And now...Chapter 2 of my first fanfic!!! Thanks so much to the people who reviewed chapter one. You guys are my very first reviews EVER! A big cyber box of chocolates to you guys!

Disclaimer: I am not Libba Bray...but you already knew that, didn't you?

When I am done, Kartik and I return to the entrance hall, clutching each other. I can't hold it in anymore; I twist into Kartik's body, pressing myself to him, and bury my head in his shoulder, my body shaking with sobs. I stand there, trembling and crying, for a few minutes. Kartik strokes my hair soothingly, though I know that inside, he is hurting as well, and I feel awful for making him comfort me. I pull away.

"Come with me," I whisper, pulling him gently after me as I step onto the staircase. I lead the way as we tread up the steps up to my room. When I open the door, I find it to be empty. It seems Ann is spending the night comforting Felicity. I could kiss her for it.

I let go of Kartik and walk to the bed. Behind me, I can hear his near-silent footsteps following me. I turn and sit down, facing Kartik, who stays on his feet. Reaching up, I find his hands and hold them, looking at his face. Behind the careful mask he has donned since returning from the realms, I can see the pain that I had know was there all along.

"Kartik," I whisper, squeezing his hands gently. "Tell me. What's wrong?"

I don't have to ask. But I did. I know why he is upset. Had he not just had to kill his own brother? Somehow, though, I think having him tell me himself would help him to heal, in a way.

He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. When he opens them again, the mask is gone, the pain clearly etched on his face.

"Amar…" he whispered, eyes glittering with tears that I know he's trying so desperately to keep back. "I killed him."

"He was already dead." I say, trying to soothe him. Kartik shakes his head.

"I know." He seems tortured. "I just…he was there…in front of me. Even though I knew he was gone, I thought, for a moment…"

"Yes?"

Kartik sighed. "I thought for a moment that he was back. His eyes cleared, his posture changed. He was my brother again, the brother I had lost back in India. He spoke to me like he had before he'd died, asked me to give him peace."

I wait patiently, sure that there is more. When Kartik doesn't speak, I whisper, "And you did. You fulfilled your brother's last request."

"Gemma, that wasn't really my brother."

"I know that. But somewhere, underneath the creature he had become, Amar was still there. I know it. He's spoken to me before, too, remember?" I say, stroking his hands with my thumbs. I feel like I'm grasping at straws a bit, but I can't help it. It pains me to see him like this, hurt and upset. But Kartik's eyes nevertheless looks thoughtful, then hopeful. I know that he is realizing the airy truth behind my words, and that he feels much better for it. "And in that case, you have absolutely nothing to worry about. You simply helped your brother move on." I stand, releasing his hands and instead cradling his face. His eyes have lost some of their sadness, but there is a whole new layer of it now that I know will take even more coaxing on my part to heal. I stand on my toes, and bring our faces together in a gentle kiss. When we break apart, I can feel Kartik's arms tighten around me, and I look into his eyes to see fear in them. Concern floods into my brain. "But I have the feeling that Amar isn't the only thing you're thinking about. What is it?"

Kartik hesitates. When he speaks, it is in a whisper. "You."

I start, surprised. "Pardon?"

"Gemma," Kartik's voice sounds like it had before I had come to by the Tree: pained and afraid. "Gemma…I thought I had lost you. You seemed-" he stops, apparently unable to go on. I squeeze his hands softly in encouragement. Breathing deeply, he continues. "You seemed so cold, so lifeless. I was terrified that you were gone to me, that after having to kill my own brother, I now had to deal with losing you, and with that, losing my life. I- I thought I would never again feel you in my arms, feel your kiss." He closes his eyes again. I am surprised. It was just as I had felt when I was bodiless, when I could only hear his beautiful, pained voice. "But then you said my name, and I thought I was dreaming. It was the most beautiful sound, but also the most haunting. But there you were, breathing, speaking, living. Even now, I'm not so sure that it isn't a dream."

I put my head on his chest. I know perfectly well how he is feeling, had felt the same when I thought myself to be beyond his reach.

"I'm fine, though," I breathe, stroking his chest lightly with my finger. "You have me again. We can be together."

"That's true," Kartik says. The next thing I know, his mouth is covering mine in a kiss, his arms encircling my waist, pressing me tightly to him. I kiss him back, and move my hands to the back of his neck, never wanting to let him go. I feel his tongue on my lips, and open my mouth. I feel his arms leave my waist, and then he's lifting me, holding me close to his chest. I don't protest; my mouth is already occupied.

