While Mark and Dark slept through the sunrise, huddled in the warmth of the grandiose bed, Ethan sat before the mirror and felt at his face.

    His brows knitted as he stared at himself, roughly swallowing at the dryness of his mouth. He reached for the tall glass of saltwater on the vanity desk and chugged it, letting the liquid course through his mouth and down his throat.

    He gave a weary sigh when the dryness remained.

    Ethan reached for his phone and opened it, his heart wrenching as he did. The lockscreen was of him and Mark—he still hadn't changed it ever since he disappeared.

    He shook his head and pushed the thought aside. Of course, he worried about Mark—wondered where he was or if he was even still alive. But Ethan knew better than to mess with High Evolveds.

    Regret simmered in his chest. And still, despite that knowledge, he gave Mark information on the Tear Stealer. If anything, it was probably his fault Mark hadn't come back.

    He sighed and unlocked the phone, pressing call on one of the names. It gave a few rings before picking up.

    "Konray," he greeted, giving a weary smile at himself in the mirror. "I, uh... I might need that guy of yours again."

    "Your venom's gone already?"

    Ethan's face went hot at that, and he scratched the back of his neck. The mere phrase made him even more aware of how dry his mouth was.

    "I-I've been really stressed lately... okay? E-especially since Mark—"

    "How badly do you need the serum?" interrupted Konray. "Sojour's out of town for two more weeks."

    "Two weeks?" breathed Ethan. He ran a hand over his mouth. "Isn't there a stock of that shit in the City? I know there's other Evolveds like m-me who have this same—"

    "Ay, shush it," said Konray. Ethan quickly obeyed, his lip quivering. Even he hated admitting what he truly was. Konray sighed, a silence passing through the phone.

"I'm sure there's knock-off vials in the streets," she said. A chair creaked through her side of the line, and Ethan could practically see her kicking her feet up on her messy desk. He swore a stack of papers fell to the ground at the mere motion. "It might mess you up, though."

Ethan stared at himself and sighed. He stood up and walked to his kitchen, bringing the glass with him.

"The first time I let this happen, I swear my tongue would've fallen out," said Ethan. "I-if I wait too long, my mouth—"

"Well, you're not gonna die," snapped Konray. "That's one thing for sure."

Ethan frowned, tucking the phone in between his shoulder and ear as he filled up the glass with water. He paced around the kitchen and grabbed a packet of salt, pouring the entire thing inside and watching the white specs fall to the bottom of the cup.

"I won't be able to breathe," he spat. "Just imagine living without saliva, Konray. You won't. Not really, anyway."

Konray sighed. "You're right... you're right."

Ethan made a sarcastic sound as he drank the water, the sound echoing in the glass and hitting against his face. He let the salty tang linger in his mouth this time, unaffected by it.

"If I could make the serum myself, I could," Ethan said, licking the salt away from his lips. "But you know how I am about having things like that in my house..."

Konray sighed, and he could practically see her roll her eyes. "Being an Evolved is nothing to be ashamed of, kid," she said. "You make such a big deal out of it when you don't really have any abilities."

"We're lowlifes, Konray," said Ethan, leaning against the counter. He took another long drink of his saltwater. "We both know we don't really fit in with the others."

"Too cool for humans and not cool enough for the snobby Highs," she laughed. She gave a hum, then went more serious.

"Hey, we'll work something out, okay? I can call Sojour and ask her where the formula is. Y'know how she is with phones."

Ethan rolled his eyes. "I'll be dead before you even try to make the serum."

"Oh, please," she scoffed, brushing off the comment. "Can you handle a couple more days, sport? That'll be Thursday."

Ethan sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah... I'm gonna have to."

"Buy in bulk next time," laughed Konray. "See ya then, Blank."

Ethan grumbled at the name, gulping down the rest of the water and getting a mouthful of salt. He cringed. "Not my name anymore," he said. "See ya."

He hung up and sighed, glancing down at his lockscreen.

Could Mark really be dead...?

———

Mark woke with a soft groan, pale morning light slipping through the grainy window. He moved to rub his face, brows furrowing when he couldn't.

    He opened his eyes and glanced up, finding Dark's sleeping face inches away from his. A blush rose on his face, body going hot. Memories from last night flooded his head, and he glanced down at themselves, finding his body pressed against Dark's so nicely—his arms wrapped around him in a gentle embrace.

