There was a thick wad of degradation in her new position.
Amber was once a revered substitute that stole their limelight and made them a million times better. And God, her soulmates secretly abhorred her for it. She could see the stink of self-doubt in their awkward re-entry upon stage. The twinge of irritation in their eyes when they had to watch her excel in ways they could not.
The body exchange was not truly a boon. Why would it be when it reminded them of their inadequacies and her prowess?
But the hybrid soul bond? This they relished like tart lemonade to drying lips and a parched tongue; like food for a starving soul; and the sun to chilled skin. They savoured it with open arms, embraced the sudden necessity to fuck with excitement and too much joy.
Because it was always a dream—to be pumped so full of adrenaline after a heart pounding performance that they had to head backstage to expel it all.
For the daring ones in the team, Amber knew that they took pleasure in the issues they now faced. The growing hardness between their legs that they had to hide behind cheery laughter and well-placed hands. The torturous pleasure that escalated as they begged for a set to end so that they could return to their soulmate's waiting arms. It was exhibitionism like no other.
It was fucked up kinky shit that they'd never dared suggest.
Undeniably, it had been her fantasy too—to be fucked behind the curtains, dampened panties to her ankles, suckling pussy stretched by a thick thrusting cock. The ice of air-conditioning cold on her skin, its chill fighting the heat of their activity. The stammered breaths and intimate exchanges to the roaring noise of a cheering crowd.
And in the swallowing darkness what remained was not the black of empty pupils, but stars imbued upon their dripping lust, combined.
Her soulmate was crushing her against the wall, her wrists collected in a wide hand. Her arms were tugged back. And his pretty fingers were feathering up her hairline and then wrapping around her throat. A sloppy kiss was placed on her exposed back, a shiver leading to a small little chuckle.
A pull, and her head was tossed back for his greater access. Her arms tight behind her, naked breast pushed out—nipples hard in the cold and standing. And his scent, glorious musky vanilla in its all-encompassing molten heat, engulfed her in its wet, passionate, vibrant glory.
She could smell his sex in the air, dripping between his thighs, mixed with the sweetness of hers.
JieMi was dressed darker than usual, decked in leather top to toe, a biker's wet dream with coal lined lids, and sweat soaked curls. But always with the most baby of eyes—wide, watery and honeyed, until they narrowed with a wicked smile. And that would then lead to the grind his cock deeper into spaces inside her that made her shiver and jerk.
"It's fucked up that you can't cum," was his first heated whisper down her throat, feverish over her pulse. He breathed heavily, smelled like too many good things. And her eyes fluttered in the darkness unable to see anything aside from the occasional shards of shattering laser from the stage that would illuminate his godly figure. "Because I know exactly how to make you cum."
His hands were silky down her spine, groping at the swell of her ass. Her walls were spreading, burning around the growing thickness of his throbbing cock, velvety and apologetic as it brushed kisses against her best spots. He went in too fast, too quick and it hurt but in a good way. And she whined, toes clenching. Her voice was hoarse when it spilled from her lips. "You didn't bother preparing me."
"Do we even have the time?" She could hear his grin in his voice, the cheery sing of it, warm with his singing.
"Fucker," she hissed, and he only pressed a wet kiss to her throat.
"I don't need to because you're so fucking wet." There was a giggle from her demon, a wet noisy shove with the upwards slam of his sculpted abdomen as he fucked her where air could enter, and her pussy could sing. He liked the sounds, JieMi was fucked up like that, enjoyed queefs like a man with his squeaky toy. "God, are you squirting? You're making such a big mess, it's like a waterfall!"
"I'm not," she hissed. "It's all that lube and MinJae's spit down my thighs—"
"Liar," he said, teasing lilt to his voice so controlled it wouldn't seem as if he were fucking her. He had that sort of power over his voice that she didn't. And he could sing in perfect keys even through the best of orgasms. It was proven and tested, and JieMi called it his favourite vocal lesson. "Don't smell the strawberry, all I smell is your wet, sexy cunt."
His mouth found hers; tongue hot and insatiable against hers. He sought her breath, laughing when she parted from his lips with a lewd 'pop', gasping for oxygen. He merely swooped in deeper, stealing her lips with his own godly breath control and stamina.