Kartik lowers me onto the bed, releasing my lips from his briefly. He moves onto the bed next to me, sliding right to my side, our eyes locked, each mirroring the other's desire, our passion. He pushes himself on top of me, and I welcome the additional weight readily. I let my mouth wander over him: his lips, his neck, his shoulders. I feel his fingers working to unbutton my dress, and I arch my back to make it easier for him. My hands continue to trace him, to feel him, moving from his chest to his shoulders. He manages to finish unbuttoning my dress, and pulls it over my head. Kartik kisses my neck, and I moan quietly. Reaching down, I kick off my shoes and rip off my stockings. Kartik's fingers continue their unfastening, this time on my corset. I slip my fingers down his shirt, unbuttoning what buttons had survived and, when that is done, pushing the sleeves down his muscular arms. I throw it away into the corner of the room, just as he manages to finish on my corset.

When I am free of that, he ducks his head down to kiss my stomach, now only covered by my thin chemise, sending a warm wave down my body. I gasp wildly as he runs his hands up my legs, my thighs, my hips, bringing my chemise up with them. I close my eyes, and feel him move to press his warm lips where the chemise no longer covers my skin. I feel my heart beat erratically, hear my breathing go ragged. He continues to lift my chemise, kissing my bare skin every so often. I moan again when his lips touch my lower stomach, and hear him echo that when I am finally freed of my clothing. I let him drink in the sight of me for a second, then reach for his trousers with eager fingers.

"Gemma…" he groans as we kick this last bit of clothing from the bed, then moves his lips downward, toward my chest. I feel his hands wandering my body, a shiver of excitement following his touch, and let mine do the same. His lips find mine, and I let my tongue explore his mouth, reveling in his bare skin touching mine. I set his mouth free, and let mine trail down his body. My hands trace patterns in his skin as I kiss him everywhere. I hear him moan again. Our lips meet once more; I cling myself to him, loathing the little space that I can't close between us. His arms meet firmly around me, pulling me into his body. I hitch my leg around his hip, and he groans into my mouth. His fingers entwine themselves into my curly hair. I push myself over him, gasping for air, but reluctant to stop kissing him. He lifts his head slightly to my neck, nuzzling it. I feel his mouth open and his teeth nip my skin teasingly.

"Kartik…" I gasp, tracing the lines of his structured face. He looks at me, and I at him, our eyes expressing our wishes for us. And then we are everywhere, and he is everywhere, inside, outside. The sheets tangle around our thrashing bodies, but we pay them no mind. All we know, all we care about, is each other, is making our love and passion known.

Later, I lay in his arms, both of us panting slightly. The sheets lay on the floor, forgotten, for, despite our lack of clothing, the room is hot. My mind spins dizzily, remembering the feel of Kartik's warm skin, the sound of his soft voice. He plants a kiss on my head, and I sigh in contentment.

"I could hold you all day, Miss Doyle," Kartik murmurs into my hair, and I feel myself blushing.

"I would like that," is the only reply I can think of. Kartik laughs.

"Would you now?"

"Very much." I shimmy in closer, running my fingertip over the contours of his neck.

"Hmm.." Kartik twirls a lock of my hair around his finger. I watch him.

"What are you thinking?" I ask after a few minutes of easy silence.

Kartik blinks and looks at me. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I want to know."

"Fine. I was thinking about you." He kisses me. "More specifically, I was thinking of last night."

Bloody hell. I'm definitely blushing now. "Oh? And what about it?"

Kartik laughs again. "I was thinking about how much you mean to me. About how beautiful you are. About how much I want to give you."

"You don't have to give me anything." I say, my heart swelling.

"I know that. You seem content to just have me. But that doesn't seem even. You give me everything; love, happiness, excitement. But what have I given you?"

I kiss his neck. "The same. And more."

Kartik smiles, but shakes his head. "No, Gemma. For us to be together…we don't have an equal relationship. I have everything to gain by being with you: love, a home, even wealth. But you have everything to lose. Your reputation, you inheritance, and possibly even your family. It's hardly fair."

He has a point. But I don't care. "Kartik, none of that matters to me."

"Oh, really? So you wouldn't mind if your family disowned you, if you lost your inheritance, or if everywhere you went, whispers and gossip followed?"

Yes. "No."

"Liar." Blast.

I sigh. "Fine, Kartik. Those things do matter to me. They have to. But none of it really matters if I can't share it with you. And if, when I get you, we can't share it, then I don't want it. Any of it."

"Really, Gemma," Kartik murmurs into my neck. "I don't want to take anything more from you."

"And what, pray tell, have you taken from me?" I ask, smoothing his waving black hair with the tips of my fingers.

Kartik laughs, and I gasp at the sudden vibration. "Your virtue, for one."

My breathing is labored, and when I speak, my voice wavers. "Oh. That." I say lamely, then mentally wince. Smooth, Gemma.

