"It was real."

He saved your life, he saved your life, he saved your life, the thoughts kept repeating long after Gwen had finally stumbled her way home, had grown louder, more haunting with every step she took into her kitchen, sinful hands shaking and greedy as she clutched onto the counter as if it were a raft in the drowning seas. Saints, he'd actually saved her life, done so like it hadn't even meant a damn thing, had saved her when she'd broke him, when she'd crushed his heart in her cruel fingers because she hadn't expected she'd be around long enough to see the aftermath and yet there she stood.

The rumbling thunder outside did little to distract her, nor did the quick flashes of lightning that had followed her like a lost pet, in fact, all it did was made her head hurt and force her whole body to roll with uncontrollable tremors, her legs shaking beneath her as if warning her of her own exhaustion that would only get worse if she continued to let the burdens of her awaiting emotions get the better of her. Sometimes, she truly did miss the horror of the Stranger...because at least then, she had something to hide behind instead of this hollow shell.

"Fuck." Such a word was practically punched from Gwen's bruised lips as she heaved a sigh with her head bent low, bones straining with the weight of everything that she was forced to hold up, mind reeling still from fates's cruel punishment as she wiped a hand down her face tiredly, as if trying to scrub the nightmares of the day away...only to almost rench when she felt the slick dampness of perspiration in her palm, looking down in horror to the smudge of dirt upon her arm, the specks of blood on her elbow, something she had stupidly ignored in her own disastrous turmoil until it was too late.

You're going to get sick, you're going to die, you're going to rot, you're going to burn in damnation for your sins-

And the Rietveld girl barely even lasted another moment before she was throwing up her lunch into one of the buckets she kept under her sink as flashes of the past came rushing up to greet her like a mocking ghost that only wanted her ruin, cursing and sobbing as her throat became bloodied and raw, the agony lacing through her every breath until she could test copper mortality on her tongue which only made things so much worse as she heaved and heaved and heaved into the quiet of the night with only the still raining skies to bare witness to the pathetic omen of death made human.

She thought she was over this, thought with the so called resurrection of Kaz that she'd lose such weakness that had tormented her, because the cause of it all was fucking alive, perhaps not as she remembered him, perhaps as a phantom with his face and still beating heart, but it wasn't like she was the same girl she was either, it wasn't like she, herself had killed the most softest parts of herself for survival too...but as Gwen stood up to scrub her trembling hands raw in the basin to the side of her, she realised that she would never be let go from the clawed talons of her trauma, of her grief, that they would always simply be apart of her.

Perhaps, because she was so busy being torn apart by her own thoughts, that was why she didn't hear the call of her name as she stood there and kept scrubbing, didn't hear the limping footsteps, didn't hear the sharp inhale right by her ear until it was too late...until gloved hands wrapped around her wrist and roughly yanked her away from the basin with a snarl, snapping her right back to attention as the wind howled in warning, ripping herself away from Kaz's grip and wondering what his problem was...only to feel the sudden ache of her palms, and finally glancing down to see them dripping red.

"Oh."

And a few minutes later had her sitting upon her counter with a roll of fresh bandages being wrapped around the raw flesh that stung something awful, occasional hisses slipping through her mouth when she caught the sensitive skin, pretending she couldn't see the dark look in Kaz's eyes as he watched her from her table with his leather bound hands clenched tightly over his cane...but eventually, even she wasn't immune to the scorching glare that felt like it was actually burning her as it drilled holes into the side of her head. "I didn't do it on purpose, I just got distracted, stop looking at me like that."

"Perhaps you should consider buying yourself some gloves if that's your reaction to merely brushing against dirt."

"No, then it would truly be impossible to tell us apart, wouldn't it?" Gwen smirked, something hollow aching in her birdcage chest as she finally looked up at him, the scrutiny of his stare making her skin feel like it was being boiled alive, like the flames of hell licking at her heels, dancing ever closer with every mistaken breath as she desperately thought of a way to change the subject, to get him to stop looking at her that way, like she was something to be pitied, and not yet realising she'd tear such emotion away with bloodstained teeth.

"You know, I still can't believe you kept Archibald for all those years, thought you hated that thing." She muttered quietly, silently praying that he'd take the bait, that he'd leave the subject alone because she truly felt unsightly, like she had been proven to be human, all the while she was still learning to make room with the darkness battling inside of her, angry at her for ruining what would of been its completion, angry at her for coming back with fingers stripped to the bone as they clawed their way put of her cage prison of mourning just for a mere brush of love, gobbling it all with her greedy mouth that only took.

But for a moment, it looked as though Kaz wasn't about to grant such a mercy, still staring her down with his brows furrowed and his lips set in a thin line...before that expression finally eased out into feigned nonchalance as he leaned back into the chair beneath him, picking some imaginary lint ball from his sleeve, all the while looking bored out of his mind. "If you must know, I kept it as a reminder."

