A loud crash startled Kara awake, dust raining down on her from the roof. The Ragged Flagon was alive with shouts, followed by - to Kara's surprise - the ring of steel. She leaped from bed, rounding the cupboards beside her to find a scene of total disarray: Dirge was on the ground, seemingly out cold; Vekel's nose was spewing blood, Delvin was nowhere to be seen, and Vex and Tonilia were locked in a duel with none other than Lydia.

The sounds had drawn Brynjolf and Eiri from wherever they had been. Eiri immediately rushed over to Kara.

"Are you all right?" When Kara nodded she went on. "What's happening here?"

"A misunderstanding." She'd told Lydia to come look for her body, but she'd been joking, she hadn't thought Lydia would actually do it, especially since she was still alive. Kara stepped forward, over Dirge's prone body. "Hey! Can we stop this for a minute?"

Nobody heard her. Tonilia ducked low and tried to get Lydia in the side with a dagger, but she was wearing her steel armor, and it simply skated off the surface with a ring.

Kara scowled. "HEY!" she shouted at the top of her lungs. Her voice echoed around the sewers, reverberating back to her tenfold.

The duel paused, all combatants looking at her. Everyone's eyes widened, their mouths hanging open. Kara's scowl turned to one of confusion; she looked down and yelped, realizing she was still only wearing her smallclothes. Brynjolf made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a choke.

"Okay, hang on - don't kill each other!" Grabbing Eiri, she dragged her back behind the cupboards.

After her cousin helped her change into freshly laundered clothes, maneuvering her wrapped arm through a sleeve, the two of them rejoined the others. Dirge was still passed out, but Tonilia was tending to Vekel's face. Eiri went to help her. Lydia sent Kara an accusatory glare, eyes narrowed, but she didn't say anything. In fact, it was eerily quiet; it was only after she looked around at everyone gathered that she realized why.

Standing between Brynjolf and the now-present Delvin was a man Kara had never seen before. He was slightly shorter than Brynjolf and much older, though he still had a certain vivacity to him, a strength that lay under the surface, evident from his fierce eyes. His face was covered in several days worth of stubble, and his unkempt grey hair fell to just above his shoulders. His brows were furrowed in a scowl as he spoke in a low voice to his guild mates - for she had no doubt that the man she was staring at was none other than Mercer.

As if he could feel her gaze, he suddenly broke off, turning to look at her. His scowl didn't ease up. Brynjolf and Delvin both glanced around as well, looking for the source of the interruption. Kara couldn't look either of them in the eye, but something about Mercer demanded it, and she couldn't look away.

Finally, he marched over to her, stopping several feet away from her. "So. I suppose I have you to thank for this infiltration."

Kara's eyes flicked to Lydia, before back. "I suppose you do."

"Who the hell is she?"

"My housecarl."

It wasn't Mercer who exclaimed, but Tonilia, as she looked up from Vekel. "You're a Thane? Of where?"

"Whiterun. Look, it's a long story-"

Mercer rounded on Brynjolf. "I thought you said she was an immigrant. What kind of immigrant is already Thane of a city within two weeks of their stay?"

Eiri was staring now, too. "That's an excellent question. What did you do, Kara?"

"I-I-" The words stuck in her throat, threatening to choke her if she didn't come clean now. She sat down in the nearest chair, looking down at her bandaged arm. "Oh fuck, where do I even begin?"

"I think it's about time we knew the truth, lass," Brynjolf said, speaking for the first time. When she glanced at him, his green eyes were bright. "All of it."

Kara took a deep breath, looking back at the table, at her hands. She'd been marked in so many ways, both visible and invisible, some of the scars going deeper than her skin. There were so many things she'd kept inside, letting them fester and rot, like the cuts on her arm. She remembered what Eiri had told her, about the guild being the least likely people to judge her in Skyrim. Maybe Eiri - and Brynjolf - were both right. Maybe it was time to wash her hands free of the blood that covered them, to rinse out the stains. But would they ever truly be free?

Kara waited until Eiri had taken care of both Vekel and Dirge, who was given permission to leave, and everyone had calmed themselves and taken a seat. Mercer was the only one who remained standing, leaning against the bar, arms folded over his chest.

"Talk," he demanded.