The stylist wouldn't like that JieMi had rid himself off the jeans around his waist. He had it hanging at his ankles, sloppy and crumpled around his boots. He should have simply pulled himself out of the unzipped opening and fucked her nice and tight just so he could move on quickly to makeup. But there was no way in hell JieMi would treat sex like a quick piss in the bucket.
And he had always openly declared his dislike for pubes snagged around the teeth of metal, and the constraint of clothes that hugged the meat of his thighs. They held back the parting of his leg to gain greater, deeper access to her swollen centre. And JieMi would always enjoy the wet smack of her hot juices running down his flesh.
JieMi groaned, wanton and lewd as he pounded into her with long deep strokes. "You'd ruin my pants if I had them on, you're so wet it'll look as if I pissed myself."
"Oh, please, you're doing it on purpose," she scowled, "I can feel you messing your pubes all over my ass."
"I like how it feel." Her eyes slid to the juicy pout on his lip. "And it gives Minnie all the time in the world to suck your little clit." She cried out then, muffled it as they both took the chance to show her exactly what they meant. JieMi slamming himself so deep her body was jerked into the waiting mouth of her MinJae.
MinJae didn't care whether or not he'd have to run onto stage, sweaty, swollen-lipped and looking like a man who'd just eaten pussy. And Amber knew he wanted that to happen. Because with ten minutes to his song, MinJae was still on his knees, fucking his fist like a man possessed, tongue out to catch her clit.
With each thrust, her hips would shove forwards into his waiting mouth. And his tongue would stick out, flat for her to grind. Occasionally he'd kiss the nub of her pleasure. Other times, he'd catch it between the plumpest of lips, suckle for as long as he could. And then relinquish it with a 'pop' as her hips were forced back by JieMi's massive thrusts, his cock dislodging from her body.
It was a tag team, see-saw like situation. And Amber was bookended both ways by men determined to torture her towards a rising orgasm.
And God, MinJae loved it when her clit rubbed against the plump of his lips, she could see it in the cross eye of his vision. The dazed look that flooded his face when he was used like a slut. The little naughty sigh of pleasure when her hips shook, and his new dual cocks spewed another sticky strand of pre-cum all over his ringed hands.
He was in a more dangerous situation. For his clothes were white with pearls, and layered with shimmery translucent chiffon that should billow and sweep around his half-naked body, flowing like fabric in water. But with the sweat sticking now to each growingly transparent layer, she knew he was going to be in a lot of trouble if he stayed on his knees, pink cheeked and panting.
And it was rare that they fucked her while looking so pretty. They were both dressed like a star, decked in jewellery and glitter. Hair styled into the fluffiest of coiffures; blemishes hidden behind concealers; undereye lined with gemstones and glitter; and lips juicy with gloss and cum.
Of course, it was nice to see them fresh faced and bare.
But Amber treasured the times when they fucked her looking like the devil's incarnate, and hotter than sin. It was fun to fuck them when they were sculpted for the beauty standards of the world and set up like products meant for display. Only to have their hair ruined between her thighs and their makeup melting with her juices.
But MinJae had to look at the very least, moderately clean.
"MinJae, get up." This time she had something to say, hands in his hair. "You've got one more minute to cum." He pouted; hands clasped around her knees keeping her in place. He licked quickly, tip dancing over her hooded clit, like a kitten. Behind her, JieMi hissed at the restrain, fucking her upwards instead of forwards instead, her toes flying off the ground. "Do you really want to go up there with two leaking dicks?"
"Urgh, do I have to?" MinJae whined, struggling to stand. But she knew it was all for show, he enjoyed being a brat. And she slapped his jiggling ass, turning him over as she did. He was splayed against the wall, hands out to brace himself. "This is the most fun I've ever had at a concert. My heart is fucking pounding." He giggled. "It's a setting for porn."
"Me too," JieMi piped out from behind her, already taking MinJae's prior job to circle her clit with annoyingly skilled fingers. Her body clenched around his cock, and he shivered, letting loose a loud moan on her skin. "It's exciting."
"And the stakes are so fucking high," MinJae said, eyes growing round and hands splayed over the beams. "I'll have to have a sweater around my hips if I lose, or whatever they have on the rack that makes sense to cover my ginormous dick. Either way, everyone will know I've got a solid cock in my pants if I go on stage with this monster. It's a win, win."