    Mark shifted in an attempt to wake the other up, the silk sheets sliding over their bodies and rustling softly. Dark's lashes fluttered, and his eyes opened carefully, going into focus. His eyes were so much brighter in the morning—a sharp and saturated blood red. It sent chills down Mark's spine.

    "Morning," said Mark softly. Dark blinked again before smiling, pressing a soft kiss to Mark's forehead.

    "Sleep well?" he said, pushing back a few stray hairs from Mark's face. Mark sat up and nodded, his back giving a sudden wave of soreness. His brows furrowed, and he pressed a hand on his lower back. Dark gave a chuckle of realization.

    "That happens after your first time," he said, sitting up as well. Mark blushed at that, and he glanced away, stomach lighting with butterflies when Dark rested a hand on his thigh.

    "I'll bring you breakfast," he said with a smile. "You rest for a bit."

    Mark nodded, unable to help but stare as Dark dressed himself.

    Despite getting to know him and having spent the night with him, intertwined, united persay, it was still so surreal to see him do such simple things. Dark was a High Evolved, after all—famed for his ways of collapsing entire organizations with mere whispers.

    His muscles rippled as he pulled on his shirt, hair a mess from sleeping.

    Mark, a mere human... was witnessing this.

    All that was left were his robes, and Mark watched with fascination as he clipped those tear-shaped clasps over his neck. The black fabric seemed to gain life again, fluttering elegantly at Dark's feet.

    "I won't be long," he said, pulling Mark out of his trance. Mark wearily nodded, and Dark left the room, leaving him alone.

    Mark took a deep breath and leaned against the headboard, gazing around the facets of the room. Despite having stayed the night in this very bedroom on multiple occasions, he hadn't fully taken in the details of the room.

    Everything spoke of age, of history, of elegance and class. The wallpapers adorning the walls were of deep oak tones, the designs threatening to pull one in if they stared for too long. There were also a few paintings—smaller than the ones in the halls—but bleeding with meaning. Two were of buildings—most likely the Evolved City—while the other was of a woman.

    He gazed at the painted woman's pale features, her black hair pulled up high in a sleek bun. A silver headpiece glittered through her hair, and a tear-shaped stone adorned the middle of her chest. Though her painted eyes stared into nothingness, the red of them popped out so unnaturally they seemed to be like lights poking through the canvas.

    Mark pulled his gaze from the paintings and up at the high ceiling, the crystal chandelier above glittering like moondrops under the milky sunlight. It was like a dream.

    He glanced over at the messy desk which was littered with papers and pens, but before he could suck up the pain and head over there, the door opened.

    "I hope you don't mind leftovers from last night," said Dark. He held a plate in his hand, shutting the door behind him. "Turns out Focaria did mind you cooked human in her pans."

    Mark smiled at that, taking the plate from Dark's hands. He rested it on his lap, the plate warm. Just staring at the cooked meat lightened his mood, and he lifted the fork from the plate and carved himself a bite.

    "It's Sunday today," breathed Mark, "isn't it."

    Dark sat at the edge of the bed, his light air dampening. He knew what Mark really meant, and he gave a soft sigh, nodding.

    "Four more days," he said quietly.

    Mark took a big bite and chewed, letting the acrid juice well on his tongue. Almost sour.

    "That's not enough time to train me," said Mark, shoveling another bite. Though he felt sick just talking about it, he knew he had to face the situation head on.

    Xilef's words rang in his head again.

    Turn your fear into fuel, came his sharp advice. Let anger be the barricade to your true identity.

    "Tell me," said Mark. "What's something any Evolved would know?"

    Dark hesitated, and he gazed aside, folding his hands in his lap. "That our abilities are what make us... better," he said, lips curling in distaste. Though he used to believe the statement, he no longer did. "All Evolveds find humans a waste of time. It's common knowledge to react little with them." He sighed. "The only ones who do are reckless teenagers."

    Mark hummed. "This is—a weird one, but... with Evolved teenagers, ahm—"

    His face went red, and Dark rose a finger with a chuckle, already knowing where he was going.

    "Yes, we have them, too. But instead of mere bodily changes, Evolveds teenagers also develop their abilities." He gazed at Mark with an amused smile. "As children, Evolveds don't have very many abilities—only hints of what they might develop."

    Mark nodded. "Is there... anyone else with your abilities?"

