"Vincent," Catherine sighed against the side of his neck.
Her hand slid underneath his dark, patched vest and moved across his chest. Only a thin fabric separated her skin from his. She could feel the shape of his ribs, his abdomen, his pelvic bone. His arms pulled her in tighter.
"Are you alright?" he asked. "Is Joe alright?"
"He believes he was hallucinating when he saw you in the hospital," she answered, "but he realizes enough to express his gratitude."
"It was a mistake for me to enter your world so casually," Vincent concluded.
Her delicate fingers wrapped around his shoulder.
"My world is dark and dangerous," she agreed. "You have always been my light. I feel invincible when you are near and because of that I put you in peril, again and again. It must stop, Vincent."
His lucid blue eyes gazed upon her. She could sense his fear and hurried to explain herself:
"I have applied for another position within the D.A.'s office, one that does not hold so many risks."
"You mustn't give up your work for me, Catherine," he objected.
She lifted her hand. Her fingers gently stoked his lips.
"I'm not," she refuted. "I will keep striving to make this city a safer place, but I had no choice. With each investigation I become more afraid of putting the both of us in danger. If I don't act now, I will no longer be able to do my job justice."
She clasped her hands around his waist.
"We've endured so much, Vincent. We deserve a break."
She could tell from the look in his eyes that he picked up on her emotions.
"This decision gives you peace?" he asked.
"Yes."
"It makes you happy?"
A wide smile lit up her face.
"Being with you makes me happy."
Slowly he lifted his hand and ran his fingers through her hair. The sharp tip of a fingernail brushed slightly across her scar. He hesitated, but the intense look in her eyes encouraged him to draw his face closer. Cautiously, he pressed his lips to hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. His fangs scraped lightly over the side of her tongue. Her hand covered the back of his head, her fingers woven into his thick, ochre hair.
In the distance a subway train rushed past, and the pipes rattled with messages of hope and magic.