JieMi laughed. "Your bulge will trend for weeks."
Amber scowled. "And I'm not letting that happen, dumbasses." She hissed, tugging a condom onto her fingers, lube soaked on each digit. Her hands were already around the heavy droop of his two shafts, the other stroking his balls, thumb rubbing against the frenulum of both. He wailed, hips shaking as she rubbed. "I've got responsibilities," she warned them, leaned against MinJae's back and he bent lower providing her greater access. "And I will excel at them because I am a perfectionist, and I won't let my soulmates leave without an orgasm."
"You can try," MinJae teased with a naughty grin, turning back to look. "I'm not going to cum. Your poor, darling little soulmate will have to try to dance and hide his fat cocks on stage." She slapped his ass and he squealed, fingers delving immediately to his asshole. He squealed, eyes growing round as her fingers hammered against the sensitive swollen growth. "OH, you're good who taught you that?"
"You trained me to finger assholes on your prostate."
"Oh fuck, I did," he agreed with a wail, eyes growing teary.
He was close, and she knew it from the way his fingers curled around her wrist, digging her deeper into himself. He came faster with two cocks. His pelvis rolling forward, shaking as if possessed and she took the chance to wrap her hands around his cocks, allowing him to fuck her fist. A garbled moan escaped his curse ridden speech.
"You've got an amazing teacher, fuck! He's too good at this. How the fuck are you doing that. Oh! Ngaah! T-That's amazing do that again please. FUCK!"
And oh, she did with a wicked smile. Her fingers drummed against his prostate, until he was clenching at her wrist and digging her fingers deeper into his ass. He was on the ride of his life, and she was determined he left her weak-kneed and ready to sing.
He swayed, and his pre-cum splattered over his shoes. She cursed. Behind her JieMi's fingers grew tighter around her hips, clearly irritated by her lack of interest. His next thrust had her breath catching in her throat, but she couldn't let him stop her from getting MinJae out of her stall.
She cursed at him, scowling at the pearly liquid smeared over his expensive loafers. "Dude, you got it on your shoes!"
His tongue snagged out to lick his lips, panting hard with a smirk that made his narrowed eyes pretty. "I won't get if you suck on the head. Please? Baby, please? I just wanna feel your gullet closing around both of my dicks—" She raised a brow, watched as she gave him one last push, middle finger digging into his prostate. And his orgasm flooded him the waves of it catching him in its unforgiving swell.
"F-fuck, fuck I'm cumming. S-shit. No. No. I can't not now—"His hips jerked, balls growing taut and hips shivering against her. The entire time, he was wailing his dismay, horrified by his inability to stop. "Noooo!"
He came with a scream.
MinJae spewed, runny bountiful ropes of pre-cum that she caught them all in her fist, wads of tissue to the head because she just couldn't get his clothes crusty. He was fucking himself into her hands with wild abandon, teeth grinding, eyes hard. He gave her a scowl. "Damn it."
"I might be your new cum dump, but I'm still your girlfriend," she reminded him, rubbing his ass one last time. Her pussy squeezed, milking JieMi harder.
"Cum dump," JieMi stated. He hoisted her up now that she was freed from her prostate milking tasks, bouncing her on his cock. "We have a cum dump behind stage."
MinJae sighed, dabbing himself with a tissue. "Fuck!" The messy wad of it was chucked into the piss bucket, now filled with condoms and semen soaked paper. He pulled his pants up with a scowl. Outside, their manager called his name and he stood, brushing his hair back. "You'll suck Liv off, but not me?"
"It depends on the mood," was her hummed answer. "I feel a little used, and sad beside the piss bucket, but you've got to go. That includes you JieMi."
Her soulmate only plunged deeper, harder, a beast searching for pleasure and completion. He was hissing in her hair, tortured as his fingers dug tighter. His stubbornness was set in the knit of his brow. "No."
Amber rolled her eyes, giving him a sultry smile. "Fuck, JieMi. That feels so fucking good, you're gonna fill me up so good with your cum." A well-tailored moan seemed enough for him, breathy and wet. And his pleasure peaked in flexing thighs and messy thrusts, sloppy kisses raining down her skin.
