Alouette stops the car on the side of an empty street a couple of hours after sunset. There's nothing but them and their car surrounded by miles and miles of dead crops, the road stretching out in the night like a silvery snake.

For the past few hours she's focused on putting as much distance as possible between them and Whitsen, driving with no real destination, and now even she wouldn't be able to tell where they are. All she knows is that it isn't one of the main roads, which means it's the perfect place to allow them to rest a little bit. Not many people drive between cities—especially not at night—which means they won't come across anyone. For the first time in well over twenty-four hours, they're away from cameras and civilisation. They're in the middle of nowhere, and so they're safer than they've ever been.

"Let's stop for a few hours," she mumbles, hiding the card in the pocket of her clothes farthest away from Harry. She's only slept a couple of hours in the past two days, and her tiredness is starting to get to her. She can't sleep, but she needs to rest at least a little bit.

"Here?" Alouette can hear the judgemental edge in Harry's voice.

"You're welcome to lie down in the middle of the street if you'd prefer," she bites back, bringing her knees to her chest and hiding her face in the cocoon of her arms to let Harry know she has no intention of spending the night talking to him.

He doesn't speak again, and Alouette slowly gives in to the silence. There are so many decisions to make, so many new steps to take, but she can't think about it now. She'll worry about it all later, because she's finally able to relax without needing to worry about Harry finding a way to contact the police or his Palace.

It's a moonless night, but she finds solace in the darkness for once. She starts going over all the events of the past two days, processing them all and storing them on the side for later, trying to figure out what the Revolution thinks of her now. Do they believe her a traitor, or does she still have room to come to an agreement with them?

She'll have to figure out a way to get in contact with them safely tomorrow—a way that won't involve Harry getting shot on sight. She has to get in contact with Ezra directly—she can't afford to trust anyone else.

The silence is deep inside the car, but she doesn't look up. The quietude settles into her bones, heaves down on her limbs, and soon her breath evens out and her eyes close.

• • •

Alouette wakes with a start to the sharp white light of day.

She jumps up on her seat and automatically checks the one next to hers, her heart dropping when she realises Harry isn't in the car.

She bites back some curses and automatically reaches for her gun. It's still there, thankfully, and so is the card of the car. She should've locked the doors, she shouldn't have fallen asleep, she scolds herself mentally.

After a quick glance around, though, she spots Harry's figure leaning against the hood of the vehicle.

He's bathing in the silvery sunlight, his eyelashes long and dark against his pale cheekbones. He isn't even facing her, but he still looks like an angel with his dark, mussed hair and white sweater. If in the Palace he'd looked like he'd fallen from grace, now it looks like he's never known anything aside from it. Nobody manages to look ethereal like he does.

Alouette gets out of the car and moves to stand in front of him, crossing her arms over her chest. "What are you doing out here?"

Harry shrugs, fixing his grey-green gaze on her. "I was considering escaping, but I decided against it."

She raises an eyebrow, but doesn't comment on it. "How long have I been asleep?"

"Seven hours." He's playing with something, twirling it around his long fingers with ease, and it glints in the sunlight. With a start, Alouette realises it's her knife.

"When did you take that?!"

Harry follows her gaze to the blade in his hand. "Oh, this?" The corners of his lips turn up imperceptibly. "Three hours ago."

Alouette gulps. The thought of him reaching into her pocket and stealing her weapon while she was asleep sends a chill down her spine. She was defenceless. He could've killed her. He could've escaped. And yet here she is, all in one piece, and he's still with her. She isn't dumb enough to believe it's because he somehow cares about her—there's just nowhere for him to go without a vehicle.

"Give it back," she says, taking a step forward.

Harry pushes off the hood of the car and steps back. "No."

"I said, give it back!" She reaches for it but he hides it behind his back.

She wraps her hands around his waist in an attempt to get to it but he holds it up, out of her reach. She puts her hand on his shoulder and jumps up, but he holds it out father away. A smile that screams trouble is now on Harry's face, and Alouette wishes she still had the knife just so that she could threaten it out of his face.

She scoffs and steps away. "Fine, you can have it," she gives in.

