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Chapter Text

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

“Haah…” exhausted hazel eyes stare up at the dark ceiling coated in a moonless night. A night like this came around once, maybe thrice a month… but this one was special. This one… was a blood-soaked night that was reminiscent of her childhood. Constant attempts upon her life… just for being a member of the Jia family.

“Haah…” exhausted hazel eyes shut with a blink, no light coming through to her eyelids. Not a single flicker of flame nor the cyan glow of that evil eye permeated her own. An abyss, a void… one that she was familiar with since she was a little girl. Though it wasn’t her own… she could feel it within her big brother’s heart… as well as that brown haired Bodyguard’s own.

“Haah…” exhausted hazel eyes look upon the void, witnessing fond memories as her life flutters out of her chest. Memories of a day long gone yet entirely cherished and would be forever. Memories… that she always looked upon whenever she was feeling down or wondering what she should do. They were like… her own personal compass that set her on this bright path of an uncertain future which she walked… but she knew one thing… and that was to become the Hierarch of Hongyuan instead of her big brother.

“Haah…” exhausted hazel eyes cry, finding the warm, fond memories to be a burden more than a joy. They were always like that however. A burden. Like a harpoon… shoved, wedged right into the disgusting blubber of a whale… the pain of their happy past was a burden in her stabbed heart. More so than the pain she felt throughout her freezing body… for it was far too much for her to withstand on a constant basis. Just how did… that bastard live with himself…? How could he just stomp all over those memories they all shared…? With Jia Huan… and Heathcliff…?

Just how heartless had her big brother become…?

“Ah~” There is a slam upon the ground. “What’s the matter sis? What are you crying for?” She doesn’t care in the slightest to ever take her eyes away from their happy past, so she knows naught of his crouching at her side.

“You…” exhausted, the redhead speaks, her voice a tiny whisper among the roaring flame.

“Ah…” the cyan eye shuts, allowing the faint violet eye to look at her in solitude, “then perhaps I should’ve been a little wea—”

“For you…” she amends, causing her big brother to frown listlessly. “For the big brother I used to love…” a scornful laugh fills the air. “But I suppose this you stabbed that boy in the back… just as you stabbed me… Am I wrong?”

“Yes.” Big brother Baoyu spoke solemnly, shutting both of his eyes before rising. “I plunged my blade through his heart, sparing not a tear as his mourned life fluttered in the wind with the grace of a butterfly’s wings.” He lifts his staff, ignoring the clashing sounds of metal in the distance. “Just as I shall mourn your loss, Ishmael~ Is there anything more you wish to say?” The thick wood hovers just above her heart, ready to strike once and crush it into paste. After all, he would never bring himself to slay his favorite sibling permanently.

“Not to you…” Ishmael speaks, her brows pinching together as she exhales in lament… Heathcliff… when was the last time I saw you? Was it when we were children… the staff rises, poised to kill her with ease, or when big brother suddenly departed without a word? … if only you could tell me yourself…

If only…

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“Oi!” A rough, calloused hand holds her wrist in place, suspending her in mid air. “The heck are ya doin’ lass?” Only 9 and already the boy holding her had an attitude as rough as his face was. “You’re gonna get yourself hurt if ya fall off!” That split eyebrow, though belonging to quite a mean boy, only looked upon his friends with worry and concern.

“But my kite…” Ishmael’s lips wobble, staring off at the no longer there dark red paper that the four had drawn upon. Big bro Baoyu’s design was of a pink heart, and big bro Huan’s was of a cool pink dragon encircling the heart. Heathcliff’s… was a bit shoddy, but Ishmael didn’t mind that it was only his scribbled initials. For it gave her a reason to draw a bow between their initials as well. She wasn’t as creative as either of her big bros, but that didn’t matter since she just wanted to be with all three of them.

“Well ya can’t go n’ grab it when it’s already in the air and outta your hands now, can ya?!” The look in her eyes said ‘no,’ which was why the long haired brunet pulled her back away from the ledge. “Good, now quit lookin’ so gutted,” but how could she look happy? Her own kite that they took their time to design and draw on was gone, completely taken by the wind. And on top of that, she would be the only one of the four that wasn’t allowed to fly a kite.

“Hey, Ishma—” Jia Baoyu’s hand was extended, ready to offer his kite handle to her.

But he was already overshadowed by the young Bodyguard, “‘Ere, lass, let’s fly mine together.” If that’d stop her from crying, then so be it. Heck, she could fly his kite alone if that’s what she wanted.

“Really, Heathcliff…?” Ishmael asks, her teary hazel eyes looking up at the taller brunet with stunned surprise.

“Hmm, but ya better not take too long,” he snickers before looking up at the purple swallowtail kite, “‘cuz who knows if you’ll get t’ fly it.” Those words send her into action, grabbing one end of Heathcliff’s spool.

“Thank you, big brother Heathcliff!” Though they weren’t related by blood, Ishmael still thought of the Bodyguard as her brother. They were quite close after all.

“Aye, no problem, lass.” With his barren right hand, the brunet pats the top of her head, rubbing it between the two buns of a distant sunset. She was certainly happy, thankful that her big brother was kind enough to spread his own enjoyment to her. But… she thought about it for a moment, frowning as a result of her mind’s process. “Oh come on, what are ya louring about now?”

“My kite…” Ishmael mutters, her eyebrows knitting like Heathcliff’s own, “Ishmael won’t have one next time…” The brunet looks at her in silence, his mind moving at a snail’s pace. But it hastened, moving faster with the rage boiling within his thoughts…

But big bro Baoyu never liked his anger, “Then you can just have mi—”

“No!” The redheaded child of the Jia family shouted, “I don’t want your ugly kite, big brother Heathcliff!” A twitch in his brow was born as he tried his best to smile, his sharp teeth intimidating to the little girl.

“Ugly?” There was nothing ugly about the butterfly, in fact, her stupid kite was the only ugly thing here, so it was pretty damn good that it was taken with the wind. He wanted to be mean, wanted to be a little brat himself… but Ishmael’s blushing face was just too cute for him to be mean right to it. So he turns his head away from her, “little… ankle biting brat…” the brunet mutters, the wind taking his angry words away to drown them within the pond. Jia Baoyu finds it funny, otherwise the boy wouldn’t have been laughing, “fine! Ya want a new kite, we’ll bloody make one after we’re done with this!” And he was gonna make sure that damned string was strong enough so it wouldn’t break this time.

“REALLY?!” The little girl shouts, her sniveling eyes being replaced with gigantic suns that shines brilliantly in spite of this darker night lit up by the District around them. “Thank you, big brother Heathcliff!!!” Letting go of the spool, which was somehow not the way she lost the first, Ishmael wraps her arms around the brunet and his loose fitting cloth. For someone 5 years younger than him, her hug was surprisingly strong…

“Yeah yeah,” quickly, the brunet wound the string around his fist in anticipation of this rising gust, “lass, let go already!” Heathcliff shouts, his blushing face a spectacle for Jia Baoyu’s jade eye to witness alongside the duo’s laughter. “Sh-shut up you two!” They must’ve been thinking he was some sort of idiot for blushing at the hug, which was why he tried to separate himself from the strong girl. “Get the heck offa me, Ishmael!”

