Encounter

Cristina longed for better times. Ever since the death of Livvy, the warmth and reassurance had sapped from the Institute. A strange, raw emptiness seemed to fill the place, a hollowness gaped in all of them. It showed too. She had only had to catch a glimpse in the mirror the other day to see the darkening circles under her eyes, the slight sharpness of usually rounded cheeks. She had spent days comforting and worrying about Emma, who was comforting and worrying about Julian, who was doing his best to comfort and worrying to death about the Blackthorn kids. Especially Ty, Ty made everyone worry. Something in him had seemed to snap, like a light had died in him. Whenever he entered the room, breaths were held, eyes focused. But Ty carried himself recklessly, with a new type of abandon and loss in him. A quiet, cold anger and pain that chilled everyone to the bone. A constant reminder that things could never be the way they were. That something was always going to be missing.

Cristina eyes felt heavy under the luminous moonlight. But she fought it, she wanted to see them. The Wild Hunt. She wondered if he would be among them, somehow by chance. A radical hope.

Kieran.

She knew he was as safe as he could be, at the Scholomance. Diego had done his best to update her, under his cautious guise. But she couldn't help it. She missed his mocking smile, his fierce presence. As if life was a big game, a dark joke that only he could laugh at. She almost wished she could go back in time, before the tragedy. When he loved Mark obliviously, and they all lived in that guise. It was a deceit, she knew. But she could now understand why people would rather live in a lie than suffer the truth. Something had unraveled between him and her, between them. She couldn't help but think back to it, especially in these harsh times, especially since the dream...

"There." Mark whispered.

In the distance, a white dot, brighter than any of the other stars, started to glow and expand. The dot grew to a morphing circle, expanding and building like a tumbling snow ball, it dropped down through the thick, dusk clouds and seemingly disappeared. Suddenly, they bursted from behind the clouds, the vicious horn tearing across the night sky. Cristina felt excitement and fear flash up her spine, goosebumps protruding across her bare skin as she watched them, glorious and ethereal in their glinting armour, riding their graceful steeds.

She looked over to Mark sensing his immediate reaction.

His fists clenched tightly, his jaw set. He looked suddenly defined and sharp, as the moonlight outlined him, turning him into a wild silhouette. She could see it, the savagery build in his eyes. The gold shone like lava, the blue illuminated like the stars themselves. He seemed more primal with his pointed ears and sharp cheekbones. He could very well jump from this very building and land gracefully onto his steed, galloping away into the cold night.

"Cristina," he groaned. He turned to her slowly, like a predator. Desperation in his eyes.

Hearing her name so roughly made her breath hitch.

"I... I need to go, I need to go with them." His fist clenched so hard, blood dropped from his palm.

"Mark, please calm down." The look in his eyes, the sudden hunger, the need, caught her like a trap.

"You don't understand," he whispered, grabbing her shoulders, turning her to him fully.

"If I go, I could find her. I could kill Annabelle. I could stop his pain. Julian's pain," he hissed the words like a swear.

"They need you here. Mark, you can't leave now." She tried to persuade calmly. How could just leave his family like this?

He had turned from her, he was watching them, the Wild Hunt as they galloped away. She caught the smell of blood and metal, the scream and howls that tore from their throats.

Mark's hand dropped from her, almost entranced, his gaze determined. He walked rapidly to the roof edge, eyes set. He wanted to end this himself, he wanted to escape.

Cristina's chased after him in alarm, grabbing his arm as he stood idle at the roof's edge.

She could feel the thick muscle under his t shirt, the warmth of skin against the chill of night air. Shock ran through her arm, all through her body.

Mark must have felt it too. He gasped silently, jolting ever so slightly at her contact.

He breathed heavily, face turned towards the sky, woken suddenly.

He watched his former warriors charging further and further away. He closed his eyes, lingering on the rippling horn vibrating through his bones. He imagined the howling winds, drowning him in the chill of war. He could feel freedom, the beauty of the stars, the terror of death, the elation of the Hunt, losing himself completely in abandon. But most agonisingly, he wanted Kieran. He imagined his dark curls, like silk, slipping through his fingers. He wanted to feel the web of scars on his back, his encasing embrace...