Kara swallowed hard. "I was born here, in Skyrim. My mother was an Imperial trader, my father was a Nord businessman. Or, so he claimed. When I was very young, we relocated to Cyrodiil, my mother's home. Abandoned by her own family, we lived in a tiny shack in the Waterfront District. We were dirt poor, and things were horrible. That's when my father left for the first time."

Delvin looked confused. "Where did he go?"

"Everywhere. For weeks, months at a time, he would vanish. My mother always knew, and every time he left, she would get very emotional. I was still so young at the time, I didn't understand it. Things were so bad when he was gone that my mother and I took to traveling to Bruma, to stay with my father's brother, Harald - Eiri's father. But as I got older and started to ask more questions, the secret came out: my father was the leader of a ring of thieves that hit major cities. He was so convinced of fabled riches and glory that he abandoned his own family and left me to be raised by a woman he'd promised the world." She couldn't help how bitter she sounded. She'd already lived it; to experience it once more was torture.

"I think I remember hearing about them," Mercer said thoughtfully. "Based out of the Imperial City, right?" Kara nodded. "Yeah. There were three. One was all women, another full of Khajiit and Dunmer, and the other one. Small-time jobs, minor crime. What was their name? Crow-something or other."

"The Crow's Nest. It was supposed to be a close-knit group of friends, dreamers like my father, to seek solace and find their fortune. My father's name was Hrokr, which, I guess you know, means-"

"Crow. Clever," Mercer said dryly. "Of course. I remember the other two went belly up first. Then they ran into some trouble a few years back, vanished off the map."

Kara nodded. "My mother died when I was twelve. I went to live with Eiri and her family in Bruma, because my father was gone - in Anvil or somewhere, working a long job with his gang - and I lived there for four wonderful years. I could almost forget that he'd left me behind. Of course, I should have known it wouldn't last. Uncle Harald fell from the roof of the Great Chapel of Talos - though I suppose I should call it the Temple of the Eight Divines now, thanks to the Aldmeri Dominion - and broke his back. He was a stonemason, but after that, he couldn't work and again, we fell on hard times. Then, when I was sixteen, my father arrived out of the blue."

"Let me guess," Vex drawled, "he offered you a way out?"

Kara nodded again. "He promised me when I was a little girl that when I was older, he'd bring me with him. Well, I'd forgotten all about that promise, to be honest, and by that time, I wasn't sure I wanted it. But I fell into his trap, just like my mother did when they met here, twenty years ago." Kara shook her head, frowning. "You just don't know what he's like, my father. He's so charismatic, he always knows the right things to say… He could convince his followers to die for him, if need be, and frankly…" She refused to look at Eiri. "I was tired of being poor. My entire life, it was the same damn thing: loved ones working so hard every day, and still not making enough to provide for their children. It was sickening, knowing that there were people out there sitting on riches and doing nothing worthwhile, hoarding their money and crushing the less fortunate under their feet."

"So she left," Eiri said softly. "I knew it couldn't last, but I felt like I was losing my older sister. She ran off, chasing after her father, doing her damnedest to follow in his stupid footsteps. My parents were so disappointed."

Kara sighed. "What was I supposed to do? The man I'd been wanting around my entire life had come knocking; was I just supposed to say no?"

"He was your father," Tonilia said, shrugging.

"Yeah, but maybe that was my problem. I was so desperate for some recognition, some approval, that I did something stupid." Kara shook her head. "Anyway, we moved back to the Waterfront. He had all these plans to work the Imperial City, said he was tired of traveling and wanted to stay in one place so I could find some sort of stability. Like there's anything stable about being a thief. We started doing jobs everywhere simultaneously, groups of us, before meeting at designated places in the city to switch our goods and stash them until we could sell them. Things started to look up, for a time."

"I'm hearing a but there, curls."

"But," Kara said, nodding, "we were betrayed. It all happened so fast. We pulled a job in the Temple District, and we headed to the Arboretum. We'd used it as an exchange place before; that was probably our mistake. It was me, my father, Jona, and Rayce. We were supposed to meet Septimus, Mercutio, Dibella, and Iphigenia. We waited for an hour, looking more and more suspicious. We wanted to go, but my father wanted to stay, to wait. He had such faith in his merry band that he never thought he needed to distrust any of them."

"Stupid," Vex muttered. Brynjolf sent a glare her way, and she shrugged, as if to say, What?