“No, big bro Heathcliff! I want to hug you!” Their howls of laughter only increased, finding the duo’s antics to be quite cute. This only caused Heathcliff’s blush to envelop more than just his nose or cheeks. Red tipped ears, and a few blushing scars that were on his chin and forehead.

“Haha, my sister really seems to like you, Heathcliff~” Jia Baoyu spoke, shutting his left eye as he winked at them, “maybe you could one day become my brother-in-la—” The spool was flung, flying right at Jia Baoyu’s face to smack him across his nose.

“I-I sa-said to shut up, big bro Baoyu!” Heathcliff’s blush is rampant now, his mind melted by the teasing remarks of the Precious Jade of Daguanyuan, leading to quite the rash decision which harmed the cyan-eyed boy’s face. “O-oh, crap,” Ishmael had never heard such language, but she knew the weight behind it meant that it wasn’t good. That and the sudden, frigid silence of Jia Huan told her that what Heathcliff had done wasn’t a good thing. “Are you alri—”

“Don’t worry,” Jia Baoyu speaks, rubbing his nose a little as he smiles at the two, “I’m completely fine, you three, don’t worry~” casting his gaze away, the aloof boy looked at the tangled kites, “how lucky~ Can you help me reel your kite in?” Just as always, the boy cast aside all worries about himself, something that Heathcliff never particularly enjoyed.

“Y-yeah…” feeling terrible, the brunet shuffles over to Jia Baoyu with Ishmael attached to his front. Grabbing the string, Heathcliff helped wrangle in both tangled kites as Ishmael reached into her pocket.

“Here, big brother!” With a band-aid in hand, the redhead of the Jia family tried smiling through this tense air, hoping to encourage the two who weren’t smiling to do the same.

“Oh?~ How thoughtful, thank you, Ishmael,” Jia Baoyu tries to take the bandaid from her so that he can do it himself, but her tiny arm is wrenched away.

“No! Let Ishmael do it herself!” With an airy laugh that lies amongst the clouds, Jia Baoyu smiles at her, a solemn tinge in his eyes since he knows of Heathcliff’s fate.

“Alright then,” the Precious Jade leans down, bending over for the redhead, “please, go ahead, Ishmael~” Opening the sticky bandaid, the little girl places it along the reddened bridge of his nose, chanting a tiny spell that would hasten her brother’s healing. “Wow~ Feels better already, thank you~”

“You’re welcome, big brother!” Ishmael’s beaming smile does a little bit to infest the darkened world with her brightness, allowing the three boys to momentarily forget the punishment that would befall Heathcliff as a result of what he had done.

Thank the Xianren she had no idea…

Thank the Xianren for her brilliant innocence…

Otherwise Heathcliff would’ve been left in shambles when the time for punishment came, earning him a beheading and a scar which went right below his right eye.

… you were here…

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“Ah!” There was a spark of light within this void Heathcliff was trapped in. One that soon came running up to him and grabbing at his dismal sleeve. “Big brother, Heathcliff!” Two exhausted heather eyes settled upon her orange hair before fluttering further down to her saddened hazel eyes. “Where have you been?!”

Sad memories flash in his pained eyes, but the brunet never vocalizes them, “Around…” Is all he says, subduing the curiosity in her mind. “What’s up, lass…? Whaddya ya need me for…?” Being around someone, anyone, would help erase this ache in his heart… and Jia Baoyu certainly wouldn’t help…

Ishmael isn’t oblivious. She may be young, but she could easily tell the look in Heathcliff’s eyes was the same as her big brother’s. Heartbreak. Something inside of him was either broken, or right at the precipice of breaking… so she would do everything in her power to help fix it in any way she possibly could. “I wanted to play house with you!”

“‘S that all…?” Ishmael nods, her hands moving to grab his own as she slowly led him to their destination, which was her room. “Why me…?” He knew why, but he wouldn’t dare speak of the reason. For she didn’t deserve to be as miserable as either him or Jia Baoyu…

“Because you’re fun to play with, big brother!” Hah… He smiles, finding her lie to be a slight bit heartwarming. She always smiled more with Jia Baoyu or Jia Huan… never him… but he had a feeling that would forever change with the slaughtering of the Kong family… For it mentally destroyed the Jia Baoyu he knew only days ago…

“Ah… so I am…” Heathcliff looks down at his feet as he walks, finding the steps to not be his own. They never were. For he was but a tool for those above him, used by those who thought him to be useful. And so be it… if he was useful, then he had a purpose…

… and right now, his purpose was to wear a bonnet. “Open wide~” The insane redheaded child of the Jia said, holding up a spoon of dirt in front of the boy’s face. She fully intended on him eating it, and even if she wasn’t, this was much too far for a game that he’d indulge in.

“Lass. Take that daaaang spoon away from me.” Phew~ He saved that quite well considering what it was that he wanted to say initially.

“Baby’s can’t speak, big brother,” the girl says, frowning a little at the brunet before he takes the bonnet off and throws it on the ground beside him.

As she gasps, Heathcliff scowls while leaning against his chin, “I’m not gonna eat a spoonful of that muck…” He can see the wobble in her lip, something that he could never resist, “but I’ll do anything else ya want…” Before she can recover from her near-tear experience, Heathcliff speaks over her, “as long as it’s reasonable!”

“Oh! Then give me a moment!” Ishmael happily cheers, dropping the spoon which revealed a wriggling worm within it after the dirt crumpled away. Heathcliff’s blood ran cold, wondering whether or not she would’ve actually fed him that spoonful. After messing around in her dresser for a bit, the redhead excitedly pulls out a red box. “Found it!” Running over, the redhead trips falling forward. She was bound to fall onto her face… but Heathcliff was there to catch her. Having rushed forward in mere moments

“You alright, lass?” He asks, not knowing just how much blush was on her buried face.

“Ye-yeah…” she whispers, Heathcliff’s surprisingly strong hands righting her onto her feet. Hazel eyes cannot bear to look at him, but she forced them anyway since this box held something important to her. Something that she was putting off since there was never a right moment to use it. “Big brother, do you remember when you made me a kite last year?”

“Ya mean that crappy thing that never flew right? Yeah,” Ishmael never thought was the case, she loved that kite they made and tied it with a red cord. “What about it?”

“I wanted to give you something for it!” For some reason, the redhead split away from Heathcliff, taking a few steps backwards before kneeling. He wondered what she could possibly be doing, but with how she held out the box and opened it, the brunet quickly figured it out. “Will you be mine?”