He turned to Cristina. Her slender fingers wrapped around his arm, her eyes glistening with worry. Worry. They all worried. It seemed to overtake the sorrow. The anxiety that sank their souls like lead anchors.

But her worry flared his guilt. This girl, this beautiful girl, worried for him. He didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve her, she didn't deserve all the pain he caused her, neither did his family.

"You should have let me go," he spoke emotionless.

"Your family needs you here, Mark. We need you. We have to stay together, now more than ever," she breathed desperately.

"Together? Together? Cristina, MY FAMILY IS FALLING APART! MY BABY SISTER IS DEAD, HER TWIN WALKS AROUND AIMLESS AND LOST! JULIAN BARELY SLEEPS AND HE'S SKELETAL! AND THE ONE GIRL WHO COULD GIVE HIM ANY SHRED OF JOY IS FORBIDDEN FROM LOVING HIM." His cheeks warmed to scarlet and his heart raced and pounded like the steeds of the hunt.

"Radical fanatics might take our institute away from us and I spend night and day worrying to death about Kieran forgiving me, about you...about you." He stopped abruptly. He had let it all out, his breath had nearly left him.

"I hate seeing you with that look in your eyes. I catch you nearly every time, I fear that look Cristina. Kieran gave it to me when I was attacked in the Hunt, the children have it to me when I first came to them, now you give it to me, when I'm in pain, wishing I was some where else."

He moved closer to her, almost staggering, lifting a steady hand to her face.

Cristina breathed slowly. She was used to it, the outbursts, the mood swings, Ty had his few recently. But Mark's was different. She could feel his hopelessness, his loss. As if her heart had to take on all his pain too.

She shivered at the gentle touch. So light and soft it felt almost painful.

She looked up at him. She took in the gentle glowing his gold eye, the lazy sparkle in his blue eye. His features softened, the savagery shrouded in raw loss.

He closed his eyes, leaned into her and pressed his lips against hers. She couldn't help but shut hers too, melting into their kiss.

It was slow and gradual, she could feel all the detail. The brush of his eyelash, the stroke of his fingers on her cheek as his other hand slid tenderly to her waist. She opened up willingly, and he was gentle but she could feel the desperation in his taunt muscles, the way he pulled her closer. She could feel the warmth of his skin under his clothes, feel heat swell in her chest. It took her back. This feeling, to one more intense. The dream.

The memories flashed in the swirling darkness. Mark dragging kisses down her body, her collarbone, her rib cage, her stomach, lower, lower. The slow, agonising trickle of crystal blue water, the silver crescent moon. Kieran. Kieran whispering against her lips, laughing lightly, his curls turning a deep violet as his mouth brushed her ear. Kissing his neck as his fingers began to slide down beyond the thin material of her...

She broke away, breathless. An intimate heat spread bellow her stomach, the feeling of a slight slickness between her legs turned her cheeks bright red in embarrassment. She couldn't look at Mark, not without absolutely losing it.

"Cristina...I'm..."

"Kieran." She replied. That one word, the one person that broke the whole situation.

Mark looked away in guilt, his lips reddened from their kiss.

He ran a hand through his pale blond hair, thoughtfully regarding the ground.

A minute passed, then two. The heat of the moment was taken by the passing car horns and whistling night air.

The black night wasn't as dark, the sky was a fraction lighter. Cristina longed with her heart to turn back time, to keep it night. Life started at sunrise, she wanted this moment, this peace.

"Take me to him." Mark said finally. He turned back to her, determination smacked on his face.

"Mark, we need to be here. We can't just leave, Kieran is safe..."

she started."

"No Cristina. He's not, not unless I know he is. I need him to forgive me, I need to make this right."

She was silent, the moon regarding them.

" I can't sleep Cristina, I can't rest knowing how we separated. If I can reach Kieran, I can fix this problem, I can fix something."

His gaze locked on her, like she held the knife to give him sweet death. He would go anyway, with or without her. She knew that. She wanted to see him too, a certain emptiness had settled in her when he left, a slight ache she couldn't explain. She put it down to Livvy's death but even then...

"Please," he pleaded, standing close to her. She could reach out and touch him again. She wouldn't, not tonight.

"Okay."