CAIRO, EGYPT
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The intense heat from the city of Cairo boiled down on (Y/N)'s skin, though she was already accustomed to the extreme weather ever since she was young, knowing how to handle it was always a difficult task.

Her and Layla were patiently walking through the several stands of food and drinks placed along the street while trying to deal with the radiant heat. After several attempts of convincing, Layla forced (Y/N) to buy drinks for themselves while they figured what to do next.

"You all right?" Layla asked after hesitating for a few seconds, she'd noticed how (Y/N) wasn't in her best mood after visiting Lagaro, and she wanted to know why. "You look exhausted."

"It's fine," (Y/N) took a sip from her drink and tried to fan herself with her hand. "Don't worry."

Layla hummed in response but didn't buy it, but she didn't want to insist until another thought came to her head. "But do you feel okay? Are you dizzy? Did you take your pill today? When was the last time — "

"Layla," (Y/N) raised her hands to make her pause and her tone was laced with a small laugh. "I'm fine. You're starting to sound like my mother, and that's not something good."

Layla nodded but she winced internally at the mention of her friend's mother. Layla knew it was a sore spot for (Y/N) and it probably looked like she was overreacting, but the overprotective instinct got over. It's been like this ever since they were young, after Layla found out about (Y/N)'s strange illness, she had promised she'd make sure she always safe.

"Sorry," Layla said as she played with the straw of her drink. "Opened an old wound, didn't I?"

"You don't have to apologize," (Y/N) explained. "The talk back with Lagaro was the trigger."

"I get it. It was hard for me too," Layla took a sip from the drink. "But I wasn't going to let it bother me, it happened a long time ago."

(Y/N) took in her words and was about to utter a response, when she heard a vendor yelling out in Arabic and spotted the strangely familiar male figure walking over to the said vendor. Layla followed her line of sight and she squinted her vision to get a better look.

"Is that — ?" Layla began.

"It is," (Y/N) quieted her doubt. "Looks like we found him after all."

They walked across the street to approach the other line of stands and vendors around the area, where Marc was trying to blend in supposedly but all he wore was a black cap to hid his face. (Y/N) resisted the urge to let out a laugh.

"I hope you like attention," Layla spoke up first and offered him a slick smirk, sipping from her drink, her curls falling to frame her face.

"You really thought a single cap was going to be a good enough disguise? Seriously?" (Y/N) leaned on Layla's shoulder while offering a grin of her own.

In other circumstances, he would've looked down at his feet because of the grin in her lips, but all Marc did was roll his eyes and the annoyance wrote itself all over his face, his jaw clenched shut in frustration. All he wanted was to have (Y/N) away from danger and all she did was jump right in.

"Right guy, right place," Layla continued. "But you're not Egyptian."

"What the hell are you two doing here? You shouldn't be here," Marc decided to ignore her words and questioned the two women instead.

"Why? Because Layla's name pisses off a few people in Cairo? Or 'cause hearing my name makes people give me looks of fear and pity?" (Y/N) tilted her head to the side with fake curiosity. "I don't care anymore."

"It's not the locals that I'm worried about." His eyes were set somewhere else on the buildings behind her, guilt washing his face before he shook the feeling off as soon as it came.

"Come with us. We'll help you find what you need," Layla offered.

Marc scoffed incredulously. What? So you're finally offering to help me? After years?"

"I wouldn't make it a habit, Spector," Layla crossed her arms and gave (Y/N) a side glance. "I'm only doing this because (Y/N) over here convinced me to."

A huff escaped from Marc's lips and Layla didn't seem as much thrilled, but (Y/N) offered one of her famous smiles and chuckled at the sight of her two friends in front of her.

"Finally, it was time for another aventure."

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Night arrived in the city quickly, and the trio found themselves sitting in the edge of a tourist boat that would take them to a place that was unknown by Marc. He had explained the meeting with the Gods inside the Pyramid of Giza, and how he was told to find a sarcophagus that will have a clue to Ammit's tomb.

"So what exactly are we gonna do here? What's the plan?" Marc questioned.