Harry seems satisfied, but his win is short-lived.

"I hope you won't mind if I keep this, then." She holds up Harry's black card, that she took from his pocket when she jumped on him.

Harry's eyes widen for a short second. The look on his face is satisfying, but not nearly as satisfying as it becomes when she flexes it between her fingers and then snaps it in half.

"One less problem now, don't you think?" Alouette tells him throwing it at his feet, and this time she's the one smiling. "Now get in the car."

He gets back inside and she speeds down the street again, determined to find a street signal that will let her know exactly where they are so that she can decide where to go next.

"It was irresponsible of you to fall asleep like that," Harry comments after some minutes. "I could've killed you."

I could've killed you.

"Why didn't you?"

"Then I would've had to bury you somewhere or drive the car back to the Palace with you in it," he replied. "The first is too much work and the second is downright creepy."

Alouette blinks at the reply. She knows he's lying—neither of those two options would be enough to stop him if he truly wanted her dead, but it's unpleasant to hear him speak like that anyway.

Think positive, she reminds herself to keep herself from biting back.

Harry is right, it was reckless of her to sleep like that. But her falling asleep means she's now well rested, while Harry has been awake for about fifty hours now. He won't last much longer.

She takes his biting comments without saying a word, because she knows that soon enough he'll be out cold.

Alouette stays quiet, and Harry falls silent soon after. She could speak, engage him in any kind of conversation, but she does not.

They pass through a small town, and Alouette finally knows where they are. They're driving towards the coast, in the opposite direction of where she needs to go.

She parks not too far away from a small supermarket and turns to look at Harry.

As she predicted, he ended up falling asleep. She isn't surprised, even though at times he seems to be anything but, he's still human. She knew he couldn't last too long. She considers taking her knife back, but she knows he's a very light sleeper—and the last thing she wants to do is waking him up while she could take advantage of the situation.

Alouette checks her wallet and counts the money she has. A few hundreds—if she's careful, they'll last for a few weeks.

Keeping her eyes on Harry, she slowly opens the door on her side and silently slides out. She locks him inside the car and walks into the supermarket.

She buys some fruit, some bottles of water and bread, enough to last them for a few days. At the end she caves in and gets the necessary to make some sandwiches, even though she knows they'll have to consume the additional food fairly quickly since they have no fridge to store it in.

When she enters the car again, she's pleased to discover that Harry is still very much asleep.

She starts the car and drives out of the city, deciding to take another road to get back to where she needs to go to confuse Harry.

It takes Harry three more hours to come back to the present—three hours of glorious silence that Alouette adores. It's raining now, so much that she can hardly see where she's going.

Harry stirs awake, a frown instantly twisting his features when he realises he too has fallen asleep without meaning to.

"Welcome back to reality," Alouette says, earning a glare from him.

He runs his fingers through his brunette curls as he studies the world outside through the rain-stained window.

"I decided we're going to Pans," she announces, giving him a dark little smile.

Harry's head snaps in her direction. "The old country? It isn't safe."

"It isn't safe for you," Alouette specifies. "It's much safer for me, so we're going."

Harry doesn't say a word, and she knows what he's thinking. Older cities with less cameras and even less soldiers, where the Revolution has spread like a deadly poison. He'll be more at risk, but she doesn't mind because that also means he'll need her more to stay alive.

And the more he needs her, the less likely he'll be to leave. She's had hours to plan her next move carefully.

The rain is much worse now, and Alouette can't see anything at all on the other side of the windshield. She parks on the side of the road, not wanting to accidentally crash yet another car.

"What happened to feeling powerful, then?" Harry asks her, breaking the silence. "Have you decided to hide away from the Revolution, like a scared little creature?" He taps on the side of the car. "You refused to kill me, and now you're running away. I wonder if that makes you a coward—"

"Will you shut up?!" Alouette explodes. "I'm trying to keep you alive, but it's like you want to get shot at this point."

He lets out a cold chuckle. "Oh, Alouette... If only you'd told me what a bad girl you are when we were in the Palace, I would've loved to do something about it." He turns towards her and gives her a shameless look. "What do your friends call you?" He suddenly asks.