“Lass…” the brunet pinches his nose, shutting his eyes to her little stunt. “Where the heck did you even get a ring?”

“From a friend,” she happily said, ignoring how Heathcliff frowned and scowled a little.

“Is this still a game to you?” She pursed her lips, looking a bit worried as she turned her eyes away from Heathcliff. “Haaah… lass, why the heck do you even know what proposing is?”

“I watched something like this with mama…” Heathcliff sighs once more, trying to find the right string of words to say… For a few seconds he was silent… and in those same seconds, Ishmael’s lips curled down into a frown as her arms slowly lowered. “I-is… there something else you want to do, big bro—”

“I’m playing games with you, lass,” Heathcliff spoke first, losing his train of thought as he believed he needed to speak up. “Not the other way around.” He was always a tool, and would be nothing more than one. So to be without emotion, to be without a hea—

“B-but… I-I don’t know of anything else that can make you happy…” Ishmael mutters, her voice quiet enough to sound like a scream in this silent room. “You and big brother Baoyu have… been sad to watch… a-and big brother Baoyu is staying away fr-from me…” Tears threaten to fall from her eyes as Heathcliff’s blood runs cold, “a-a-and I-I don’t want t—”

The brunet moves forward, pulling the five year old girl into his shoulder as he hugged her, “Wow~” A blade entered Heathcliff’s heart as his smile wobbled behind her back, “you’re doing this all for me? How kind of you, Ishmael~” He wasn’t too sure it was working, but he could tell that his voice was wobbling, breaking apart right at the seams as he tried his hardest to keep up this facade of big bro Baoyu. So if Ishmael believed anything out of his mouth, then that would be good for him. “Thank you so very much… tha-thank you…” that stutter in his voice is the broken floodgate, allowing a flood of tears to stream down his face as he hugs Ishmael tighter.

Children shouldn’t face loss… yet Heathcliff had done so with Jia Huan… And big brother Baoyu faced something far worse with how he was acting. So while he hurt inside and mourned the loss of Jia Huan… he mourned just as much for Jia Baoyu’s heart as well…

“I’m… sorry, lass,” Heathcliff sniffles, wiping his eyes with his sleeves after having pulled away from the hug.

“Only be sorry if you still feel sad,” the redhead said, making a few more tears trickle from his eyes.

“Okay…” taking a deep breath, the shaky child looks at Ishmael then toward the fallen box. “Can… I ask why you thought ‘proposing’ to me was a good idea…?”

“It… made the woman smile,” the girl says, blushing a slight bit as she looks at the box. “Pl-plus I thought you deserved something nice…” Heathcliff was one of her friends, and her friends deserved nice gifts! E-especially if they were sad…

“Well… you didn’t have to propose, lass,” Heathcliff scratches the back of his head, a little blush on his cheeks. “Besides, when you’re 20, I’ll be 25… I’d be too old for ya…” Plus, he was a Bodyguard and she was practically royalty.

“So…?” The child asked, her lips curling into a wide smile soon after, “I love you, Heathcliff!” The brunet’s face went red for a moment, but it suddenly stopped rising in temperature when he realized who he was talking to.

“By ‘love,’ you mean ‘really like as if I’m your family,’ yeah, lass?” Ishmael nodded, her little fluffy hair buns and two small braids bouncing. It made sense that was what she meant, and thank the Xianren that was the case. “Heh, then I love ya too,” reaching out, Heathcliff fluffs her hair with a toothy grin. Who wouldn’t love the lass with how nice and thoughtful she was? Taking after her big brother paid off quite well after all…

Ishmael giggled, smiling because of Heathcliff’s words. They would be cherished forever, for she knew what love meant… But perhaps she shouldn’t have told him it under a different meaning…

… Heathcliff…

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“Oi, I told ya I don’t want help,” Heathcliff mutters, blood trickling down into his right eye.

“And I told you I don’t give a crap, Heathcliff,” Ishmael says, dabbing a cotton ball on his bleeding wound. “Big brother did this to you…?” The frown on his face only deepens, telling her all she needed to know. “What, did you just let it happen?”

All across his body are bleeding cuts and bruises, each one inscribed into his flesh when he had tried to get in Jia Baoyu’s way. That bastard wouldn’t be leaving until Heathcliff got an explanation for what happened to him… But it seemed to be that it would be far more difficult to do than inflict all the injuries that he did with his guandao.

“I’m not some dog who’d just roll over, lass,” Heathcliff responds, feeling blood trickle from his chin. “Of course I didn’t just let this happen…” piercing eyes strike his soul, causing him to avert his gaze. They delved deeper and deeper, driving this wedge into his heart until she got the truth out of him, “… I just didn’t fight back…”

“Did you defend yourself at all, Heathcliff?” Ishmael asks, three more seconds would have to pass, but once they did she’d be right there at the point where smacking him upside the head would be a good idea.

“Of course I did, I’m not a moron,” the redhead scoffs, making his cut brow rise from its perch, “what? If you think otherwise, then just say it instead o’ being a pri—” Her hand lowers, gripping his loose collar tight enough to make it feel like he was being choked.

“You’re an idiot, Heathcliff.” Her hazel eyes glowed, yellow filling them as she expressed her hatred for the brunet. “You could’ve died.” Though a Bodyguard he may have been, Heathcliff never felt like one when he was around this eccentric family of theirs.

Which was why he grabbed her wrist in return and tore it away from him before getting in her face, “So fucking what?” Death was just another part of his job, another common aspect of his life. He was a tool and nothing more.

“So fucking what?” Ishmael parrots, her eyes softening as she stared with misery at the brunet, “I don’t want you to die, Heathcliff. Don’t you remember what happened t—”

“Don’t.” Heathcliff interrupts, his narrowed eyes more sharp than daggers. “Don’t you dare bring her up…” she did nothing … but she was reduced to a hollow shell… nothing but a void of a person.

“But that’s exactly my point, Heathcliff,” her hand rises, brushing more blood away from his forehead instead of resting upon his cheek as she wanted. “I don’t want you to become someone that isn’t you…” His eyebrow rises, mind wandering a slight to the past, “you mean a lot to me…” Ah… right. He was practically family to her… not that it meant much for someone like him, but still, it meant a bit more to him than if it were to come from anyone else. The only other person that he would feel anything from would be if Jia Baoyu said something along those lines. Not even Miss Baochai could make him feel something if she ever said that he was like family to her.

“Why?” Heathcliff asks, heading on a wolf hunt over her vague caring, “because I’m the only bloke who’s still around from when you were a wee lass?” Her eyes went wide, the pupils narrowing into small bullet holes. “Hah, makes sense, of course I’d only be use—” As if to add insult to injury, Ishmael’s hand slaps him across the face.