"Oh," (Y/N) pretended to be shocked and leaned forward. "It doesn't feel nice being left in the dark, does it?"

"Okay," Marc dropped his head and took a deep breath. "I get that you're not happy about me leaving so quickly and coming to Cairo. I understand."

(Y/N) slowly nodded, but she didn't want to give him the satisfaction. "Wait. That's all? That's what you call an apology? Because if it is, then that's something you need to work at."

Layla, who was sat by (Y/N)'s side in the boat, seemed to be enjoying their quarrel since she watched them with an interested look.

"Just so we can get through tonight, maybe let's just give our shit a rest for a moment and just try to strategize before we get to — "

"Mogart's?" Layla cut in, a smug smirk forming in her lips after noticing the annoyance it gave him.

Marc frowned at the name. "Mogart?"

"Just so we're clear, I'm not here to help you," Layla replied. "I'm here for me and (Y/N) and for everyone else who would die if Harrow succeeds."

"Copy that."

"Good."

Once she cleared her thoughts with Marc, Layla stood up from her seat and  excused herself from the duo since she perfectly knew that Marc and (Y/N) needed space in the moment. She gave (Y/N) a subtle wink her way before she walked away to the other side of the boat, and Marc was silently thanking Layla for giving them time to talk.

"I am sorry," he said, his eyes softening once they were back on (Y/N)'s figure. "For whatever that's worth."

Silence filled with the two of them until Marc decided to speak again. "So, this Mogart guy. He's really gonna have his sarcophagus?"

"Yes," (Y/N) played with her fingers. " I made sure of it. Mogart's collection is prime gossip for those who deal with antiquities."

The loud sound of a song placing on the speakers of the boat drew Marc and (Y/N)'s attention away from their conversation, seeing how a woman was dancing with someone else to the music while Layla was watching from a corner.

Marc looked back at (Y/N). "I haven't heard that song since. . ."

"Come on, you can say it," (Y/N) encouraged, a laugh threatening to fall from her lips once she spotted the flushed look in his eyes. "Say it."

"Since. . .you took me out to dance one night."

"There it is," (Y/N) grinned in satisfaction, and then she shrugged her shoulders. "I had to do it. You were a boring guy, I wanted you to have fun."

Marc hummed and his gaze went down to the floor since he wanted to avoid looking at (Y/N) in the eye. Every time he did, Marc couldn't stop himself from getting lost in her eyes or get distracted by the way the purple and blue light shined on her skin beautifully.

"You could've told me. You know?" (Y/N) spoke again, this time in a serious tone. "What's it's been like for you. About Steven."

Marc lifted his head and stared behind her shoulder. "For what it's worth, I had it under control until very recently."

This made (Y/N)'s eyebrows furrow at the unreadable expression in his eyes. "What happened?"

Marc shook his head dismissively, as if it wasn't a big deal. "Doesn't matter," his voice cracked.

(Y/N)'s eyes were filled with worry and she didn't know what to say since her throat felt dry. She leaned forward on her elbows to place her hands on top of Marc's calloused ones.

"We could've handled it together," she lowered her voice for him to hear it only.

"Yeah," Marc croaked out. "That's not really what I do, is it? Never really been able to just talk about everything."

"Anything real?" (Y/N) tried her best to make him lock his brown eyes with hers, but he was deeply focused on fidgeting his interlocked fingers with hers instead.

"Yes."

"Yeah, I know. But that doesn't mean that we shouldn't have," (Y/N) muttered. "I'm your friend, and we are here for each other."

"Yeah. Maybe," He stood up straight and removed his hands from (Y/N)'s awkwardly, pretending like nothing happened. "A little too late for that now, though."

(Y/N) pretended to act like his actions didn't hurt her at all, and decided to move her gaze to the water all around the boat. They were quickly arriving to their destination, and the last thing she needed right now was for her feelings to be a distraction.

when she falls first but he falls harder>>>

honestly, i was really looking forward to this chapter ever since the book started.

- see you soon, bex