From the moment I awoke, memories surged through my mind of the night before. My confession, Erik's outburst and crazed emotions, the shock in seeing his complete face for the first time and knowing whatever he expected to be there had been stolen.

It was not surprising that I would have passed out, completely drained as I was.

What was surprising was Erik's absence.

I flung myself from the bed, a desperation eating at my insides. In my hurry, I all but deposited myself onto the floor before my rational side could check in.

Why should I be so scared to wake and find him gone?

It's not like we had ever shared a room…

Grimacing, I knew why. I was terrified that in the time I had spent sleeping, that man who was so prone to overreaction and overthinking would try to escape.

Or maybe because everyone I have ever loved has abandoned me or been ripped away.

The task of forcing myself to calm down didn't come easily. After I'd changed into something less.. crumpled as I was still wearing yesterday's clothing, I found myself charging out of my room, fear clinging to me like cigarette smoke. Unpleasant and stinky.

Casting my eyes about the room, panic bubbling in me as I struggled to locate Erik. We were not in a large apartment and he'd claimed the couch for his sleeping quarters, so it wasn't like he could hide anywhere.. Adding his incredible height and larger than life aura that burned brighter than most beacons…

Not immediately locating him dropped a weight that felt suspiciously like my heart into my stomach.

The kitchen, dining, and sitting area could be seen all at once, the only space not readily seen was the bathroom where the haunted girl had lurked in the mirror. My feet led me to that closed door faster than they should have and burst inside when I heard no tell tale signs of a shower running.

...I should have knocked.

A quick intake of breath announced that I was not, to my relief, alone. I stood in the doorway, steam billowing out of the room and spilling behind me, utterly stockstill. Shock , I realized belatedly.

I'd noticed yesterday that this bathroom had an interesting addition that I had never seen in person before—a sauna. One that was currently in use. By a very naked Erik.

We stared at one another, each like prey before a predator. He was seated on the wooden bench, a small towel draped across his hips to provide him with the barest modesty. The rest of him was slim and pale, yet toned in such a way to showcase the strength I knew to reside within him. His skin was unmarred, but something told me it was not always such. His words from last night rung in my head, speaking of the blood that had marked him just as it marked me.

I blinked and it was like a filter over my eyes shifted—switching from focusing on the physical to the emotional.

My blatant appraisal of his form did not go unnoticed as emotions swam before me.

Fear. Embarrassment. Bewilderment. Amusement… Arousal?

"Why good morning, Christine," he greeted, his lips pulling into a small smirk. Like he was trying to deflect the awkwardness of the situation with sarcastic humor. "Are you here to use the sauna as well?"

It was like that episode last night had never occurred. He was back to being himself while I stood here, struggling to push words past my too tight throat. His face was almost a shock, the handsome expression uninterrupted by a mask and a dark brow arching.

Was I speechless from his beauty or because the emotions of panic, terror, and abandonment had been surging through me?

From the way my legs crumpled under me, body folding in on itself as my knees slammed against the hard floor, it could have been both. My hands followed suit, slapping against the floor to stop my complete descent.

"Christine!"

There was a clatter as Erik seemed to struggle to get to me, his large hands—damp and so warm—wrapping around my upper arms to help me up. He cursed, struggling to keep me on my feet and preserve his modesty. My vision began to blur as my body shuddered under the weight of the sobs that ripped through my chest. He settled me onto the same bench he'd vacated, leaving me for a moment.

He turned his back to me, simply grabbing something on the other side of the room, but the sight of him leaving me … I broke.

I was bawling and could barely understand why I couldn't control myself. Why couldn't I stop the fear and terror I'd woken with? Why was it suffocating, consuming me? Was this my new normal? Terrified he would leave me at any moment?

Gentle hands pushed my crazed hair back, caressing my cheeks and smoothing away the tears. I blinked, more tears falling as if needing to replace the missing ones. Erik was kneeling before me, body wrapped in a robe. His expression was filled with worry and concern, eyes bright with affection I found myself latching onto.

"Christine…" His voice was soft, gentle. So lovely. "What is it?"

Concern. Distress. Anxiety. Devotion.

I reached for him, throwing myself into his arms and depositing myself on the ground before him. I wrapped my arms around his neck like I wanted to wrap myself in those sweet emotions, burrow into their warmth and make a home there. His body shuddered as I pressed myself flush against him, only a moment passing before his arms tightened around me.