“How dare you even say that!” The redhead angrily shouts, backing away from the Bodyguard. “The reason I care about you isn’t because you’re my childhood friend, Heathcliff!” Ishmael gathers her breath, channeling her courage through it.

“Then what?!” Heathcliff roars back, his breath challenging the might of a Hieshou Chen, “why do you ‘care’ for me, Ishmael?! Why the hell would you ever care about a tool that isn’t yours!?” Her ears went deaf, body going numb with anger… but mostly sorrow. Nothing is said. Nothing can be said by someone who felt so nonexistent. Was this truly how Heathcliff had felt since they were children…? “Exactly. Figured ya were just the same as the rest o’ those posh pricks,” he stands, ignoring the wobble in his legs as he finds it stressful to stand. “Only caring about things that you find useful,” he stomps right past her, trailing blood with every step of his. “But that’s alright with me, lass, your inability to speak doesn’t cut me like Baoyu’s words did.” He scoffs, burying his aching heart under another layer of upheaved dirt. “You can’t hurt what’s already killed, eh?” His snicker hides the pain, but he’s been hurting, coming apart since the day Jia Huan passed away.

She hadn’t noticed until now… did she…? That was the day Heathcliff stopped seeing himself as their equal. As a person. He was just a tool… nothing but something for another to use… “Heathcliff…” Ishmael mutters, a miserable frown on her lips, “I care about you.” He stops in his steps, silence fluttering from his open mouth right after. “I care about the you that tries his best to make others happy. I care about the you that isn’t afraid to speak up to those who are stronger to you when someone you love is at stake. I care about the you who is kindhearted enough to feel terrible for those you cherish when they cannot help themselves. I care about you Heathcliff…” her voice is barely held together. No amount of tape or boluses could prevent it from breaking into tears, “I don’t care about what you’re ‘useful’ for… I only want you to be happy…”

Heathcliff stares at the ground for a little bit, his mouth reopening after a few seconds of gathering. “… just as Baoyu would say, ‘ a funeral can be an ending or a beginning.’” Moving once again, Heathcliff's legs carried him away from the redhead. “‘But what was lost cannot return.’ Mourn for me all you want, lass…” A tear sparkled as it built in his eye, “but that Heathcliff died with Jia Huan on that day…”

Leaving in his wake his sorrow for a time long lost, Heathcliff departed from Ishmael…

Making one of the worst decisions in his life…

“… would things have been different had I said I loved you…

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… would you have accepted my feelings…?

Or would you have left me to drown in this cold sea without you like you already have…?

…

It’s…

A tear rolls down her cheek as the staff shifts, moving downwards.

… so cold without you, Heathcliff.

Please…

… come back to me…

I’m begging for you to not leave me alone any longer…

… I only want to see you again.

Because…

The staff slams downwards, taking Ishmael’s heart with it…

… I miss the boy I fell in love with…

Or so would’ve been the case had a blade not clashed with him. “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Ah, Heathcliff~ What a nice way to see you again~” Jia Baoyu smiles, keeping his left eye shut, “how are y—”

“Pissed.” The brunet responds without letting the jade-eyed man finish, ignoring how Ishmael’s eyes widened and looked up at him all the while. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Oh, just paying my dear little sister a visit,” the glow in Heathcliff’s eyes deepened, the violet darkening as if a midnight sky enveloped them. “What brings you here? Come to play with your childhood friends?” Something had snapped, bones perhaps, before Heathcliff bared his teeth and sent the staff away.

“Quit trying to act friendly.” Pointing the spear forward, the brunet found no resistance put up by Jia Baoyu, “you let everything between us rot for years before finally killing it the day you left.” There’s a twitch in the black-haired man’s eye, but he keeps it shut.

“Have I? Then let this fluttering lame—”

“I don’t want to hear that sappy tongue of yours. Leave.” The spear flushes out, stabbing right into the staff’s body.

“Now now, Heathcliff,” the man giggles, blood flushing into his cheeks, “I wish to have nothing but a friendly chat with the both of you with your arrival now.” The grip on the spear tightens, he had already stepped into Nuanxiangwu ready to throw his life away for Ishmael, so why would he let it go without a fight?

“Miss Faust?” In a blur, the woman that Heathcliff had won a fight against appeared at his side, kneeling down.

“Yes, my liege?” She asks, having taken seemingly no damage from the brunet and his spear.

“Take my armament and depart to the place I mentioned to you before,” there is a startled look within her yellow eyes, one that is wholly disapproving of his idea. “If I am to fall this night, then so be it, this new age we have built up towards will disintegrate,” his jade eye flutters open looking with pity upon the two as a troubled look crosses his lips. “But that is alright… for I wish to surrender my fate into the hands of those who guided me with nothing but ardor.” With a nod, the Heishou of the Mao branch accepted what Jia Baoyu passed her way before seemingly disappearing into the air.

“You…” Heathcliff bites his lip, keeping his shaking spear pointed at the man, “… why are you still stupid…?”

“Because I’ve always trusted you with my life, Heathcliff,” Jia Baoyu’s smile, though muddied with years of suffering, remains as it has always been.

Kind.

“…” Heathcliff winces, trying his hardest to keep this idea up that he must kill this fool before him… but it’s impossible. Just as impossible as it was to hurt him back then… “you’re a bastard, Jia Baoyu…” The snarl isn’t that of a growling mutt but a puppy who has found his way back home.

“I know I am.” The spear flips, the pommel of it facing the man before it strikes his chest. It was the first time Heathcliff had hit him since that night they flew kites. “I suppose that weak strike is meant for the pain I caused you?” Heathcliff nodded before pulling the spear upwards and taking a deep breath.

With its release, the brunet shouted as he struck the bastard’s shoulder with all his might, “HOW FUCKING DARE YA HURT YOUR SISTER LIKE THAT!?” There wasn’t a wince, nor was there any outward pain shown by Jia Baoyu. “HUH?! WHAT THE HELL DID SHE DO TO DESERVE THAT?!” He was fuming, finding this scene entirely unreasonable for returning after six years of total radio silence.

“Nothing,” Jia Baoyu answers, earning another strike in his shoulder for that, “my sister is too kind to deserve agony, and for that I cannot atone.” A lamenting gaze falls upon his sister, sorrow filling his heart for the pain he had to create in order to bring this conversation about. “Ishmael, Heathcliff, I do not wish for you to be swept away in this coming wave the new dawn of Hongyuan shall bring. I only want those who I hold dear to be safe,” reaching into his robes, the jade-eyed man produced a tiny bolus, “which is why I offer you both this choice.” He stepped forward, kneeling beside Ishmael’s head, “allow my forces to whisk you off to somewhere safer. Or fight at my side so I may lead Hongyuan into a brighter future free from suffering.”