Alouette immediately tenses up, and it doesn't go unnoticed by Harry.

"How about the friend that had a bird tattooed on your body?" he suggests, moving closer to her. "Tell me, did you forget him back at the Revolution?"

She gulps, and he smirks.

"Is it Al, Allie?" He lifts her chin with his finger. "What would he think if he knew you kissed me? Do you think he'd get jealous if he knew all the places of your body I explored with my tongue?" He grazes her lips with his thumb. "Do you think he'd still taste me if he kissed his Allie on the mouth?"

Alouette pushes him away. "Stop it," she hisses, opening the car door and walking out in the rain.

A moment goes by, and then she hears his door open as well.

"Aren't you worried I'll run?"

Alouette spins around. "Look around, Harry!" She exclaims, spreading her arms open. "Where would you run? There's nothing here!"

The raindrops are cold on her skin, but she doesn't care. Anything is better than being locked inside the car with him one second longer. She keeps walking away, not sparing Harry another glance.

"Is this your plan, then?" Harry isn't even shouting, yet his voice is reaching her ears distinctly over the rainstorm. "Failing to kill me and abandoning me here?"

He grazes her arm and Alouette turns around fast. She tries to push him away, but he grabs her wrists and pulls her towards him, forcing her to kneel on the ground at his feet.

"I should have you killed for the things you did," Harry murmurs, crouching on the ground with her, his face inches away from hers. "I should have you beg my forgiveness."

"I am not sorry," she hisses in reply, "and I do not lie."

He lets out a sharp chuckle. "Isn't lying all you've been doing?"

Alouette clenches her teeth, glaring into his eyes. "Do you want me to cower in front of you? Is that what you want?"

Harry raises his chin, looking at her as if she's nothing more that a speckle of dirt on a freshly polished boot. "Not anymore."

"Then what the hell do you want—"

Her words die in her throat when he moves closer, grazing her jaw with his hand in a mocking caress. "I want to rip your soul into pieces," he whispers, "I want to make you regret the very second you decided to step into my Palace."

"Nobody would ever make me regret my choice to ruin you," she spits.

Harry smiles, and it would take her breath away if she wasn't sure it's the start of her demise. "You still haven't met me, then," he says, and then he crashes his mouth against hers.

A jolt runs through Alouette's body in the second Harry's lips land on hers. They're kneeling in the middle of the street under a thunderstorm and his hands are on her waist, her brain is in the clouds and her soul is lost in the lights of Northfair all over again, even though they're so far away from the capital now.

The raindrops are sliding into every nook and crevice of their bodies and their hair is sticking to their forehead. Harry deepens the kiss and cups her cheek with his hand, and the magic is shattered.

Alouette suddenly remembers where they are, the circumstances of that soulless, manipulative kiss. A kiss made to destroy, a kiss made to hurt. A kiss to remind her that she once entertained the idea of being his. To remind her that he once owned part of her soul—that same part he now seeks to destroy.

She goes to push him away, but she realises a second too late that instead of doing that, she's holding on to him.

His hand slides down her side, down the small of her back, until—

Alouette grabs his wrist just as it hovers above her gun. The distraction is enough to shake her out of the trance she's fallen in, and she pushes him away.

"Nice try," she mutters, standing up and walking back towards the car, the echo of his laugh making her blood boil.

She's completely drenched now, and suddenly walking out of the car doesn't seem like such a good idea anymore. It'll take ages to dry her clothes off.

"You want to know what I think, Alouette?" Harry says from behind her, "I think the only thing you hate is that you can't hate me."

Alouette turns around and points her gun at him.

Harry raises an eyebrow. "I know by now that you won't shoot."

"I know" she replies, "but it makes me feel better."

She gets back into the car and soon after she's joined by Harry. His hair is completely wet as well and so are his clothes, so she turns on the heating system of the car and cuddles up in her seat.

"It's Al, by the way," she mutters. "They call me Al."

"Al," Harry repeats, trying the sound on his tongue, and then lets out a displeased hum. "I think I prefer Lark."