He was always too late.

Running down the streets of London shouldn't have been a chore for him. But this time, with his heart pounding in his chest, he ran down the narrow alleys of Whitechapel. He didn't understand why he would end up in this questionable part of London, and why she, of all persons, would be there. The main streets were lit dimly, and he could see that very few people were walking around, which was weird. Whitechapel was at its most vibrant at night, yet there was barely anyone. He continued running, looking for her, his witchlight glowing brightly in his hand. Come on, Tess, where are you?

She had slipped out in the dead of the night, when she thought no one was noticing. Everyone was asleep, even Jem, who had been having fitful sleeps those past few days. It was that period again where his condition was the worst. But he had been awake, and he heard the doors of the Institute close and watched from the dining room her figure disappear around the corner. He waited a few moments before following her silently, like how was trained to tail a target.

By the time he found, there was someone standing in front of her and before he could call out her name or pull her away, she swayed to her side and lost her balance. The person who had been standing in front of her turned and ran in the opposite direction. He caught a glimpse of his side profile- it was the Magister. He wanted to give chase, to catch him and kill him with all the pleasure it would give him, but he had to attend to her. It seemed funny, how hard he had been trying to push away all his feelings for her. He didn't want to love her. But love, it was such a complex creature. How silently it crept into a person's heart and by the time one discovered it, it was too late. It had already taken root, deep and unyielding.

He caught her by the waist right before she fell. "Tess," he whispered.

She smiled back at him, weakly, without saying anything. A dark stain was growing slowly on the front of her petticoat. As the minutes passed, it became larger and larger. He placed his fingers over the spot, the coppery smell wafted up to his nose.

"Tessa!" He cried out, this time louder. She still didn't answer him, but her body was growing limp by the moment. The light in her eyes was fading slowly, but surely. "Oh God, no, Tess! Don't leave me!"

He tried to lift her up, to carry her to the one person who could help him. But with the last ounce of her strength, she placed her hand insistently on his shoulders and gave him one last smile before her hand dropped to her side. Falling to his knees with her in his arms, he sobbed so bitterly that he thought his heart wasn't going to take the deep pain it felt.

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It was always at this moment where he would jolt awake, his hand running through his already damp hair. His heart was beating so quickly, the surge of adrenaline still present in his blood. It was a nightmare, he told himself. The nightmare that always came ever since her near-death a few months ago, the near-death where he lowered his guard and allowed his emotions to slip through when he thought she was gone from this world.

Pushing his room slightly ajar, he crept out quietly and walked towards her room. On his left, Jem was standing outside his room, face a little pale.

"Why are you standing here?" He asked.

"Heard you shouting Tessa's name. Nightmare again?" Jem replied, shrugging his shoulders.

"None of your business." He hadn't told anyone about that nightmare, about his moment of weakness. "Go back to sleep, you need the rest, James Carstairs."

"Very well." Jem turned back and walked in the direction of his room. Will waited for Jem to enter his room before heading towards Tessa's room at the end of the corridor. He opened a small gap and peered inside. She was sleeping soundly, but he didn't want to go in even though he had an urge to run his hand through her soft brown hair, to hug her to him because she was safe, well and alive. But he couldn't bring himself to take another step forward, because he knew the moment he did, there was no turning back. At all.