They… would be taken away, removed far from Hongyuan at just the flick of his wrist… or they would fight for him… “Jia Baoyu…” they said at the same time, grinning at one another as they gave him their answers.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵⛈️୨୧ · ·💜· · ୨୧⛪️‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

“Haaah… why do I have to be stuck with you?” Ishmael asks, walking down the corridor with the taller brunet at her side.

“Oh, maybe because we got separated from our groups, lass?” Heathcliff responds with a sarcastic question; there’s a twitch in her brow that causes the orange hair to shift like a wave. “Or did all o’ that information fall outta that barmy head of yours?” No, of course it didn’t…

But it sure felt that way with how light her head felt. Being able to be right beside Heathcliff despite his devotion to big sis Baochai made her heart go haywire. “I still can’t believe you were stupid enough to get lost, really makes me wonder if you’re even a good Bodyguard in the first place.”

“Need I remind you who saved your arse from your brother last night?” Heathcliff asks, not noticing how she took a step closer to him. “Right, I forgot, you saved your own…” his words sticks in his throat, finding her head on his shoulder to be quite… relieving. It was as if all their past turmoil had faded in one night… all of their stacked silence knocked right over. And by such a simple gesture…

“Thank you…” Ishmael mutters, lips pressed tight in a solemn light. There was never really a quiet moment around them… so this was one of her favorites. To be beside the man she always felt safe around, the one she always found peace with… it was overwhelming.

“Oh? Polite eh?” Heathcliff asks, snickering moments later as he tries to think of a joke… but how can he? It’s been years since they’ve even interacted beyond a simple greeting… “Tch… we haven’t been together this way since that day… ‘ave we, lass…?”

“Hmm…” she bitterly hums, the acridity of her lamenting voice turning her tongue sour. It was her fault for letting him go that day… And it was her fault even further for letting their relationship fall through the cracks in their hearts. Something, anything… she should’ve done something to have prevented it that day…

“Well, I for one…” Heathcliff scoffs looking down at the ground with a pained smirk, “I missed this…” A life where death wasn’t commonplace… A life where he was genuinely happy… he hadn’t felt like this in so long… And all it took was to have Ishmael at his side… and hugging Jia Baoyu since he had worried over him every day since he left.

“You really missed me that much, eh?” Ishmael asks, wishing to slice her tongue off right after. That sounded so mean, so snarky, so… conceited. It was of a tone far too undeserving of Heathcliff.

“Yeah.” Heathcliff, though ready to slay any family hierarch candidate that came their way, wrapped his left arm around her shoulder. “… heh… makes me wish I never fucked things up between us…”

“You fucked things up between us?” Ishmael’s indignant voice is filled to the brim with curiosity, “really? You, Heathcliff?” His brows knot together, becoming an unbreakable rope of concern.

“Yeah,” a quiet voice, one filled with gloom toward his foolish past self’s choice to ditch her. “I’m the one that walked out and broke your heart, Ishma—” She stops, speaking over him as she steps out in front of him.

“You haven’t broken anything, Heathcliff,” her hazel eyes stare into his own, peering right into the stormy skies filled with violet lightning. “My heart? Hah, that’s the corniest thing I’ve ever heard,” his expression becomes torn. Should he be angry with her since she stabbed him right in the chest? Or should he laugh at her playful joke since she was smiling? He isn’t given the time, however, for she speaks up with a once buried grin. “You’ve done nothing… it’s been me who hasn’t even tried talking to you like we once did…” There’s something more she wants to say, something she’s letting get dragged into the undertow roaring in her mind.

“Then why don’t we forget what’s happened for the past six years? Hit reset,” eyes widen, hints of gold fluttering into the beauty that she always captured, “start right from where we left off before that day. That alright with you, Ishma?” It wasn’t possible, far from it… but they both could sure act as if six years wasn’t spent avoiding one another.

“Heh, you know I don’t like that nickname… Cliffy,” what a low blow… But that was tit for tat, wasn’t it? Heh, Wings… he really did miss this banter between them. It was just so nostalgic to experience it again. It brought him right back to the start of her rebellious phase, making him grin a little. “What’s with that dumb smile, Heathcliff?”

“Nothin’, lass,” the brunet walked forward, trying to go right past her, “I’m just happy that we’re back to normal…” Ishmael smiled as well… but she didn’t want that. She wanted something more, something that she had thought she ruined forever. Which was why she stepped in front of him, “what? Did I say somethin’ wrong, lass? Did I piss you off?”

“Yes.” Feet carry her forward, her newfound courage allowing her to do what she should have done years ago. Reaching up, the redhead grabs his collar and tries to pull the steadfast brunet down to her height. It wasn’t that she was too weak, no, she obviously made him budge a little… it was just that Heathcliff was resisting her with all of his might for some reason. “What are you doing, idiot…?”

“I could ask the same t’ you little miss moron,” Heathcliff says, gripping her wrist soon after and pulling it to the side. “Tryna kiss me? Really?” It’s rather hard to see her freckles when she blushes, but Heathcliff still enjoys the look either way. What with his sharpened smile, “I haven’t even properly gotten thanked for savin’ your arse last night, n’ ya wanna kiss me? Nuh uh, not happening, lass,” he scoffed, his mind coming up with a terrible joke, “‘sides, I’ve got another person I love. She’s a little brat nam—” She stands on her toes, sealing his lips shut with a short kiss.

“Ishmael.” She smiles after breaking the kiss off, “no?” Her head tilted, causing her braids to inch closer to the ground. “Do you not call her Ishmael?” She hummed for a moment, forcing herself into a false rumination as she pretended to ignore the rising blush on Heathcliff’s embarrassed face. “No, I suppose you wouldn’t… you did just call her moron, after all.” That smug grin irked him, making his brow twitch as he looked at her.

“You know I’m still five years older than you, yeah?” Ishmael nodded, the age gap meaning nothing to her since she was 24 compared to him. “And you know my commoner’s line of work ‘s gonna get me killed, yeah?”

“Commoner?” Ishmael focuses on that word, finding it disgusting among the rest. “Haaaah… you know I could care less what you are. Noble or idiot,” her hands flushes out, fingers dancing lithely on the underside of his jaw, “you’re still the Heathcliff I love~”

“Well…” his rough, calloused hand feels smooth against her cheek, “if you’re fine with me then, Ishmael, then I suppose I should say one thing.” He leans in, keeping her heart in suspense as their faces remain a few inches short of each other.

“And what is that, Heathcliff?” The redhead asks, getting lost in his beautiful eyes.

“I love you.” Crossing that last threshold, Heathcliff kisses her once more, ignoring the world around them for a few moments as they both let their eyes close.

“OOOOH!!! It seems that there is love blooming from this bloodied arena!” Their eyes widened, having forgotten entirely about the cameras that had been watching them. “Watch out competitors, for who knows if your enemy and you will be swept up into that same sto—”

“SHUT THE HELL UP!!!” The duo shout as Heathcliff lifts his spear and Ishmael readies her bladed fan. Then, alongside one another, they hit the space above the camera which they both noticed quickly because of its glint. With the destroyed stone wall crumbling further, the camera fell, becoming obscured in dust and rubble. “Fucking… bitch…” If only they hadn’t forgotten about that, then they certainly would’ve shared a kiss in a more private area.

