actuate description was irate. He opened his mouth, but seemed to be too furious to speak. I knew he would berate me for my stupidly, who was foolish enough to go out alone on a boat at midnight? I lay still, waiting for his tirade. Strangled, half formed words burst from him.

"Bloody drunk-"

"Could have been killed-"

"Most idiotic-"

"Think how I would have felt if-"

He stopped then, a small red blush creeping up neck and into his cheeks. For a moment, I wished to be that blush. To be able to caress his chestnut skin, bring color and life to his haggard exterior. To make him feel the intense heat I felt whenever I was around him. I ceased my increasingly scandalous daydream, when I saw a look of concern breaking Kartik's furious façade. I wondered what my expression had betrayed. Could he see my obvious lust for him?

Kartik began again, slower, more controlled, "Are you quite alright Miss Doyle?"

Author's note:

This is my first fan fiction, and I am aware that it is incredibly short. In fact, I believe this author's note is longer than the story itself. I truly desire to let it grow into a longer entry, but my attention span is notoriously short. I am planning on adding more (and soon), though it is really just a one-shot scene. I would appreciate any reviews of the critical or admiring kind. But you do not have to review, I always prefer that authors don't beg for reviews, they should be something willingly given by a reader. It is enough to me that you took time to read my interpretations (fantasies?) of Kartik and Gemma's steamy love. Also, there is nothing more irritating than spelling or grammatical errors, except perhaps someone who is extremely out of character, so please do not hesitate to inform me of such. Thank you so much for reading.