He laughs again, and I close my eyes, groaning softly. Kartik's hands rest on my breasts, and I bite my lip. His mouth opens on my neck, and I feel his tongue barely brushing my skin. My grip on him tightens. Kartik shifts the two of us so that he is over me again, balancing his weight on his hands. He lowers his face to my neck again, and I feel his rough breathing, mirroring my own.

"Yes," he whispers. "I have taken too much from you."

I shake my head, partially to protest, and partially to clear it. "I wanted to give it to you. You have taken nothing that was not yours already."

"Hmm…" he hums, sending a mad desire from my head to my toes. I lift my hands to the back of his neck, clutching him to me, tangling my fingers in his hair. His mouth travels the length of my chest, his hands explore my breasts. My own hands manage to disentangle themselves to travel downwards, towards a once-secret place. Our matching groans of pleasure send tingles down my spine, and I throw myself into pleasing him. Once again, we become part of each other, feeling everything, from the smallest kiss to the softest gasp.

When I wake, the room is flooded with the light of late morning. I can feel Kartik's arms wrapped protectively around me, and feel our bare skin touching. Sometime in the night, one of us had gotten hold of the sheets, and I find that, despite the warm air, it is very comfortable, here in Kartik's arms.

I unfurl my cramped legs and yawn hugely. Kartik stirs slightly next to me. I look over at him, and my heart skips a beat. Or five.

His lovely face is just inches from my own, eyes closed in sleep. His dark hair lies sweetly on his head, one stray lock falling into his eyes, not unlike my brother's. He looks so beautiful, so serene, it makes my heart soar to know that he is mine, and I his. At the moment, I can't think of anything more pleasant than waking up and seeing him first thing, every morning. I stretch my neck a bit, and kiss him lightly. He smiles, and opens his eyes.

"Good morning," he breathes, lifting a hand to tuck a strand of copper hair behind my ear.

I smile, and whisper back, "Good morning."

Kartik looks at the window. "I think it is more afternoon than morning."

"True," I say, then worm my way closer to him, tucking my head into his shoulder. "Not that I care."

"I wouldn't expect you to." Kartik laughs.

"All the same," I kiss his nose and sit up, the sheet falling away to reveal my bare skin. Kartik eyes me hungrily. "I think I should get dressed."

Kartik raises an eyebrow. "And what will you change into? Your clothing is all at your grandmother's house. And what you have here-" he gestures toward the heap on the floor, "-is torn and bloodied."

"I'm sure I'll find something," I reply, disentangling my legs from his and walking slowly towards my trunk, searching for something that I could wear. I find my white school uniform at the back of my wardrobe, and walk over to the bed with it in hand. Kartik watches me as I slip back into an old, itchy chemise that I detest, and silently steps into his own clothes as I pull on my dress. I reach for my corset. "Kartik, could you-?"

"Help you with your corset?" he asks, standing, laughter in his eyes.

"Well, yes," I reply. Kartik nods, and I brace myself against the wall. He chuckles slightly, and pulls gently on the binds. I shake my head. "You have to pull harder than that."

"What if I'd rather you kept your natural shape?" he retorts, but pulls on the corset again, this time with a little more force. We finally manage to tie up all the strings correctly, albeit a little looser than usual, and I turn to face him.

"You know," Kartik muses, staring at me. "I much prefer taking that off ofyou."

I smile, and wrap my arms around his shoulders. I stand on my toes and kiss him softly. When we pull apart, walk away to slip into my dress. I finish with that, and return to him, enfolding myself into his hold once more.

"I wish nighttime would last forever." I mumble into his shoulder, watching his muscles move under his skin as he circles his arms around me.

He kisses my head. "I know."

Sighing again, I let go of Kartik and step up to my mirror. My hair is a mess from last night, and I know that I won't have a hope of going about my day undetected until I work a miracle on it. Sitting down, I run a brush through the unruly curls, counting the strokes silently, and gaze at Kartik in the mirror. I watch him walk a few steps away to sit on the corner of my bed, his eyes on my hands as they comb my hair. Neither of us says a word, but the silence is a comfortable one, and we don't feel the need to break it with senseless chatter. It's one of the things I love about Kartik.

Love.

I hear someone walking past the door outside. I stop my brushing and turn my head in the direction of the noise. From the muffled complaints about a bad back, I take it to be Brigid. Kartik hears her, as well. He sits up straighter, eyes alert, but Brigid walks on, not so much as pausing at the door. It's as if she doesn't remember last night at all, though I hadn't touched her mind with magic. Kartik and I look at each other.

"It might be best if you go downstairs," Kartik says, nodding towards the door.

I know he's right. I just don't want to leave him. "And where will you go?"

Kartik stands and walks over to me, taking the brush from my hand. He runs it through my copper locks, sending tremors through my body.