But alas… a first for them would forever go on to live in infamy… What a memory though, for neither would ever live it down nor forget even the tiniest of details.

“Do ya wanna kill that announcer lass after this, Ishy?" Heathcliff asks, retrieving their weapons.

“I think that’d be a good idea, yeah,” the redhead responds, glaring off into the darkened distance as her entire head remains a pink mess.

“Oi! I know ya blokes can still hear us,” Heathcliff said, kicking the stones as he turned around and walked back to Ishmael. “Go. Fuck. Yourselves. With a bloody cactus preferably.” Handing her the fan, the brunet scoffed, “fuckin’ pricks, coulda just stayed quiet…” His cheeks were rosy, the blood inside them just as rattled as Ishmael’s.

“Ye-yeah,” Ishmael remarks as they walk off, right into the view of another camera. “S-so… you love me, right?”

“You really need more confirmation?” Heathcliff keeps his eyes on the camera, glaring at the viewers before dragging his finger across his throat, “even after I kissed you?” Her hands melted together, playing around with one another as they couldn’t sit still.

“I… really liked hearing you say it, Heathcliff…” Ishmael pouts a little, pushing her lips to the side as she continues to look away from him, her eyes focused right on the tree that had sprouted in the middle of the laboratory.

“Ah, heh, didn’t really take ya for the greedy kind, Ishmael,” she sighed, chastising herself for a moment. Anyone. She could have fallen in love with anyone… but she had fallen in love with the person who was perfect for her. “Really though? Ya want those pricks t’ hear what I have to say to you?”

“Right,” the redhead says, frowning a little as their existence soured her giddy feeling for a moment, “haaaaaah… remind me why I decided to kiss you now?”

“I dunno,” the brunet shrugs, honestly surprised himself considering it was just out of nowhere, “I’m not you.” Ah.

“W-well…” it was shameful, so to have it broadcasted to everyone would’ve been nothing short of suicide. Grabbing his shoulder and pulling him close, the redhead whispers, causing his expression to shift from curiosity to understanding… then utter shock.

“That back then was real?!” Heathcliff shouted, his voice catching the attention of a distant candidate as his face went bright red. “You’re fucking joking, right?”

“No. And shut up,” the redhead blushes with shame well before Heathcliff reaches into his collar, “you’re too…” She could see the necklace before around his neck, but not what was attached to it. So imagine her utter shock…

… when it was the same ring that she proposed to him with. “You… kept that…?”

“Of course I bloody did!” Heathcliff shouts, making sure to have kept it clean and polished throughout the years. “I’m not gonna just throw away something I cherish, luv…” It was his first real gift too… something that he would never let go no matter what.

“Thats not what I meant…” Ishmael felt her heart pound, beating against the bones in her chest in waves. “I didn’t know that you just… kept it on you at all times…” Her head is on fire, the twin buns burning down like palm fronds.

“It’s…” Heathcliff eyes it for a moment, looking at the silver band with eyes gleaming of a past long gone. “Something I hold dear to me, Ishmael, so I’d obviously keep it with me wherever I go.”

“But…” she tried to refute it, tried to do anything to it… Yet nothing could come to her scattered mind, so she blurted out the first thing that came to it. “Why don’t you wear it on your finger?”

“‘Cause it’d get ruined?” Heathcliff responds with a query for her, “do you honestly think some prick won’t try n’ ruin my day further by breakin’ this ring o’ mine?” She couldn’t fault him for it, but that didn’t mean her stupid tongue wouldn’t run further.

“Will you wear it after we finish up here?” She was amazed that her tongue could say something that mean so casually.

“I… wouldn’t be opposed to it…” dazzled red danced upon his cheeks, “but I still don’t want it to get damaged, lass… I want to make sure this ring stays in good condition till the day I’m 80.” He absolutely loved it, being his most treasured possession.

“Oh.” Ishmael had no idea what to say, she only knew that it was one of the sweetest things she had ever heard. “Wow.” She was honestly astounded that Heathcliff had always thought of her gift in that way. A treasure, his own personal treasure… Something he would never ever let go of. And that made her throat well with endless jo—

“You!” Someone shouts, obviously being one of the other candidates that Ishmael didn’t particularly care about to learn the name of. “Jia Ishmael! Hand over all of your coins or prepare for death!”

“Haah,” Heathcliff’s spear flushes out to his side, sweeping out in front of him as he prepares to cut through the enemies facing them, “‘ave ya learned how to fight, Ishma?”

Rolling her eyes, the redhead stands beside him with her flourished fan spread out, “Is that a jab at what happened to me and my men last night, Cliffy?”

“Maybe,” he snidely replies with a smug grin on his face.

“Well, I’ll have you know one thing,” her foot gliding across the ground, “my big brother is far stronger than you’re thinking, Heathcliff.”

“Tch, ya don’t think I know that?” The brunet’s eyes remain glued to their new opponents, reading everything about them so a proper counter could find them. “The bloke didn’t even budge with my strongest strike…”

“Pfft, maybe you’re just weak, Heathcliff~” Ishmael teased, earning a wry laugh out of him.

“We’ll see about that, lass,” he snickers playfully as he marks his first foe mentally, “wanna see who can take out more of the Shi family’s goons?”

“Definitely,” she replies, not knowing those people in red in front of her were part of the Shi family. They just looked like ants to her. Ones that they would crush together.

Lovely~

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵⛈️୨୧ · ·🧡· · ୨୧⛪️‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

“Are you alright, dear Ishmael?” A sodden man with a jade eye asks, a red ribbon around the faint purple one.

“Ask that—” She huffs, lungs burning as they had to carry her and the brunet beside her out of the drowning temple. “—to Heathcliff instead…” He was coughing on his side, hacking water out of his lungs.

“Fine…” he mutters as tears run from his eyes, “I’m fine…” His mind wasn’t though. What. The. FUCK. Was all of that in the temple? What the fuck. What the fuck? What the actual fuck? That’s who ran this fucking place? Those monsters were what schemed to kill the Kong family? Those fuckers got Jia Huan killed? “Big bro…” furious violet eyes locked eyes with the jade eye, a few more spluttering coughs leaving him. “How do you feel?”

“Relieved.” Jia Baoyu said, smiling as he looked upon the submerged temple in the water, watching as it further sank into the depths to seal their evil away for eternity. “At peace.” Contempt ran in his blood for their horrendous bodies, twisted with malice and disgust toward people lesser than them. “Happy.” Yet he couldn’t help but feel pity for them.