"Y-Y-You were… I thought— I couldn't.. Fi-find you." The words didn't come out easily. It was a fight, pushing through the sobs, tears, and raw desire to shove my face into his chest. "Thought.. Left.."

He let out a shaky breath as his arms adjusted around me. One was tight around my waist, the limb so long that it spanned my entire frame, while the other fitted itself perfectly to the back of my head, fingers digging into my hair. The weight was comforting as he tried to pull me even closer.

"Dispel those destructive thoughts. I would never willingly leave you." A dark chuckle rumbled in his chest. "That became impossible the moment you admitted to such a miraculous feat as loving me."

He pulled back before I could protest the self-deprecating tone to look down at me. "No, dearest, those words have completely shackled me to you." The look in his eyes became darker, blazing yellow looking more like molten amber that threatened to burn .

My face immediately responded, cheeks flushing, and suddenly I was very aware of how hot the bathroom was. It was then that I realized just how different this hug was from last night.

That had been a soothing embrace after an unstable confession of love and guilt, pure in its nature. The way we had found ourselves wrapped around one another no longer felt pure as the air seemed to condense around us.

Overwhelmed, my mind completely went blank. I was almost certain I blacked out as moments later I found myself sitting at the kitchen table as Erik placed an already prepared breakfast before me: open faced sandwich with hard boiled egg, green onion, green salad and some kind of cheesy substance that was a cross between sour cream and cottage cheese.

I blinked up at him, head tilting a bit in question.

"This is a typical Estonian breakfast." He turned back to the kitchen, the lines of his crisp white shirt creasing with his movement. It made my brows furrow—when had he gotten dressed? He reached into a brown paper bag that I hadn't noticed and pulled out a pretty apple. Within moments, he had it sliced in half and presented one half of the apple to me. It had me questioning where exactly the knife had come from and where did it go?

And then I realized he'd replaced his mask. Even if he had no need of it, he'd still put it back on. The thought that he needed some kind of barrier between us hurt, but I pushed past it. I couldn't be selfish or impatient with him. He obviously bore his own internal scars even if he no longer wore them on the outside. If it took some time to get used to, I could give him that.

"Please eat up as we have a very long day ahead of us, my dear."

My mind was so frazzled that I couldn't stop the flinch even though hurting him was the last thing I wanted.

There was a slight clatter of tea cup hitting the saucer as he finally snapped, his colors swirling. "Christine. You know I do not wish to pry, but my very sanity is at stake. Explain; why you recoil from the simplest of endearments." Discomfort. Worry. Doubt.

My mouth gaped in shock at the sharpness of his green doubtfulness only for a moment before I forced myself to pull it together. It was perfectly logical for him to doubt me when I couldn't even handle that… He deserved an explanation.

"I'm.. trying to work through it." I worried my lip with my teeth in frustration. "I never wanted anything from that horrible experience to paint any of my interactions with you. It's.. hard."

He let out a small sigh, his impatience darkening his aura as he lifted his tea cup for a sip. "What. Happened."

It was a conversation neither of us wanted, but needed to have.

"That phrase.. 'My dear'.." I shivered before forcing it out. "It reminds me.. Vladimir said it. As he was trying to force himself on me."

Shatter.

I stayed perfectly still as Erik's colors darkened to ugly colors I hoped I would never see directed towards me, the fine china of his tea cup shattered as he'd slammed it so suddenly onto the saucer. The amber of his tea had managed not to burn him, thankfully, as it lay in a puddle before him.

Those blazing eyes bored into my very soul, pleading silently to know if it had occurred. I quickly put him out of his misery.

"I killed him.. Before he succeeded." I tilted my head with a self-deprecating smile that would give Erik's emotions a good run for their money. "You would have found my corpse when you'd walked into that room if he had."

My damned eyes had gone misty once more at the very thought of it. Absently, I realized I was traumatized. I had been at his complete mercy and more than likely would have died had I not gone dark and taken his life.

Arms wrapped around me, pulling me into a firm chest that felt like home.

"Shhh… You're safe. No one can hurt you."

Tears rolled as I turned to press my face into his chest, breathing in that wonderful smell that was distinctly Erik. "You're gonna—" my voice cracked with the weight of my sobs threatening to suffocate me— "Be so tired of my crying."