"It was stupid," Kara admitted. "But it couldn't be helped at that point. The guards surrounded us before we could escape. They took us to the Arena, shouting through the streets all the while. The Crow's Nest had become quite well-known, and the guards decided to make an example of us. By the time we reached the Arena, half the city had shown up, though it was the middle of the night."

"People are like that," Mercer said, indifferent. "They'll always show up to watch a good slaughter."

"Well, they got what they wanted, then. Septimus and Dibella were nowhere to be found, so we immediately knew who was behind it. They'd made a deal with Acrisius Lex, the captain of the guard, and he let them go in exchange for us. They hung Marcutio in front of everyone. While he was still twitching, they cut Iphigenia's throat."

Tonilia lowered her head into her hands. Everyone but Mercer looked equally as shell-shocked. Eiri shook her head, dumbstruck. "You never told me that."

"Why would I? You were twelve years old. You didn't need to hear that sort of thing."

"But how come you're alive?" Vex asked. When Brynjolf turned to look at her again, she hastily added, "No offense."

"None taken. They had Jona and Rayce up there. Gods know what they planned to do to them. But then suddenly, a figure stepped forward. Couldn't tell if they were a man or a woman, seeing as they wore a cloak and a hood, but they walked over to Acrisius and told him something. I don't know what, but they cut the four of us down, and decided to clap us in irons instead."

Eiri was wide-eyed. "And you don't know who it was?"

"Nope, not at all. They left as quickly as they'd come, and we were a little busy being dragged off to the Imperial prison, so I never got a chance to find out. We were given a trial, though there was no point because everyone knew we were guilty. My father, Jona, and Rayce were sentenced to ten years, but as I was still only sixteen, I was given only three. And then…" She looked down at her arm. "They branded all of us as thieves, and threw us into our cells."

"They…branded you?" Tonilia sounded sick, and even Vex looked a little green. "Like animals?"

"Cyrodiil is different. They are far less tolerant than here, especially after the White-Gold Concordat, with the Dominion breathing down your neck everywhere you go."

When Delvin spoke, he sounded eager. "Can we see it?"

"Ooh, yeah!" Vex exclaimed. "I want to see!"

"Now wait just a minute," Eiri said loudly. "She's under my care, and with all the injuries she's sustained to that arm, I really don't think-"

"It's fine, Eiri. If they want to see so badly, they can."

Everyone crowded in close, except Eiri, Mercer, and Brynjolf. Kara unwrapped the bandages slowly, only to the point where her scar ended, and her cuts began. It was several inches long, just below her elbow. The scar had turned white since then, and it shone in the half-light. It was a capital letter T, the long stroke ending in a dagger's blade, declaring to the world that not only was she a thief, but she was stupid enough to get caught.

"Did it hurt?" Tonilia asked.

"Like Oblivion itself."

After Eiri shooed them away and redid her bandage, Mercer spoke up. "You still haven't told us how this one here became your housecarl."

Kara looked over at Lydia with a start. She'd been so quiet, Kara had almost forgotten about her entirely. She looked shocked, numb. Kara couldn't blame her. She wasn't the only one who had gotten something unexpected out of their arrangement.

"Right. I was released from prison three years later, after quietly going insane. I made a choice to give up that life, since all it ever brought me was trouble, just like my father. I decided to go to the only place I'd ever felt was home: Bruma, to Eiri's family. But when I arrived, I found she had run away, to Skyrim. Her parents begged me to go after her, so I did. I crossed the border pretty easily through Pale Pass, which should have struck me as strange, but didn't. Normally, there are a few guards, checking to make sure you aren't smuggling skooma or anything, but there was no one. I didn't know why at the time, didn't question it. I found out a few minutes later when I was ambushed."

"My, you are unlucky," Delvin said with a chuckle. "By who?"

"Imperials. They'd attacked a group of people, and I was nearby. I tried to escape, but they saw me, and assumed I was with them. I told them I wasn't, but of course, they saw my scar and didn't believe me. I tried telling them my mother's name, since my grandparents had once been quite rich and influential in the Imperial City, but nobody listened. They hit me. I fell, hit my head on a rock, and that was it, light's out. I came to in a wagon on its way to Helgen with three of the men they'd captured. One was a horse-thief named Lokir, mistakenly captured like me. The other two were something called Stormcloaks."

Brynjolf swore. "You got caught up with them?"

Kara nodded. "One was named Ralof, the other was…someone important. Their leader."

His eyes nearly fell out of his head. "You were captured with Ulfric Stormcloak?"