Brainwashed, mind controlled, blinded by their predecessor’s greed. They were all ruined and destroyed from the moment Hongyuan was created… and for that he felt sorrow in his heart. “May they rest in a warm, comforting slumber until time shall come to end…” Heathcliff scoffs, completely unable to agree with the man, “would you not wish the same for Jia Huan, brother? For he was just as innocent as those people you would label as monsters.”

“Haah… even now,” Heathcliff soughs as he rises, falling onto the back of his calves, “you still have that kind heart, Baoyu…” But the man shook his head, disagreeing with the brunet.

“My heart has twisted with hatred and rage, it is no—” A closed fan hit the Family Hierarch in the face, slapping him dismally before splashing in the water below.

“Shut it, big brother…” Ishmael says, pushing herself up, “say what you want, but I know you. The only difference between then and now is that you’re stronger, Baoyu,” a smile crosses her lips as his recording eye falls upon it, broadcasting the cracked smile that he had fought for to those ‘monsters’ in the depths below. “Both physically… and mentally,” no longer would he let fate take him aimlessly. He would be the one in charge of his own destiny and no one else… just as he had been for the past few years.

“You as well. It seems you have fluttered from your chrysalis with grand wings that allow your heart to fly freely.” With a sigh, Jia Baoyu offered a silent, final prayer before turning away from the duo, “thank you… for trusting me.” There was an uncertain smile on his face, one that wondered what his family at his back would think of him. Would they be suppo—

“Why do you say that as if you’re some bastard who stomped my head in?”

“Duh? You’re my brother after all.”

“Why would I not trust you, big bro Baoyu?” Their voices make his heart swell, bringing a tear to his covered eye.

“It… warms my heart to know you both have my back…” Jia Baoyu walks forward, his legs disturbing the water. “Now rest up,” a few fish swim up to him, finding his presence serene, just as those around him would. “You both truly deserve it.” Oh thank the Wings. The past three days had been extremely straining. To the point where standing was near impossible for the duo.

Which was why they fell towards one another, leaning upon one another to stop from falling into the water. “Haaaaah…” Ishmael’s chest fell, breath emptying her lungs, “what I wouldn’t give to take a bath right now.”

“I fuckin’ know, eh?” Heathcliff remarked, watching Jia Baoyu walk out towards that weird dude who smoked all the time. “I absolutely fuckin’ reek…”

“Then why don’t we bathe together?” Ishmael suggests, ready to clap back immediately with something that would embarrass the brunet.

“Alright, I don’t mind.” But Heathcliff was prepared, immediately ready to hit her back with an answer that she knew he would never honestly take. “Hell, I’d even love to sleep with ya, Ishma.” And, why shouldn’t he double down? She was prepared to make him feel ashamed, so why shouldn’t he do the same?

“Wha—Heathcliff what the fuck is wrong with you?” Ishmael questions, her eyes remaining right upon her older brother’s back. “You’re gross.”

“What? You thought I meant sex?” He responds, watching as the two in front of them conversed. “You’re the one that’s gross, Ishmael.” With his neck giving out, the brunet rests atop her ear; there must’ve been some sort of agreement, otherwise, Baoyu wouldn’t have been able to so casually rest his staff against the man’s shoulder.

“Regardless, why the hell would I want to bathe and sleep with you, Heathcliff?” Rings of light began to gather upon Baoyu’s staff.

“I’m not saying we need to see each other’s bodies, I’m just saying we could clean up together.” There’s a golden glow for a moment, gathering their attention. “Your hair’s probably gotten more unmanageable, right?”

“Well… yeah, but I have attendants to help with that…” That smoking man said something, “I don’t need your help, Cliffy.”

“What if I want to help with your ha—” Their eyes went wide as they watched the man’s head come right off, reduced to nothing but a red mist.

“HOLY SHIT!!!” They shout, Ishmael’s head rising from its perch against Heathcliff’s shoulder, knocking their heads together before she sends his own flying. The man, forcibly straightened out, leaned too far left from how fast his head was sent up… and so he fell into the water.

“Crap,” Ishmael bit her lip as she grabbed his shoulders and pulled him up, water dragging and plummeting down along with him, “are you alright?”

“Oh, just a little wet, nothing too—” She honestly should’ve expected it, what with that low tone of his and that grin that she could see from behind some fallen and clumped locks of fluffy hair, she should’ve expected it completely. So she, in all of her exhausted wisdom, was surprised when Heathcliff pushed her down into the water and pinned her down with his hands just above her shoulders. “—bad. Hmm shite, sorry, luv, seems I rose too quickly and pushed ya over. Want some help?” His playing tone only makes her brow twitch as her ears float above the water.

“No, I like the water more,” Ishmael reaches up, grabbing his collar tight with both hands, “hey, I got a good idea, why don’t you join me?” With ease, the redhead throws him to the side, dunking the other half of his head in before letting go to let him fall onto his back. The two laid there, side by side, looking up into the secluded trees that were somehow thriving in this hellish temple. “Heathcliff?”

“Yeah, Ishmael?” Heathcliff asked, a large grin on his face to have this back in his life.

“I’m fine with you…” his eyebrow rose… was she not fine with him when they kissed yesterday?

“Elaborate, luv,” Heathcliff says, quickly understanding what she meant. If he could have a little bit of fun with her, then he’d be getting a little bit of fun.

“You’re a dick, Heathcliff,” the blush on her face is astronomical, sparkling more than the sky on a darkened night. “You already know what I mean… don’t make me say it out loud…”

“Hmmm… no? Remember what I am?” Heathcliff snickers, making her blush burn brighter, “how I’m some sort of idiot or someth—” Water splashes him in the face, blinding him for a moment.

When his eyes open again, Heathcliff smirks at the sight he is graciously presented to. Her beautiful, blushing face, “I’m f-fine with you a-and I… ba-bathing together…” Just hearing that made his stomach flutter. She was just so goddamn cute…

“Alright then,” taking his sopping wet hand out of the water, Heathcliff lifts it up and gently grabs the back of her soaked head. “If that’s what you want, luv.” Pulling her down, the brunet gives her a tiny kiss on her cheek before she falls down onto his chest, collapsing out of exhaustion.

“Haaah… I really wish I didn’t suggest that,” she sighs, listening to his heartbeat the moment after. Calming. Strong. Beautiful. Its rhythm was the most beautiful thing to her… second only to how handsome Heathcliff was obviously. His long chestnut brown hair that was always pulled into a high ponytail, allowing his bangs to be free and frame his face perfectly. Sometimes, there was even a loose strand that hovered over his eye, making him look even better in her opinion. Of course, neither his hair or style of clothing had changed much through the years, so she could certainly say that she enjoyed it throughout their time together back then and it still continued whenever she caught sight of him throughout the years.