"A reminder of what?"

"Of what Ketterdam had taken from me, and of why I was going to tear it apart." He said, and that dark gravel of his voice was nothing short of dangerous as it filled the room like vile smoke...and it really was easy for her to see just how her brother had earned the title of Dirtyhands when he looked like death itself had become him. Saints, they really were far too young to be this twisted, to be this cruel and fucking destructive and broken...yet there they were, so ruined by the world that was meant to let them grow, only to try and abandon them in the dirt, to wipe their history into mere dust, and yet, like a Phoenix from ashes, they'd risen to make the world bow instead.

Gwen truly wanted to laugh, wanted to laugh until her throat bled because she was afraid that if she didn't she'd cry, but instead, she just cleared her throat quietly, deciding to change the subject into something less heavy, less traumatic, tucking her hands underneath her armpits and trying not to physically grimace at the way the raw skin seemed come alive in agony, protesting the way it was being smothered by the dreadful heat her body was radiating. "So, why are you here? Didn't Jesper already tell you how our little misson went?"

"He did, yes. Also told me that you saved his life."

Saints, why did it suddenly feel so...awkward in here, she thought to herself, shifting around uncomfortably and avoiding Kaz and his accusing eyes as if her life depended on it, because there was obviously a motive in his question, and she wasn't all that sure that she wanted to know what it was as she focused on the crooked tile upon her kitchen floor, wondering if she just ignored he'd eventually go away, however, after a minute of almost painful silence, she grunted tiredly and rubbed her palm down her face swiftly. "Yes, and he saved mine too...where are you going with this?"

"You know exactly where I'm going with this, Stranger." The bastard of the Barell, dirtyhands, Kaz Brekker was definitely about to have that kind of conversation with her, the talk, and honestly, Gwen was contemplating either throwing herself out of a window or just sticking to what had once been her job and killing him dead as she blinked at him, mouth dry with her every swallow feeling like sandpaper in her mouth, the mantra of this wasn't happening, this wasn't happening, this wasn't happening, doing absolutely nothing to deter the fact that it seemed to definitely be happening...because of course it would be.

"Most brothers tend to stay out of their sisters love lives, you realise that right?" The Rietveld girl finally snapped as she eventually summoned up some kind of semblance of sanity to spit something out that wasn't some jumbled mess of words, however, he only continued to look up at her boredly, as if he had all the time in the world for her to actually talk, and she wondered if it would be such a sin to strangle him as she sighed. "I don't know what you want me to say, of course I saved him, I'd do it every time obviously, consequences be damned."

However, it seemed that that was exactly what Kaz wanted as he nodded, the sharp panes of his face, so frustratingly similar to her own softening just slightly, as if he could see the desire that was tearing her into little pieces, as if he could see the way her love was swallowing her whole because she didn't know any better...and then, as he spoke up once again, she realized that her brother, truly was, in fact, a massive bastard. "If you care about the sharpshooter so much...why don't you go prove it? There's only so much moping I can take from the both of you before heads start rolling."

If only it was that simple, she wanted to say, if only my bleeding heart would bridge the gap of its ruination, if only my hollow chest would make room instead of destroying what I hold dear, if only you could make a home out of a monster, if only I wasn't as false as the gods, as vows made in wine, if only, if only, if only, there was so many things she wanted to say but she forced herself to choke on the words, tucking it under her tongue in the hopes it would become a simple memory, in the hopes that her grief would be forgotten. "Yes, strangely enough, I don't see that going well considering I betrayed him, you haven't seen the way he looks at me-"

"You're wrong...I've seen exactly how he looks at you, especially when he thinks no one is watching."

And then, Gwen felt herself freeze as those simple words washed over her, blood pumping through her veins louder than the rumbling skies as Kaz finally stood up and walked over towards her, a muscle in the sharp jaw they shared twitching for half a moment, before he slowly lifted his gloved hand like it was a burden and placed it upon her shoulder with some mocking comfort that had her eyes aching with the weight of her unurshed tears. "We never get what we deserve, Stranger, you know that as well as I do...but that doesn't stop us from taking it anyway now, does it? Just something to think about."
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But think about it Gwen did, every minute, every hour, every day as time stretched into eons and made the earth slow and blurred around her, forcing herself to go through the motions of her slaughter, to twist her delicate hands into something deadly and reap the souls of the guilty like death themselves, dancing around the subject of Jesper like it was a game while truthfully, he was all she could think about. His lips against hers that made mountains quiver, his smile that made the sun seem dull, the beating of his heart like the drums of indescribable music, everything about him swarming her thoughts until there was nothing there but him.

