Hei awoke to the blinding glare of the sun against his closed eyes. He cracked one open in annoyance, wishing for a few more hours of rest. He turned away from the sun, feeling strands of hair tickle his chest as he shifted. He stilled as he stared down at the blanket of silver hair that littered across his chest and abs. He gazed at the small bruised figure lying beside him, her face tucked into the crook of his neck, a leg of hers resting atop one of his own. He felt his arm under her and squeezed her tightly. A warmth swelled in his center as he remembered all that had happened the night before.

The memory of her soft lips and the tender pull of her kiss came back to him in vivid detail. As he remembered the sweetness of her tongue and the taste of their essences mingling he wondered how he could ever forget such a sensation. Looking down at her, he recalled that same forgotten beauty he'd rediscovered last night. One that he might've looked over in the past. Hei still found it baffling that he couldn't recognize all that she was before. All that she could become.

But then he remembered her tears. He remembered a body covered in shallow wounds and dark bruises. He remembered how her body recoiled under his gaze, and away from him. Not wanting to be seen, or touched. Wishing to become something unheard of. His heart reflected the rage he felt then. The worry that struck him and demanded answers. The shame that made him shrink into himself and made him feel unworthy of her support and concern. The shame that urged him to lock himself away, only to be drawn out by her kiss alone.

He watched her slowly open her eyes as a finger instinctively traced the surface of his skin. He smiled at her pink cheeks and bright eyes. She looked up at him, her hand reaching up to cup his cheek. Her thumb wandered over the surface of his soft lips. The two sat up and Hei pulled her closer, tilting her head up giving himself more access to her lips.

"Hei," Yin called, slowly succumbing to his alluring pull.

He leaned in closer, tasting her breath and feeling the essence of her flesh as it neared him. "Can I kiss you?" He asked, as if last night had never happened. As if their moment together had only been apart of a lucid dream he was having. As if them sharing a moment like that could only a product of some sort of twist of reality.

Her eyes slid to a close as she answered by eliminating the distance between them. They came together again, their lips pushing against each other like the tides' soft collision with the shore. Their senses awoke as they re-familiarized themselves with the pleasure of this newfound intimacy. Hei pressed his lips against her firmly, feeling her tongue seep into his mouth and stir up a swirl of pleasure only she could activate within him.

They pulled apart, their mouths hovering over one another. The warm air that pushed from their lungs sprung forth and littered their bodies with a warmth that would simmer in them throughout the day.

The moment was interrupted however, by the rumble of their empty stomachs. Hei slid out from under her, grunting as he stood on two wounded and unsure legs. He stumbled and shifted his torso to lean against the wall beside him. Yin shot up, her features alight with worry.

"Hei!" She cried. "Don't stand!"

"It's okay, I'm fine."

"You're not!" Yin placed a hand on his chest and slipped her other hand behind him. "Lie back down, you should rest..."

"You're hungry aren't you?" He placed a quick kiss to her forehead. "Let me make us some breakfast. It'll be quick."

She tucked herself under his arm and coaxed him into leaning onto her smaller frame. "At least let me walk you..."

The two waddled over to the open kitchen despite Hei's reluctance to receive help. Looking at the bruises that littered her skin he feared his weight alone would harm her. Though he was in much worse shape than her, he wanted to offer all his support. He wanted to dedicate himself to her. Seeing her hurt, knowing it was a product of his neglect, it made him feel unworthy of her help.

Yin could hardly feel his weight on her, but she could feel his trembling muscles and the push of his lungs as he tried to steady himself without her support. She sighed, wishing he was more compliant towards her attempts to take care of him. She was the reason for his suffering, she'd put him in this position. She'd hid her fault behind a mask and even now she was too cowardly to confess to her treachery. Tending to his every need was the only thing that could ease the weight off her now heavy soul.

"What are you making?" She asked as he gathered supplies from several corners of the kitchen.

"It's okay Yin," He answered, knowing what she wanted.

"I can make it," Yin offered eagerly. "I really don't mind."

"It's fine, Yin." Hei replied strongly, wanting to instill in her a confidence in his abilities. "I can take care of both of us,"

Yin clung to him. "You shouldn't need to..."

"Yin...?"

"...Pancakes?" Yin questioned, her fingers running over the pancake mix box. "I can make them for you!"

"...Can you?" Hei nearly laughed, mirth seeping through his voice. He'd always been the one to cook for them, what with his big appetite he had a lot of practice. He couldn't imagine the blind girl cooking for him. Having spent most of her life as a doll, he doubted she'd ever learned how to cook.

Yin's cheeks flushed as an odd heat burned in her chest. "I can try!" She felt her lips press into a pout as her eyebrows furrowed. She stopped for a moment, realizing that she recognized this sensation. She'd felt it often as a child. She had always been easily flustered as a girl. Yin had almost forgotten what the stubborn pout she constantly wore felt like. Her pout dissolved into a soft smile however, finding it hard to remain embarrassed when rediscovering an emotion that reminded her of the pleasant past she had.

But she was snapped out of her reverie at the sound of Hei's adamant objection. Studying his tattered and disabled state, Yin knew she would have to hold fast. She rejected his demands to take care of her, her guilt pushing her to do more for him. Her chest filled with determination as she decided she wouldn't allow him to lift a finger for neither himself or her. Not while she was around. Not while she was living with the memory of what she'd done.