"I'm assuming so, since that's what Ralof kept calling him. His mouth was bound. At the time, I didn't know - I might have been born here, but for all purposes, I'm from Cyrodiil - but I learned later, when they were lining us up for the chopping block and some Imperial jackanape was ranting about how he'd murdered your High King."

Eiri had her hands over her mouth. "They were going to kill you?" she squeaked.

"Yep. I tried telling them I wasn't part of whatever it was that was going on, but it was like I was suddenly speaking another language. They were just about to cut off my head when…" She broke off, looking around. "Okay, this next bit is going to sound ridiculous. If you think I'm fucking crazy, I will completely understand."

"What happened?" Brynjolf demanded.

"They were about to cut off my head, when a giant black dragon swooped out of the sky and started attacking Helgen."

"Hey," Delvin said, frowning and shaking a finger. "Hey, hold on, I heard about that! Folks in Falkreath have been talking about it almost nonstop."

"It's true," Lydia said, her voice subdued. "The dragons are returning."

"Hey, you're ruining the story!" Kara said. "So, crazy as that sounds, this dragon attacks. The Stormcloak, Ralof, ended up saving my life. We managed to escape Helgen - looking back, I'm not even sure how - before heading to Riverwood, where his family lives. We decided to part ways, since I needed to find Eiri, but then his sister asked me if I could go to Whiterun to ask the Jarl for help. I didn't want to, but I figured if Eiri had gone anywhere, it would be Whiterun."

Eiri nodded. "It's true. I was going to stop in Falkreath, but a Khajiit on the road told me Whiterun was the center of Skyrim. I thought I'd have better luck finding Delvin there."

Delvin grinned toothily at her. Kara continued on.

"Anyway, long story short: I warned the Jarl, Riverwood was sent aid, and just as I was preparing to be on my way, another dragon attacked. I literally could not make this shit up if I tried. The Jarl, deciding for whatever reason, that I'm some sort of mythic warrior, volunteered me to fight it. I didn't want to die, from dragon or otherwise, so I decided it couldn't be that difficult. I went with some of the guards, and I killed it. And then… I absorbed something. Part of it. Its soul, I guess."

The only ones in the room who didn't look surprised were Lydia and Brynjolf. Lydia knew, she'd been there, for the most part, and Brynjolf had pieced it together himself, his theory proved at the College. Everyone else was staring, their eyes wide, mouths hanging open. Kara suddenly flushed. If the black dragon flying over Helgen didn't make them think she was crazy, this would certainly do it.

"You're the Dragonborn?" Eiri asked hoarsely.

"You know, I could've been wrong. I mean, there was a swirly light and the dragon sort of disintegrated, but that could have been anything, right?"

"I doubt it, lass. I saw you, remember? When you took down that dragon up top."

"You never mentioned that," Mercer said, frowning at Brynjolf.

"I didn't really know for sure until we got to the College. She had to prove she was Dragonborn to the woman letting us in, and she…Shouted. As in Thu'um."

Delvin smirked, pulling out a knife to clean his fingernails. "Now, I'm not a Nord, but I'm going to guess that means you're Dragonborn, curls."

Everybody began talking at once, their expressions both shocked and intrigued. The noise pressed in on Kara's head, sparking a throbbing behind her eyes. She held up her hands, calling for them to be quiet.

"Okay, okay. So it's definitely possible. But so what? What does that even mean?"

"It starts with our history, here," Lydia said, her voice rough. "Ysgramor and his companions settled here, bringing with them their Atmoran beliefs. In those days, it was believed they worshipped the Nine Divines, but as totem animals. They were represented as a snake, moth, owl, bear, fox, whale, wolf, hawk, and the dragon, Akatosh. Dragons were still prevalent during those days, and they delighted in knowing the humans worshiped one of their kind. In fact, they encouraged it. However, their hubris was their downfall: they considered themselves far superior to men, ruling over them with the utmost authority. They even bribed some men, giving them power and knowledge in exchange for obedience. These men became known as dragon priests, akin to kings in their revere. They created laws that kept the peace between men and dragons, for a time."

"How do you know all of this?" Brynjolf asked.

"I am a student of history. Being a housecarl is not simply just defending a Thane with sword and shield. It is far more intensive than any realize."

"Well," Kara said, eyebrows raised. "I'm uh, really glad of that. So what happened next?"

