Faster now, Curt sped. What was it that he was feeling? Confusion? Frustration? Fear? He racked his drug-weakened memory. What was Rhea wearing? Was her hair up, or down?

Not too far away, he saw the spot where he and Rhea had entered, an arch of golden balloons weighed down by and tied to rocks. He very nearly left at that point. A duck's quack shook him out of his daze and reminded him of his search. He looked to see where the quacking came from, and in the direction of his scope was Rhea, sitting on a bench. She was looking directly at him, not with a smile or a frown but with a playful, ambiguous grin, like she knew a notorious secret.

Clenching his fists to calm himself down, Curt made his way to the weathered bench accommodating Rhea. He slammed his body down, making sure to seat himself as far as he could away from her.

"You found me!" she said in delight.

"Why the fuck did you do that?" he asked calmly, trying to hide his irritation.

"Curt, don't be angry."

"You can't just tell someone to 'not be angry,' not be whatever."

"I was…I just wanted to see if you could find your way back to me."

"What the fuck kind of reason is that! You don't take anything seriously, do you?" Curt questioned, allowing his emotion to show this time.

"I'm sorry, Curt." Rhea replied timidly, retreating into herself. Then she shuffled on the bench to sit closer to Curt, who was pouting and looking off into space.

She grabbed his shoulders, turned him to face her, and kissed him full on the mouth. In surprise, Curt left his eyes open, seeing Rhea dig deeper into his lips. He closed his eyes but drew apart from her, pushing her away with undetermined strength.

"You get a kick out of playing with people?" Curt asked, his voice cracking. "Fuck." he muttered. "What are you trying to do to me?"

"Nothing—I don't get a kick out of playing with people. Look, it was the only way to…I didn't know you wanted something serious. You have to understand, I'm not used to that."

"You can forget about ever getting used to it then."

Curt could very well have leaped off of that bench. He walked off hastily, clearly seeking the golden-arched entrance. Rhea didn't run, but trailed after him. She didn't say anything to try to reconcile their situation.

(----------)

Remaining in shadows, Rhea pursued Curt. As he walked, he kept switching from side to side in the streets. And when he settled on walking on one side, he'd make a sharp turn. He knew that Rhea was following him. The constant turns made Rhea speculate if Curt knew where he was going. He only seemed to be bent on losing her.

Rhea couldn't stand it anymore.

"Curt, I'm not going anywhere." she called out to him.

No answer.

"You can go somewhere with me." somebody said to her.

She turned around and saw a guy, gawking at her maliciously. Another guy walked abreast with him, a similar lascivious intent clearly written on his face.

"Sorry, I'm not interested." she said coldly.

"Nice fishnets you got there." the guy said, seemingly undeterred. "Yeah, nice skirt." the other one hooted along. "You wearin anything under that?"

Curt heard this, and stopped ignoring what was behind him. He didn't make it obvious though.

"What do you say, huh?" the guy continued to taunt Rhea, now gaining hold of her elbow.

"I said I'm not interested."

She shook her arm free of the grasp, but the comrade seized her by the shoulder, burrowing his thumb into her skin.

"Not interested?" he asked mockingly. "Whores don't have a choice."

"Get the hell off of me!" she shouted.

Both men attacked her now, wrestling her against a wall. By this time, Curt was watching the whole thing unfold before him. He doubted that Rhea still knew he was there. She didn't scream for his help. Guilt got the best of him in the end, as he decided to approach her harassers slowly.

He stepped right in the middle of Rhea and the first guy and punched his face. The guy fell on the ground upon impact. The other lunged forward, but Curt punched him in the face too. He was about to deliver another blow when a kick in the back sent him diving forward. This gave the second man a chance to bend down and beat his head. While he attempted to get up, Curt saw Rhea sneak behind the first punk and hammer his head with a solid wooden plank. He smiled, but soon frowned, when the guy punched Rhea's stomach just as he was falling. She fell as well. His anger drove him to finish off the other punk, who was shocked at the status of his fallen friend.

Curt raised his arm and elbowed the guy's head. Then he pulled him in and hit his chest with his knee. Unsatisfied, he yanked the plank from Rhea's hands and smacked the area his knee had collided against on the guy's chest with it.

"How's that for 'going somewhere,' assholes?" Curt asked, kicking each of the hooligans.

"She must've fucked you good then?" the second guy struggled to ask.

"Yeah. Too bad she wouldn't do that to you." he said proudly, spitting at the man to complete his exit.

He left the mess of the two and stooped to pick Rhea up, who gave the impression of being unconscious. He carried her on his arms although he was badly hurt himself.

(----------)

Clutching her sore stomach, Rhea rose from the bed that Curt delicately laid her on. She automatically looked for Curt and found him sitting, but draped asleep, on a love seat, the slope confining to the arch of his back. There was a swell on his forehead, and some blood that dirtied it. It looked like it was wiped quickly, surely by him.

Rhea scampered about and gathered a basin with warm water, a wash cloth, antiseptic, and gauze. She hovered just above him, taking the time to admire his beauty. She knew he would wake up once she started to clean his wound.

When asleep, Curt didn't look like he was forty-two. He seemed so much younger and more peaceful. His demeanor was wiped clean, like a slate. He was innocent again, hopeful and infinitely trusting. Rhea hated to have to tamper with this, but the water was beginning to cool.

After wringing the soaked washcloth, she dabbed it gently on Curt's head. He didn't stir, and so she kissed him. She planted feathery kisses on his temples, his nose, his cheeks, and his chin. And as the task called for it, she pressed the little wet towel a bit harder to remove the blood. At this, Curt started. He opened his eyes and Rhea smiled at him.

"Why are you up?" he asked.

"I have to clean your wound."

"Aren't you hurt too?"

"Not as much as you are."

She paused to rinse and wring the cloth, and pour some antiseptic on it.

"Here comes the antiseptic." she warned Curt sweetly.

"Ah. Ouch." he recoiled, shuddering away once Rhea finished applying the stinging fluid.

She layered the gauze neatly over Curt's cut and ran off, raiding the place for medical tape.

"What are you looking for?" Curt shouted out.

"Cloth tape." Rhea voiced in retort.

"Don't bother, there isn't any here. I don't need the gauze."

Rhea returned. "This your place?"

"Yeah. I didn't know where else to take you."

She walked over to the love seat to occupy the other half. She carefully took the gauze off Curt's forehead.

"Thanks." she said gratefully.

"You're not pissed at me?"

"You saved me. I'd be an ingrate to bitch at you and shove you off." Rhea said, rubbing her arms. "Even if you didn't, you don't deserve all that, not from me."

"But I was such an asshole to you." Curt whispered apologetically.

"All the more reason for me to try harder."