Hei sighed, trying to insist that he was fine on his own. But despite how persistently he tried to dismiss her, she was painfully stubborn. Especially for a doll. So he let her fret over the ingredients. He wanted to let his heart be lifted by her confused determination, he wanted the bubble of laughter to rise in his throat and let him forget about himself. But as he looked at her, he could hardly see past the injuries she bore. He stared intently at the bruises that peeked out at the sun, and the forming scars that ran along her exposed skin. His eyes burned a hole into the abstract painting of pain hidden beneath her clothes.

'It should be me,' He thought to himself. 'I should be carrying those scars,'

Hei couldn't stop himself from agonizing over what he'd let happen to her. And the fact that he still didn't know just what had happened. He mood darkened as stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her. Yin tensed under him, sensing the tainted atmosphere. He clung to her tightly, trying to apologize, to protect. Trying to soak up the marks on her skin and let them darken the marks on his.

"Hei..?" Yin gently grabbed at the arms draped across her shoulders.

"Never again," His nose pressed against the back of her ear, his breath tickling the side of her neck.

"Hei..." Yin sucked in a breath at the feel of his closeness.

"I'll never let this happen to you again." Hei tried to hide the darkness that was beginning to envelope his eyes.

Yin turned to him, her hand reaching up to cup his cheek. "I'm okay, alright? You're the one who needs my help."

Hei pressed his lips against her forehead. "I don't ever want you going back there," He spoke against her skin.

Yin sighed, not wanting to think about or fully admit to how bad things had gotten at Alucricity. She knew things were getting dangerous, and a big part of her considered her other options -which were very few- but she still wasn't sure about leaving yet. All she knew for sure was that she needed Hei. She needed to be with him, to remember what it felt like to be supported and encouraged without feeling like she owed him something in return. Of course she felt the need to repay him at times, but she knew his opinion of her would shift simply because she wouldn't obey his command.

"Things are... complicated right now, but I don't think they're all bad..." Yin reassured, uncertainty sprinkled throughout her tone.

"I don't care." Hei squeezed tighter, reminding himself of the snug way she fit into his arms. "I want you here with me,"

Yin leaned into him, feeling the vibrations rippling through his chest as he spoke. "I need you with me..."

Yin stepped into to his hold, pressing herself against him. She stood on her toes, stretching her body toward his and planting a soft kiss on his lips. He kissed back full heartedly, letting the gentle pull of her soft lips calm him.

"I want to be here for you," Yin confided. "You know I'd never just leave."

They stood together for a long time, their melded bodies soothing the souls of one another if only for a moment.

For months, Hei kept a smuggled Yin in his apartment. Together they developed methods for avoiding Huang and making sure they weren't seen together by anyone important. Hei made sure that Yin had her spectre out before he answered the door, that way she'd see the signal -a thumb tucked between Hei's first and middle finger. Yin became a master at ducking behind the kitchen counter and slipping into the next room whenever the signal was given -a thumb tucked between Hei's first and middle finger. She became the airless weight beneath the disarray of blankets he sometimes left out for her to hide in. -And if all the elements were just right, all she had to do was remain rooted in a perfect stillness.

As time passed, she was able to move even without the signal. She could tell by the tense in his shoulders and the immediate hardening of his voice that he was being approached by Huang.

Despite the growing threat of Huang, they couldn't find it in themselves to let fear envelope them. Though they still couldn't help but worry over one another at times, they clung to each other when the heat of conflict was upon them. For the most part, their union had become a place of protection and warmth. A home without a house. And when the couple looked to the Ascensia, they found that it's grand, ever stretching stem being kept strong by the fully developed roots and the budding flower head that had sprouted between the healthy leaves had perfectly reflected what had happened between them.

Despite the panic they'd felt for each other, they'd managed to find a moment of solace. Of peace. And in that moment they were finally able to come together and fully embrace the relationship that had developed between them. A relationship that they had grown and yet denied the core aspects of in order to avoid the downsides of its complexity. But now that the air around them had been liberated, the flower finally had the strength to grow. And so did they.

So when Hei was ordered to go back to work despite how obviously unfit he was to handle the gruesome tasks his job demanded, Yin would force herself to look at the Ascensia. She would look at what they'd built together and remember how frail and stubborn the thing had been when they first planted it. She would remember the hard times and understand that there was still so much more to see once they overcame the struggle. Things wouldn't- couldn't clear up out of nowhere. She would have to tough it out. And trust in him was all she needed. Trust in the fact that even though he would get hurt, and she might not always be able to help him- he wouldn't blame her. He wouldn't hate her.

Hei couldn't fight her persistence either. Though there were moments when she'd let him off the hook, she still pushed past him to take care of everything, despite her domestic skills being subpar. Seeing her even slightly hurt and having to watch her take care of him at the same time made him feel utterly useless. He too felt as if he'd failed her in a way. But when he looked to the flower, -often peeking at it when Yin was unaware- he knew she wouldn't hold it against him. She never did.

He remembered when they'd first planted it too. It was meant to be her apology to him, an apology he didn't need. He remembered how she'd turned away from him, how alien and isolated he'd felt. When he looked at her now, he finally understood how deeply she wanted to be him. And he knew he'd always feel the same. Though he doubted the Ascensia was some magical flower that would keep them protected, he knew something about it kept them together. It had been planted in a new form of togetherness, and became a promise. A promise to fight for their relationship, and for whatever it might become. And he couldn't say he wasn't pleased with the outcome.