Lydia took a deep breath. "The dragons became tyrannical. Men rebelled, wishing to be free, and the Dragon War began. More to the point of your original question, however, to be Dragonborn means you are imbued with the blood of Akatosh. It is an extraordinary gift. It was once given to the Akaviri, the originators of the historic Blades. They were fabled dragon-hunters during the Dragon War, and they helped Reman Cyrodiil rise to power, and even spread the knowledge that he was the first Dragonborn ruler, but some say that wasn't true, that it was just a rumor to help justify his claim."

"Right," Vex said, nodding. "Pretty much every emperor was Dragonborn. Without the blood, they can't light the Dragonfires and rule. The last great emperor who had the blood was Martin Septim, but he smashed the Amulet of Kings and became the Avatar of Akatosh, transforming into a dragon to defeat Mehrunes Dagon. After he sent Dagon back to Oblivion, he was petrified into a statue. They say it's still there at the Temple of the One. Or, it was." Vex's expression darkened. "Who knows what those damned elves might have done to it?"

"They say Martin Septim was the last, greatest Septim. The blood of the Dragonborn emperors died with him, if he truly did die. But that was all two hundred years ago, in the Third Era," Lydia pointed out. "Who knows what might have happened between now and then? You could be a descendant."

"Oh, please," Vex snapped. "She could not! Martin didn't have any kids."

Lydia stiffened. "And how do you know that?"

"It's in practically every history book about the emperors. Uriel Septim's legitimate sons were all assassinated before they had kids, and Martin was a priory brother before the Hero of Kvatch found him. The Septim line ended with him. That's it." Vex almost grinned. "It's a shame, though. If you were the lost empress of Cyrodiil, you could've erased some of those outstanding warrants I've got."

"I can't believe this," Eiri said, shaking her head. "I just…I can't believe this."

Lydia was still scowling when she turned her attention to the younger girl. "And why not? It is not so unheard of. All Nords are capable of mastering the Thu'um, it is just incredibly difficult. For those who are Dragonborn, it's simpler."

"Yes, but she's not just a Dragonborn, that's the point. She's the Dragonborn. Haven't you heard of the Prophecy?"

"What Prophecy?" Brynjolf asked, glancing between them. Lydia's frown deepened. "What are you on about?"

A chill suddenly descended over Kara. The Prophecy. The stories her father had told her. But she thought it couldn't be true, that it was just a Nord thing, that it had nothing to do with her. True, the blood was rampant in many Imperials, in the families of the emperors long ago. So why shouldn't she have it, being Nord and Imperial? But why should I have it at all?

Eiri had vanished, returning moments later with a book, the cover black, a silver symbol emblazoned on the front. She was flipping through it so fast, her hands blurred. Finally, she held it open somewhere near the end, reading it aloud:

"I leave you with what is known as 'The Prophecy of the Dragonborn.' It is often said to originate in an Elder Scroll, although it is sometimes also attributed to the ancient Akaviri. Many have attempted to decipher it, and many have also believed that its omens had been fulfilled and that the advent of the 'Last Dragonborn' was at hand. I make no claims as an interpreter of prophecy, but it does suggest that the true significance of Akatosh's gift to mortalkind has yet to be fully understood.

When misrule takes its place at the eight corners of the world

When the Brass Tower walks and Time is reshaped

When the Thrice-Blessed fail and the Red Tower trembles

When the Dragonborn Ruler loses his throne, and the White Tower falls

When the Snow Tower lies sundered, kingless, bleeding

The World-Eater wakes…"

"…and the Wheel turns on the Last Dragonborn," Kara finished, her voice quiet.

Eiri looked up, puzzled. "You know it?"

She nodded. "My father, he used to tell me that sometimes when I was younger. He was never around, so I lived for those times, but I didn't think it meant anything. I just thought it was a Nord story."

"Don't you get it, though? It does mean something. Like Vex said, Martin was the last and greatest Septim, the last Dragonborn emperor." She looked back down. "'When the Dragonborn Ruler loses his throne, and the White Tower falls.' That has to be him! 'When the Snow Tower lies sundered, kingless, bleeding' - I bet that's Skyrim!"

"How d'you figure?" Brynjolf asked.

"Well, think of it. Towers are high structures, right? If you were on one, you'd feel like you were on top of the world. Skyrim is the furthest north in Tamriel you can get."