And then, that was when a plan had begun to form...well, no, that wasn't quite right, because it wasn't a singular plan, oh no, she wasn't that lucky, wasn't that put together apparantly which was really ironic indeed. She was the perfect killer, so well in tune with her vile craft that her name was a mere myth and had been for years now, never spoken louder than a whisper in fear of bringing her forth to wreak havoc, never caught, never found out, nothing more than a legend that haunted Ketterdam like their sins made brutal...and yet she didn't know what to do with herself when it came to being human.

Which, of course, lead her to where she was currently, standing in the middle of the sharpshooters room in the ever gloomy Slat, desperately trying to shove the sunflowers that had cost her a small fortune back into her bag because she really didn't know what she was going to say to him, and this was the fourth time this week that she'd second guessed herself which had lead to her panicked movements that were borderline frantic. She was the Stranger, she was a monster, a creature torn apart by the storm inside of her, the damned legend...and here she was being brought to ruin by bloody flowers.

Take about a fall from grace.

However, she was so focused on making sure that everything in the Zemeni boys room was exactly how he'd left it before she'd stumbled in to fill it with everything he had once talked about adoring, that she didn't hear the footsteps getting ever closer, didn't hear the rustling of the door handle, didn't hear said door opening...but she did hear the questioning call of her name from a familar voice that had her wanting to scream as she shot up to stare at Jesper in wide-eyed horror. "What are you doing back so soon?"

"Back so- this is my room."

Kaz had promised her that he wouldn't be back to the Slat until later the little bastard, and even the wraith had uttered something about keeping him distracted for a while which obviously did not happen...she felt like she'd been tricked, she didn't know how, she had a suspicion of why, but she definitely felt like she was being tricked because she was most definitely not ready for this, she had serious doubt she would ever be ready to face up to her terrible sins and repent to the only saint she'd ever worship. "I can explain- I can explain I promise-"

And then, whatever she was about to say died upon her tongue when her bag finally snapped through the pressure and clattered to the floor, the sunflowers crumpled and scattered, the hideous orange shirt she'd bought him that she knew he'd fancy, chocolates and bottles of whiskey rolling over the floorboards while she prayed to the saints to just let the earth open up and swallow her whole, especially when she watched Jesper's face twist into a grimace when said bottle rolled over his unsuspecting foot, well, this was going splendid, perhaps she should really look into throwing herself out of a window.

"This...this isn't really going how I planned." There was a tremor in her voice, a shakiness that ruined the image of control she was desperately trying to keep and shattering it like fine glass in her palms as she looked at him, trying not to start crying as he looked back at her with those precious eyes of grey staring her down, not giving anything away, no hint, no displease, no curiosity, just absolutely nothing...and that made everything that much harder as she finally took a breath and swallowed down her fear like it was acid. "Look, I don't know how to apologise to someone, Jesper."

"Trust me, I can see that."

"Thank you, that's very helpful." Gwen snapped, skin rippling beneath her like an ominous warning as the air inside of the room seemed to pull taunt like a string about to snap, the massacre of her own unease twisting at her until she felt stripped naked as she was swift to compose herself as to not let the skies rumble. "But I am trying to, apologise that is, however it's alot harder than I thought it'd be- I kept buying flowers but they never looked right so I started buying some other crap but then I thought you might see it as me trying to bribe you and manipulate you- and the whole heartfelt apology just kept coming out wrong-"

"Then why even bother?" Jesper said, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, the question weighing heavy upon him because he didn't understand why she was doing all of this, why she was drawing this all out until it felt like his bleeding heart was out in the open for the whole of the Barell to see and laugh and shoot at, hadn't she already gotten what she'd wanted? She'd went from the Stranger, the deadly ghost that killed in the silence of the night, to being Kaz's long lost sister like some stupid dramatic book that was one clique after another.

But then, then the Rietveld girl laughed, tearing his attention from his own self-deprecating thoughts at the painful sounding thing that was bordering on a sob as she rubbed her bandaged hand down her face with a grunt. "Because I like you...and I'm afraid of saying a stronger word. Please, just let me- let me try, okay? There are so many things I want to say, what I want to apologise for because there's absolutely nothing I wouldn't do for you...I mean, saints, I'd ruin myself into tiny pieces if you wished it, I'd slaughter the masses for you, spare a life for you, go to that ridiculous play you kept trying to hint at me to go to, I would come back from the dead for you because you are worth all of that and so much more."

The words kept tumbling out, the floodgates open and drowning the sharpshooter in her adoration as he stood there, muscles coiled tight and his breath feeling like it was physically being taken from his lungs at such a compliment, at such a raw confession, which he really did have to appreciate the irony of considering the present company he had in front of him, long fingers fidgeting at the pistols by his side because he wanted desperately to make a joke, to scoff, to laugh, to fall back into his own armoured protection, but what finally did come out of his lips was nothing of the sort as he stared st her, wide-eyed and wanting. "You really think that?"

