She clamped her mouth shut, certain now that she didn't want to have said anything.

Thorne turned around. "What is it?"

She shouldn't have said anything. Should have just let him leave. Could she think of a cover for this?

Cress lifted her chin, building her confidence. She was a good liar - the best. Her role was that of a con woman. Everything she said was a perfectly crafted lie.

But as she looked at him, into the blue intensity of his eyes, she realized she had no way to cover it up.

"I was wondering," her mouth acted on its own accord; she hardly felt the words leave her lips, her throat, "if maybe we should kiss. It's... I think it's the only strategy I've yet to approach."

Maybe she didn't need to believe herself a liar. She needed to believe herself a confident woman, who knew what she wanted and that she deserved it.

Cress swallowed hard as she watched his internal battle play out in his features. He was unsure, hesitant. Afraid.

Wanting, maybe.

Yes. He wanted her. She deserved it.

But her role was crumbling even as she constructed it.

"I'm not sure I can do that, Cress." She thought he sounded hurt. Defeated. "That... that's a lot."

She wanted to cry. She hadn't wanted to hurt him, and yet she did anyway. "I'm sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have said anything."

He shut his eyes. She counted three beats of her heart. He opened them. "Do you think it might help?"

Hope sparked before fizzling out again. "I really don't know."

He stared at her for a moment more. "Okay. Just one quick kiss."

She blinked. Her whole body was flooded with anxiety. "Really?"

"For you, anything."

He didn't seem as certain as he sounded, and Cress massaged the back of her neck. "Just a quick one. I hope... I really hope this is okay."

"Cress." His voice was gentle now, warm. "It's okay."

She steeled herself. "Okay."

He walked toward her. She held her shoulders taut, her hands in fists pressed against her thighs.

He stopped so close to her that she could smell his sweat from their workout. "Ready?"

She blinked, unable to form words, hoping it was enough for him to know it was a yes.

He cleared his throat. Wet his lips. Leaned down as she tilted her head back.

It was a quick kiss. She'd barely registered their lips making contact, and she waited. For some sort of feeling. A flood of memories. Perfect clarity.

Nothing happened.

She deflated, believing now more than ever that she was doomed to a shared history with a group of people that cared so much for her, but that she could not connect to.

Thorne frowned. "Nothing?"

She wanted to cry. She shook her head.

He looked at her for a moment, like he was considering something. "I have an idea, but I'll need your go ahead."

"Tell me," she said.

He looked away now, his eyes darting to a point over her head. "What if I- what if we reenacted our first kiss? Not the one on the rooftop, but our first real kiss?"

She knit her eyebrows together. "I don't remember it."

"I do." For some reason, those words stung. "I'll show you what to do. But it was a very real kiss, Cress. I need to know that it's all right for you. I don't want to overstep anything."

She worried at her bottom lip. "Okay. I mean, if it's a real event that occurred, it could jog my memory."

He took a step back, assessing her. "Okay, so your hands were here," he took her offered hands and placed them on either side of his face. His stubble scratched against her palms in a uniquely satisfying kind of way. "And mine," he placed one on her lower back, and she felt that his touch was electric. The other buried in her hair. She liked the feel of it. He wet his lips again and she couldn't keep her eyes from going to them.

She was nervous. But she wanted to do this. Had to try.

But Cress wasn't sure if she wanted to kiss him like this because it may jog her memory, or for other, more dangerous reasons. Like that she just wanted to kiss him.

She could feel herself trembling.

"It's okay to be scared," said Thorne. "We don't have to do this."

She looked at him, at the concern etched in the features that she was holding so gingerly in her palms. "I'm fine."

"When I lean in, push yourself onto your toes. It's how it happened."

"I'm ready."

He tilted his head toward her. She pushed herself onto her toes.

Their noses brushed. He inhaled sharply.

They were kissing.

Cress felt as though she was in another place, another time. Scared but certain that this is what she wanted. Scared but certain that Thorne wanted it, too.

Her hands flitted through his hair. His soft hair, damp with sweat but soft all the same.

And then her heart sped up, pounding so hard she feared it would crack her sternum. Could he feel it? It was beating so quickly.

She felt dizzy, her head seeming to be bursting like a dying star.

She pushed him away.

"Get out." Cress could not feel the words leave her. She wondered if she'd even said them at all.

But why did she want - no, need - him to leave? She wanted him there.

No, she wasn't sure that she did.

What did she want?

"Cress?"

Her vision went spotty, her legs trembling with the weight of holding her upright. Her head ached as though it was prepared to burst into flames. She felt bile rise in her throat.

"Get out!" she shouted, knowing she was only moments away from vomiting.

"Cress-"

"Leave."

She stumbled into the bathroom, not waiting for him to go before she dropped to her knees in front of the toilet and began to retch.

Bits of oat and granola made a reappearance, and she stared at them in wonder, through the blurriness of her vision, thinking of the bulk box she had only just opened, of how they would go to waste.

She faintly heard the click of her front door.

She retched again, and then she was pulled into the memory of Thorne, smiling at her. Touching her shoulder lightly, though restrained.

"Come back to LA with me," he said, "once all this is over. We can get a place. With separate rooms and a big yard and maybe even a cat."

Cress saw herself wanting a cat. Wanting a domestic life with him.

She retched again, though only water mixed with stomach acid came up.

She was pulled somewhere else, into a research facility, staring into a sterile room with a two way mirror and a man. Covered in blue spots. Coughing up blood.

Dying.