"Wait. The top of the world…" Jarl Balgruuf's words came back to Kara, as she remembered that shout down from the mountains. The Throat of the World. "Or it's a mountain."

"Or it could be my growing lack of interest," Mercer said loudly, standing up. "Look, who cares about all this prophecy nonsense? It's a bunch of bullshit. I don't care who you claim to be, or whether or not you're more special than the next lowlife who finds their way down here. What I am concerned with is all three of you people suddenly knowing everything there is to know about us. You," he pointed at Lydia, Kara, and Eiri, "do not belong here, and frankly, you're lucky we have a rule against killing, because I don't like you knowing our secrets."

Kara glanced at Brynjolf. "So what do you want us to do?"

Mercer didn't answer, too busy stroking his chin thoughtfully. He seemed to be talking to himself. "On the other hand, everyone is now convinced we just did the impossible by breaking into the College. This could work in our favor…" He looked over at Kara. "Look, I'll make you a deal: you can stay here, if you do something for me on this heist of yours that ends this entire insane thing. All right?"

"What do you want me to do?"

"You'll know when you get back from Falkreath Hold. Everything depends on Clavicus Vile, as I've been led to believe. Do we have an agreement?"

"I'm not going to agree to something if I don't know what it involves!"

"You're not really in a position to wriggle out of this. Either do it, or get your ass booted out. It's no skin off my back."

"Lass, just do what he says," Brynjolf said.

Kara glared at the two of them. "Fine. I'll do whatever you want. But this all depends on Clavicus Vile, whatever that means, so you better fucking hope this goes according to plan."

"It will," Eiri said smoothly. "Now that we have the daedra heart, we can begin the next step. Tomorrow morning, we'll go. I'll teleport us to Helgen - or, what's left of it - and we'll find where Delvin's scouts have claimed Vile's shrine is. Okay?"

"Who's going?" Mercer asked.

"Me," Brynjolf said immediately. "Along with Eiri, Kara, and Delvin."

"That's not much defense lined up there."

"Hey," Kara snapped. "I can fight."

"Regardless, I'd feel better if someone else went with you."

"What about you, Mercer?" Tonilia asked.

He snorted. "You're kidding, right? This is your mess. You idiots can clean it up."

"I'll go," Lydia announced, standing up. "It's my duty to protect Kara at any cost, and I have extensive training with various weapons and armor types."

"I don't care," Mercer remarked, waving his hand indifferently. "Somebody go, somebody don't go, I do not care. Come back when you've finished this nonsense, and we'll make our plans for the heist. Goodnight." He went through a doorway near the bar, disappearing down a corridor. A door shut somewhere beyond.

The silence left in his wake was so thick, it could have been bottled and sold. Kara didn't know what else to say. She had just spilled her guts, telling a bunch of thieves her entire life story, and suddenly there was a very real possibility that she was this fabled Dragonborn and that there might be a prophecy about her. It was just too much for her to even consider; her head ached, more fiercely than before. She was sick of the whole situation, and couldn't wait to be done and gone, regardless of who she was. Let's hope we actually live to see Cyrodiil once more.

Everybody cast Kara one last lingering look, before going their separate ways: Delvin and Vex followed after Mercer, talking quietly as they disappeared from sight; Tonilia hung back to check up on Vekel, their voices a low murmur; Eiri departed to put her book away, her head down.

Kara crooked a finger, beckoning Lydia over, rejoicing in the knowledge that there was someone just as lost as her, if not more. "Look, you're probably exhausted. Go to the Bee and Barb. Tell Keerava you're my housecarl, and that you have my permission to stay in my room. I'll come get you tomorrow, all right?" Lydia opened her mouth, but Kara held up a hand. "I know you have questions. I'll answer them as best as I can when all of this is over, I promise. Okay?"

Lydia looked like she wanted to say more, but she just nodded. Kara waited until she left, before running a hand through her hair and turning around.

Brynjolf was still there, sitting at one of the tables, watching her from across the room. Once she got over her initial shock at seeing him still there, she met his gaze fiercely, wondering what he was thinking, daring him to call her an idiot, a liar, to say she was a fool, to spout all the things she already knew were true.

He was the first one to look away.

Hey guys - I start my second year of college tomorrow, so I might be a bit busier, but I'm still going to try and update as frequently as possible! Thanks to everyone who reads, faves, follows, and/or reviews. You make writing ten times more fun :)