    Dark hummed at that. "It's very unlikely," he said. "That's why we're called High Evolveds. Our abilities, or powers, really, are much rarer."

    Mark took another bite, staring down at the half-eaten plate. That doubt began to claw at his throat again.

    "Do... do you think I'd really pass as an Evolved?" breathed Mark, his voice wavering. He spared a glance at Dark, meeting his bright red eyes.

    Dark went quiet at that. He pursed his lips for a moment before responding. "Not as a High Evolved," he said. He gave a sigh, shifting on the bed, his robes rustling over his body.

    "It's how you carry yourself," he said. "Rather than training your strength, we'll have to focus on your etiquettes. Boring, I know."

    Mark shook his head. "No, it's not," he said. "Not—really, anyway." He glanced over at Dark with a weary smile. "You know, even as a kid, I've always been fascinated with Evolveds. I wanted abilities myself—even if it was something as simple as being faster or... having night vision." He picked up his fork again and carved another bite of the meat, smiling as Dark's gaze burned on his skin.

    "I looked up to them. Looked up to—you..."

    Dark glanced aside when Mark said that, swallowing.

    "Then, you know..." Mark gave a sad chuckle, about to take a bite but pulling it away. "I grew up..." He set his fork down again. "I saw that... no matter how cool Evolveds were or—seemed... They didn't see us the same way."

    He stared at his plate, glancing at Dark through the corner of his eye. Dark seemed focused on the painting of the woman.

    "They saw us as something to be—"

    "Conquered," Dark interrupted. A muscle in his jaw twitched, and he tilted his chin up, gazing at the painted woman.

    "May the significant only receive the true attentions," he said under his breath, "and the side characters little mind." His face hardened. "That's what my mother used to say."

    Mark followed his gaze, staring at the painting. Now that Dark was here, he could see the resemblance—the pale, greyed features, the jet black hair, and those startling, bright-red eyes.

    "I've done terrible things as a young upstart," Dark said. "But what my mother didn't realize is that power is such a... trivial thing." His eyes narrowed as he spoke. "Too little power, and you suffer. Too much, and you fall under the weight of it all. Excess on either end makes one drown."

    He tore his gaze from the painting and focused on Mark. "What you were saying—about Evolveds... it's all true." He scooted closer and gently took Mark's hand in his own, running his thumb over the knuckles. Mark shuddered at the touch and blushed.

    "We're blinded by what we have," he said. "And instead of helping others with our gifts, or improving the world, we... we let them tear down the 'weak...' We gloat and put ourselves on pedestals when really... we deserve nothing but punishment for the dreadful mark we've put on the world."

    He lifted his gaze, meeting Mark's gaze.

    "Once you and I started getting close, I realized how wrong our beliefs are—how our system is." He brought Mark's hand up and softly kissed it. "I know I'm still sending you to Antinstine... but while you're there, I promise—I swear on my life—that I'll find change for both Evolveds and humans alike."

    Mark set his plate aside and shifted so he could face Dark, the sheets still covering him. He took both of Dark's hands and held them, squeezing gently.

    "Will I really kill him?" he whispered, staring at the distance between their bodies. Dark's chest lightly rose and fell as he sighed.

    "Antinstine will die," said Dark. "Cibil, the foreseer..." His brows furrowed. "Despite being on his side, she showed me his blood on the floor..."

    Mark swallowed. "But you have a plan, right?"

    Dark smiled and nodded. "Of course," he said, eyes taking in Mark's figure. "Think of yourself as our spy for now. If you get close enough to Antinstine, you can collect information on him. We'll find a way to communicate in time."

    Mark took a deep breath and nodded. He glanced back at Dark's desk, smiling to cover up his nervousness.

    "Those articles on your desk," he said, pretending he'd never seen them. "Can I read them? To get more information on Antinstine."

    "Go ahead," said Dark with a smile. "I suggest you put some clothes on first, though."

    Mark blushed, and as he got dressed, Dark spoke again.

    "Tonight, when we have dinner," he said, "would you like to start training again?"

    Mark gave a weary smile. That's right... if he hadn't tried to run away, they'd have a month left of training. But he also wouldn't have been this close to Dark.

    "Just you and me?" he asked, and Dark nodded, watching as Mark, now fully-dressed, walked over to his desk littered with papers filled with information.

    "Just you and me," he said.

Thank you so much for reading, and have a wonderful day!

Love you all, and stay safe out there,

Kassian xoxo