"I suppose I could go to the gypsies…" he muses. I freeze, not wanting him to go, especially not to the gypsies. Seeing my face, he relents. "I could come back tonight, Gemma. You have lessons to go to, and I cannot stay here, in your room, for days on end."

I shake my head slightly. "Talk to Mrs. Nightwing. I'm sure she would let you stay at the school." I take a shaky breath. "Please?"

Kartik stops brushing my hair. He puts the comb down, and turns my face around to his. Pressing his palms to my cheeks, he brings my forehead to his lips.

"Even if she were to let me stay," he says, lowering his eyes level with mine, "I wouldn't be able to stay with you, not during the day. The gypsies are the safest place for me then, and later, I'll climb the vines and spend the night with you."

I pout, fully aware that I'm acting like some lovesick fool of a girl, and hating myself for it. "But what if the gypsies don't take you back?"

"Then I will hide out in your room, like some crook out to steal your virtue." he kisses my forehead again, then lets go of my face, putting his hands on mine. "Don't worry, Gemma. I will never be too far away." I nod, knowing that I have lost the battle.

"When will you come back to me?" I finger the hem of his sleeve, toying with it. "After dinner?"

"If that is when you want me, then yes, I will come."

Sighing, I let go of his sleeves and rest my forehead on my palm. My brain works to think of an alternate plan, one that doesn't involve Kartik living with gypsies.

My head shoots up. "The boathouse! Kartik, you could stay in the boathouse!"

Kartik raises an eyebrow. "I could, yes."

I smile. "Please, Kartik? It would be so much closer! And during the day, you could roam around in the woods, if you want. I could even visit you, during meals, and whenever my teachers let us outside. No one would know, except for you and me!" I watch Kartik's face eagerly, waiting for his answer, hating my childish need to have him nearby.

He returns my smile, and nods. "Alright, I will stay in the boathouse. Until dinnertime. I'm not willing to give up my time with you."

I have to force back a squeal of delight, but cannot prevent myself from throwing my arms around Kartik happily. He laughs and returns the embrace. When we let go of each other, I see a twinkle in his eyes.

"I don't think I can deprive you of food any longer," he laughs, gesturing to my considerably thinner figure, thanks to my corset.

I groan. "That was a horrible joke, Kartik."

"It was funny, and you know it." he leans in and kisses the tip of my nose before standing, pulling me to my feet as well. "Now, head downstairs and get Brigid to send some food your way."

"But what about you?" I ask. "You need to eat as well."

"Don't worry," he replies, already halfway to the window. "I'll find something."

"But-"

"Gemma," he turns around, eyes scolding. "Don't you trust me yet? I'll be fine."

I nod. "Tonight, then."

"Of course."

He's gone.

I turn back to my mirror, missing him already. My reflection blinks back at me, hair hanging loose around my shoulders. I reach for my pins to secure the curls into an acceptable hairstyle. When I am done, I peer closely at my reflection.

My cheeks are slightly flushed, paired with emerald eyes that are alive with an emotion that I'm still a bit unfamiliar with. The corners of my pink lips are turned up slightly. But even besides all that, my face is not that of a girl anymore. I'm becoming a woman.

Not yet, Gemma, a voice in my head corrects. You haven't had your debut yet.

My heart stops. The debut. I hadn't given it much thought, what with the trouble in the realms, but now that that is over (with the exception of binding the magic), there is nothing to distract me. After the debut, my season will start. How can my relationship with Kartik, which is frowned upon by society for so many reasons, even have a hope to survive that? Even so, I can't stand the thought of living without him. It's pure agony to just be apart from him now, even knowing that he'll be back tonight.

You can't live this way forever. Be a good girl, Gemma.

I shake my head to clear it of the nagging voice. I don't have to have a season. I'll let my grandmother throw me a party, if she wants, to appease her. It will be a sort of good-bye to the lady I have been groomed to become, so that I can be the woman I intend to be. But after that…I don't want to spend my life with anyone other than Kartik, and I'm sure that he feels the same way, so what's the point in having a season at all? Grandmama can't argue with me. I'll be my own woman, capable of living my own life, and besides, with Father gone, Tom will be my legal guardian, not her. I look into my reflection's eyes defiantly.

That's it, Gem, I tell myself. You'll have a debut, then sit out on your season. You and Kartik will make it work.

I stand, shaking off the last of my doubts. It is my life, and I will do with it as I please.

Oooh, that was interesting! I've never written a love scene before (nor do I have much experience to draw upon, either). Please, please, PLEASE review so that I can work on my skills. Plus, my ankle's busted and I could use the extra cheer. Thanks, lovelies!

Wishing the throbbing would stop,

Shes.A.Dreamer