"Think? Jesper, I know, you are extraordinary and incredible and so frustratingly brilliant that all the magic of the world seems dull."

Saints, could you sound anymore pathetic? Gwen thought to herself, fighting down the urge to run, to hide away from her own vulnerability as everything inside of herself ordered her to stop, screaming and clawing as something inside of her died, rotting against the walls of her throat in the dying winds where not even a whisper would be heard from it dying lips. But Jesper's face didn't even change as he stepped towards her grey eyes glistening in the haunting moonlight behind him, painting him like some ethereal god that made her traitorous heart sing.

"You made me second guess everything, every little thing, I dreamt of you, thought of you, and-"

"Stop. Gwen, just-just stop." The Zemeni boy was shaking, practically trembling as he stood just a few steps in front of, the space feeling like he was worlds apart from her, away from the ruin that she was, away from being swallowed by the black abyss of her greed...and then that distance was abruptly cut short as Jesper stormed towards her, gentle hands rough with the calluses of his craft cupping her face carefully...before he was suddenly bending down and pressing his lips against her own, all teeth and bite as she whimpered, clutching at his green shirt, wanting him closer, wanting his skin against hers, wanting everything he'd give to her and more.

His mouth, his glorious, incredible mouth kept pushing against hers, swallowing her gasps and pulling the most embarrassing sounds from her throat as he nipped at her roughly, so different from the way he cradled her body towards him, the way his palms seemed unable to make up their mind about holding her delicate neck that could break so easy in his sinful hands, or about grabbing at the soft curve of her waist so she was completely pressed against him, with nothing between them but clothes and even that could be rearranged.

And when Jesper eventually pulled back, placing his forehead against hers to exhale softly against her bruised flesh with a huff, Gwen felt herself deliriously chasing after his lips, wanting him to keep going until she'd forget her own name, eyes still sealed shut, refusing to open in fear she'd find herself in a dream as she focused on the simple touch of his thumb stroking her sharp jaw, truly wondering if death had finally taken her as her whole body seemed dance in bliss at the mere brush of him against her...but then he chuckled, and she could feel his grin against her skin, and she forced her gaze to open, to find him looking down at her like he always had, the moon to his sun.

"I hope you realise you have alot of making up to do. I'm talking flowers every day until I'm sixty at least."

"Only sixty?" She whispered drowsy like a fool, drunk on the taste of him still on her tongue, just drunk on him as her legs threatened to sway beneath her in some kind of mocking swoon. But she couldn't judge herself too harshly, she couldn't even dare when the sharpshooter, her sharpshooter had kissed her like that, like she was the oxygen he needed to breathe before his head would be forced beneath the waves, like she was the poison to his cure, the death to his life, and saints she wanted to kiss him again, wanted to kiss him until she couldn't even think straight anymore.

However, Jesper only chuckled, a surprisingly quiet sound as he brushed a dark curl from her forehead, tucking it behind her ear in a gesture so familar it made her ache, still holding her up, still holding her against him like if he let go of her even for a mere second she'd crumble like the broken glass by their feet, cutting into fragile flesh to make them bleed like the Stranger once would have. "Well love, when I'm that old I'm guessing I'll probably not have to watch this delicious figure of mine, so then you can start buying me chocolates. "

"Jesper-"

I'll buy you anything you wish for, I'll carve my own heart from hy hollow chest and gift it to you on a platter engraved with gold of you keep looking at me like that, keep kissing me like that, keep loving me like that, Gwen wanted to say, but it was like the Zemeni boy could read her mind as he shook his head, as if afraid of that confession, something serious twisting his face for half a second as he looked down at her carefully. "I don't forgive you, not by a long shot, gorgeous, not by a mile, least not yet...but I like you, still...and I'm scared of saying a stronger word too."

She'd take whatever he'd give her, and when she said as much, she was blessed with that smile, that damning smile that had ruined her completely as he bent his head low once more, lips brushing over hers as the heavens opened and poured as if rejoicing, that word, that powerful word, a mere sentence that had a hold over the two that they didn't dare name, circling over each of their pounding hearts and knotting it together with the red strings of fate pulled taunt, I love you, I love you, I love you...what a wonderful way to say I'm home.
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DISCLAIMER;

Anddddd that's a wrap folks, the Stranger is finally completed...I wanted to thank you all for reading, for your comments and votes, for just loving the story even on days I didn't. I'm not going to promise that I'm completely done with Gwen and Jesper's story because I don't know what the future holds, but for now, it's done and I'm content with the ending they definitely deserved. Thankyou all so much once again, I love you all!! <33