"Nonsense. Think of it as job security. If you're always crying, I will always be needed to wipe them away." I felt a gentle pressure on the crown of my head and hoped fervently that he'd placed a kiss there. "However, I fully intend for your tears to become ones of joy instead of sorrow."

"I look forward to that."

More than anything.

After a moment, he left my side to tidy his shattered cup and I tried to dig back into my cold breakfast. It was hard when I had a lack of appetite. "You mentioned a long day?" I asked in between bites.

"Indeed, dearest. After that little fiasco with the Russians, I believe it prudent to start striking back, don't you?"

I blinked up at him, enjoying the swirl of mischievousness that appeared before me.

"How are we going to do that?"

"We'll start by removing that bounty from your head."

I frowned, letting out a sigh. "Of course she would put out a bounty. How are you going to do that?"

"A magician never reveals his secrets."

"...Except to his lover."

The shade of red the half visible part of his face turned was far more delightful than the swirl of colors. Awe. Embarrassment. Devotion. Anxiety. Joy.

I knew it wouldn't be the last time I tried to inspire such a color.

"Perhaps," he murmured, shy and bashful for a moment. It didn't last long, a smirk pulling at his lips and pushing against the corner of his mask as drops of yellow blossomed before me. He tugged at his sleeves, as if to say the classic magician phrase 'nothing up my sleeves', and then leaned across the small table. I stilled as his hand reached for me, face quickly blooming with color as a small.. large part of me anticipated more than a mere magic trick.

I couldn't even breathe.

His long fingers carefully smoothed my hair back from my shoulder, gold eyes meeting mine intensely. There was something in the air between us, nearly electric, and I found myself wondering why there was a table between us, why my hands were occupied with my half eaten sandwich. I didn't have to wonder if he felt it, too. Not when his entire being was red hot with passion.

Arousal.

Spots appeared in my vision forcing me to quickly suck in a breath, the movement causing Erik's eyes to flicker to my lips. The corners of his eyes hardening, he quickly pulled away and brandished a single rose before me. It was more like a weapon than the punchline of a magic trick. Like the token of affection was more of a shield, a distraction. It took me a solid moment to realize he'd made it materialize out of my hair or behind my ear.

My stomach dropped as I watched him once more shove those emotions away, compartmentalize them and hide them away from me. Did this count as a small rejection?

I wasn't sure, but my heart certainly thought so.

"For you," he murmured quietly, the words shattering whatever moment we'd just shared.

"Thank you," I replied, accepting the red rose. He'd decorated the rose with a sleek black ribbon, tied into the perfect bow. I held it awkwardly, not sure what to do with the first flower I'd ever received.

I glanced back up at him, but he'd pulled a small laptop out of who knows where and was rapidly typing away at it. Anxious. Maybe he was just as unsure about the new dynamic to our relationship as I was. It made me just a little more optimistic.

I eyed him as I gently touched the rose's petals, for the first time trying to place his age. Maybe before he'd been healed it could have been easier to place his age, but now.. He had a timeless beauty to him. He barely looked older than thirty.

Age hadn't been something I'd worried about before—after all, I was a senior inside. Age didn't matter when you didn't have much longer left to live. But now it was different. I was full of vitality, ready to truly live for the first time since my mother passed.

I wanted to know that he'd be with me.. Every bit of the way.

My eyes shuttered with the sudden thought. I wasn't naive enough to believe in happily ever after forever and we'd barely met less than a month ago. There was so much to learn about one another. I knew this was all too fast, probably brought on by an entirely co-dependent relationship and life-threatening situations. But… I felt like he could be my forever. Faults, mood swings and all.

Maybe I was crazy.

Satisfaction curled around him just as he slapped his computer shut with a malicious smile and bounced to his feet.

"We can assume you are nearly bounty free but for the very desperate. A reputation is a very scary thing, you see, my.. Christine." He seemed to pause, a splash of trepidation dying him before it burst with joy. The possessive endearment caused my stomach to warm with happiness, a small smile pulling at my lips.

It stilled there, probably looking rather flat, as he turned away from me—no doubt preparing for our departure—and I watched that emotion being shoved away as well. Did he feel like he couldn't express those feelings to me?

"When do we leave?"

"Now," he declared, quickly reappearing with our packed bags. "Shall we?" He held out his hand to me, the fingers quickly starting to turn inwards as if he'd thought better of the act.

I didn't let him retreat.

I quickly latched onto his hand and he carefully helped me to my feet. "After you, Erik."