Hell, this blue robe he wore was basically the same as when he was younger, only tailored to be longer. Not that it was that much longer than back then, he was always pretty tall after all… “Then don’t try and tease me, ‘cause I’m just gonna send it right back in your face, luv.” Heathcliff responded, disturbing her heartbeat induced peace for a few moments before she fell right back in it.

“But it’s fun,” she mutters like a petulant brat, burrowing her head into the chest that she would graciously lie upon for a good half hour before being forced to move by Heathcliff. If the water hadn’t been rising, the two would’ve remained there for a loooong while.

Whatever, it gave them the perfect chance to continue with their day after such a fucked up start to it. And what better way to start it than in the way they said?

Well, that’s what they thought… but what was good in the mind wasn’t good in practice. For the two were in towels, sitting away from one another and facing opposite directions. Silence filled the large bathroom, making every plip and drip of water echo loudly within it.

They were at a complete standstill. The agreed upon loss of six years strangled their throats, making it nearly impossible for either of them to speak. Neither could think, in fact, even breathing felt difficult with how steamy the room was.

But they had to speak to one another, no? They had to break through this oppressive rope, no?

“Ishmael…” Heathcliff suddenly speaks, his voice cracking a little as he continues looking away from her.

“Heathcliff…” Ishmael suddenly says, her head swimming with too many thoughts as she holds an arm over her chest.

“…” the two shared a bit of silence, the tension in the air suddenly swelling… before it was completely broken through with their shared laughter. It was clear they both wanted to talk with each other, but they were both too stupid to strangle their worries themselves.

“Do… you want to continue this, luv…?” Heathcliff asks, rubbing the back of his head through a field of hair.

“If… you’re fine with it… I don’t particularly mind…” Ishmael replies, head tempted to turn right so she could look at him.

“Yes or no, Ishma…” the brunet says, only wanting an absolute out of her.

“Haah, why do you keep calling me that, Cliffy?” The redhead skips past his question, choosing to ignore it since her name was Ishmael. Not Ishma, not Ishmel, Ishmael. And he was going to call her tha—

“Fine. Is that a yes or a no, Ishy?” She went silent, no doubt finding something wrong with what he said this time, “oh come on you ca—”

“Say it again…” Woah, she must’ve been quite upset if she was whispering… “I want to hear you say Ishy again, Heath…” Turning, the redhead looked upon his scarred back, taking in every single cut and gash within moments.

“Really?” He was taken aback, completely surprised by her. Such distrust… it felt like a blade was thrust into her heart, slicing it in twain. “Hah, and here I was thinkin’ you were pissed, Ishy,” she smiled, blushing a little at the way that nickname rolled off of his tongue.

“Just because I’m quiet since this is embarrassing doesn’t mean I’m angry,” Ishmael angrily states, causing Heathcliff to scoff.

“Then what are you right now? Stupid?”

“I’m going to pretend you just said pretty,” Ishmael says, hearing an ‘absolutely’ drift into her ears. “Anyway, to answer you, yes. I wish to bathe with you, Heathcliff…”

“Wow~ How formal.” Heathcliff teases as he turns, coming to stare at a curtain of beautiful hair. “Maybe you should’ve become family Hierarch instead,” he was in awe with how much hair she had, but it was far less manageable than his own with how it looked.

“Pfft, hell no,” Ishmael scoffed, knowing full well that her heart had changed overnight. “My brother can handle it just fine… But hey, can we not talk about this stuff? I just wanna relax…”

“Hmm,” the brunet nods as he picks up his chair, bringing it right over to her, “I mean, I’m gonna be right here naggin’ ya, ain’t I?”

“Haaah… you’re right,” Ishmael mutters back, a playful grin on her face as Heathcliff sits down beside her. “You’re going to be such a nuisance,” leaning, the redhead comes to rest the side of her head against his chest. “Maybe you could be less of a nuisance if you called me the prettiest woman you’ve ever seen.”

“Fishing for compliments, eh?” Heathcliff remarks as he scratches his chin, “well you’re wrong then. ‘Cause you’re not the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen,” she wonders where this could’ve been heading, because he certainly wasn’t going to just leave it like that. She knew Heathcliff a lot better than that, so it was just unlikely that he’d be an asshole just to be an asshole. “Damn sure there’s no-one as pretty as you—” He strains himself a little, but the brunet cranes his head down to her cheek and kisses her. “—in this entire City.”

She smiles up at him, teeth glittering in the bright lights above, “How flattering~” Ishmael’s right hand moved upwards, cupping the underside of his chin, thumb gently going across one of his scars. “You know, I really didn’t think we’d get to be this close again,” she smirks, lips curling with delight over her latest tease. “Makes my heart flutter, oh, handsome oaf before me~”

“One: I’m not an oaf, I’m an idiot,” Heathcliff says, knowing full well that her nickname for him would forever ring its beautiful bells within his mind if ever she said it. “And second off,” Heathcliff brushes against her cheek, “thanks for the compliment, ya pretty bird~” Then, all of a sudden, the brunet pinches her cheek. “Now come on, let’s stop gabbin’ around doin’ nothin’ and get t’ cleanin’ while gabbing.” She playfully swats his hand away, after all, his little pinch was delicate enough to leave a pesky mosquito alive… Tch.

“Fine fine, I’ll admit though,” the redhead said, having been close enough to Heathcliff, “you smell like fish, Heath.” The brunet furrowed his brow before touching his nose to his bicep and inhaling.

And wow was she right. He smelled exactly like the lake outside the temple… “Well so do you then, luv,” his grin is exactly like hers, though his teeth are a bit more sharp like a wolf’s. “And to fix that I suggest we get wet.”

“Gross.” The redhead mutters, the lift in her voice brought about the fun she was having from toying with him.

“You’re gross.” Heathcliff returns, swatting it back as if it were a spike in a game of beach volleyball. Or, in his case, pond volleyball.

“No, you’re gross,” Ishmael said, beginning a chain that would forever go back and forth as they bathed. And, at some point, would cannibalize itself before transforming into a wholly new insult. One that continued to change and become born anew until the moment they were both in the same bed, passed out on top of one another.

With one arm over her shoulder and on the back of her head, Heathcliff laid face down, the redhead sleeping on top of his back with at least half of her body on him. It wasn’t comfortable by any means, but they clearly didn’t mind. Otherwise, how could they have gotten such peaceful sleep? No, they didn’t mind, and they never would mind.

For they got to sleep with the person they had valued most in life. That, and Ishmael had a little extra to it considering she was sleeping with her future fiancé.

And perhaps her husband as well… Ah, who was she kidding, of course she’d be marrying this idiot. She didn’t want to let him go again… so she’d grip tight to the rope that he let hang down from his wrist for her. And she’d tie herself to it, never to let go or be cast off again. If ever she was, however, the redhead knew one thing.

And that was how Heathcliff would never let her drift far from him again. That much was certain to her…

Their beating, scarred hearts would never wish to stray from one another again after the past few days' events. That much was certain to them…

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