And he was telling her that he was her father, that he'd always wanted her. That he was so sorry.

Tears flooded from her eyes now at the vision of him quickly deteriorating.

And again, on a rooftop, helping Thorne hold a gun as she pressed her back against him, aiming for an advancing Lunar guard.

Cress pulled herself off of the floor, her dry heaving having stopped. She rinsed her mouth, robotically found her way to her bed. She fell into it, but she did not sleep.

Thorne

"Leave."

What had he done?

He knew it was a mistake to bring it up, that it'd only hurt them both in the end.

What was going on? She was stumbling into the bathroom.

He had really messed it up this time, and he knew it. Tears pricked his eyes. He was going to lose Cress, for good now.

Unsure what else he could do, he turned and left. Regretting it when he heard her retching in the bathroom. Regretting it as soon as the door secured behind him.

He shouldn't have left. She'd demanded it, but he shouldn't have listened. What if something was seriously wrong? It would be his fault if anything happened.

He turned to the door, hitting it once with the side of his fist. "Cress!" He hit it again. "Cress, are you okay?"

He pressed his forehead against the cool wood of the door, hating every inch of himself.

"Cress," he said softly, speaking to himself now.

He straightened and strengthened his resolve, telling himself that he would check in on her. Or get someone to. He at least needed to go home and give her time to work through this, whatever this was.

And it hurt that he was going to leave her. It hurt that he was going to go home knowing he'd somehow ruined whatever was between them.

It hurt that he'd hurt her.

As soon as he got home, Thorne vid-commed Cinder. It was only just after 5 in New Beijing, and she would not be happy, but he needed her more than ever.

She answered after only one rotation of the connecting icon. "Thorne?"

Her hair was a mess. She'd clearly been deep in sleep. He wondered briefly if he'd woken Kai, too.

"Cinder, I know it's late, but we need to talk."

She groaned, swiping a hand down her face and pulling her hair back, though she had no hair tie to secure it like she usually did. "What's wrong?"

"It's Cress."

She was more alert now. "What's wrong? What happened?"

He explained everything, watching Cinder's expression change from that of confusion to shock to disappointment, and then to concern. "Thorne... that was really bad."

Tears pricked his eyes. He would not cry. "I know. I know. And I just left."

"You can't hate yourself for that," she said. "That was not a mistake. She told you to leave and it was right of you to respect that, no matter how confusing the situation was. Your mistake was kissing her in the first place. Not only do we not know what's wrong with her now, but I can't imagine how you feel."

It had killed him. He'd kissed her, hoping it would fix everything. And it did exactly the opposite. He rubbed his eyes. "Do you think it could... maybe help? Maybe she's remembering."

"Thorne," said Cinder. Her tone made him think of his father when he tried to remind Thorne that he wasn't smart enough to ever be promoted to pilot. He reminded himself that Cinder loved him, unlike his father. "You can't think like that. You can't get your hopes up like that."

He swallowed back tears. "I know. It's hard, though. You should've seen the way she looked at me. She was so afraid. And then she yelled at me." He forced a laugh. "Can you believe it? Cress, yelling?"

Cinder didn't smile. He didn't either. "Thorne, I'm so sorry."

He squeezed his eyes shut. "I am, too." He sighed. "Go back to sleep, Cinder."

"Thor-"

He terminated the comm and threw his port so that it landed behind one of the couch pillows.

He would give her the rest of the day. He'd comm her this evening, to at least make sure she was still breathing. If she didn't respond, he'd ask someone else to comm her. Maybe Scarlet, since she was the most motherly of all of the girls. Or Ze'ev; he'd cared about Cress like a brother.

Someone would get ahold of her. Someone would tell him that she was alive, doing okay, even if he'd made her hate him.

After three days, Thorne was on high alert. He hadn't been able to get ahold of Cress. Scarlet had said that she checked on Cress and had gotten a quick, short response, and that was good enough. She told him to give Cress time to breathe.

But it was not good enough. He needed to know for himself. He needed to check on her, to at least make sure she was eating and drinking water and taking care of herself. It was not enough for her to be alive, he needed her to be thriving, too.

Just as he steeled his resolve, standing up from the chair at the dining room table, there was a knock at the door.

He hadn't ordered anything, and he wasn't expecting any visitors.

He warily made his way to the door, looked through the peephole, felt the air leave his lungs. He fumbled for the lock, throwing the door open and almost making a hole in the wall.

"Cress?"

"I got your address." Cress was staring at the ground, her arms crossed. She was talking like she'd been practicing a speech. "From Cinder, I mean. I hope that's okay. She said it wouldn't be a problem, but it felt intrusive anyway. Though I thought it was better than hacking your files." She grinned, looked at him, bit her lip. "I'm sorry about Sunday," she said. "I don't know what happened. It was really sudden. My head felt like it was going to split open and my vision was spotty, so I was really scared I might've ruptured something somehow. I saw my neurologist Monday, and they ran some tests."

She was rambling. What was she getting at? Some awful news? Would she be so calm if she were telling him she was dying?

"What's wrong?"

She smiled now. "Nothing. Nothing's wrong at all."

He frowned. "Cress?"

"Captain." He couldn't breathe. It was the way she said it, like she had back when he told her how he felt and she was telling him that she felt the same. Back when she knew him. Cress stepped forward, wrapped her arms around his waist, pressed her cheek against his chest and her fingers against his back. "I'm so sorry that I forgot you."

Author's Note: Reviews are really nice to receive. My favorite kind of emails. You should leave one :)