"Not fucking fair," was his angry hiss. His thumbs digging against her belly, the climax waiting to rush through, his hips blurring into a flash of thrusts. His body was strung high, waiting for the release that it needed. "You c-can't say that and expect me not to—"
"You're gonna dirty me so fucking good, gonna make cum so hard on your fat fucking dick."
"F-fuck, yes," he groaned against her throat, climax rushing through.
The eroticism of it all had him splashing his contents into the condom, twitching with his eyes rolled back and mouth open. His body was spasming against hers, his bliss so godly it had her clit twitching in answer, swaying towards a quickened orgasm. That he almost allowed her, with his fingers trailing down her pubic hair to toy with her swollen clit. He exhaled, rosy cheek, eyes shadowy but glistening.
"Could make you cum, can you feel that? You're squeezing me so tight; I know you. I know you from head to toe. And you're going to cum so hard—"
"No!" she wailed, as he strummed. "N-no—"
"That's right," Casper snapped coming up from behind, her boys trailing by his side sweaty and warm from a song. He seemed to catch JieMi by his collar, pulling him back. His cock fell, dislodged from her heavy between his thighs. They slapped against his skin. "Good—"
Her sweaty fingers were slapped against his lips, horror brimming in her throat. A finger to the open mic attached to his belt had them all going quiet in shuddering silence. She snapped it close, the green turning red. And Ezra picked it from her hands with a growl. The mood was gone and in its wake was fear.
He stormed out, expression impossibly dark. "Be careful man," he shouted back, "you'll give them a show. And the reporters a fucking field day."
"I can't believe you," Hikaru placed his hands on his cheeks. "For the love of God!" Oliver only sighed, shaking his head. And Sieon snorted, a smirk on his lips.
"Sorry," Casper laughed, rubbed the back of his neck. His arms were around her, inspecting her, wiping sweat from her brow. "Boys treating you well?" She rolled her eyes.
"No orgasms yet, sir."
"Tonight," he promised, eyes flashing. "You'll enjoy it best with me. You know that."
*
There were enemies to be made in her moments of depravity.
It was rare for Amber to be lurking in the open as she did for the week. But she had to use the public bathrooms, had to clean herself up. And there were moments when she'd enter looking wet, sticky and well-fucked, paths crossing with staff—mostly female.
Amber hadn't paid them no heed, mostly because she trusted them as long-time workers for her soulmates. She'd experienced firsthand their kindness when she had been in her soulmates' bodies. Plus, if one didn't know better, she'd pass for a very sweaty dancer.
But eventually the whispers began, the rumours spreading, nasty and evil. There had to be someone to blame for the time her soulmates spent out of the makeup rooms, and the time they wasted after a song. And somehow, they knew it was her.
Their disapproval was open in the hot stares of hostility. It began as laughter outside the cubicles, as she peed to prevent the infection. With panties around her knees, she caught their words that sent her hot and cold.
"They took so long to get to makeup and hair! Fucking shit."
"It's that girl's fault. The one that they hang out around. She's so fucking ugly and fat, what do they see in her?"
"Wish I knew, she's so lazy all the time. Just hanging around. We actually have a fucking job, y'know? We don't have time to be waiting for a groupie—"
Her lips twisted, downturned. Her existence as their soulmate was acknowledged but continuously hidden. They paid good money for her privacy, and while her face had appeared in the live stream, that too had been of low quality and paid off to have as much of it taken down from the internet.
It helped that fans did not truly want to acknowledge her existence and continued to stay deep within their delusions. They wanted their fantasies, and Amber wasn't going to be there to stop them.
But for staff, she'd assumed that they knew to some degree of her existence.
Her younger self might stay in the bathroom, waiting for them to speak their mind before she left. But she exited the cubicle loudly, moving to wash her hands. They grew silent immediately and her eyes swept to their faces.
The girls stood by her side, looking surprised, their eyes snapping to hers. There was the briefest moment of embarrassment before it vanished with a cold almost haughty gaze. A sniff, and it was all she needed to know that they looked down on her existence.
These girls were familiar, young makeup artists that spent hours touching her soulmates' faces and working on them in their sleep. They were nicer when she was in the bodies of her boys. Were the sort of girls that smiled and greeted warmly. They'd hand her soulmates' treats, would chide them like older sisters.
Amber liked them.
But they started to smile, eyes angry and cold. A strange glint of recognition in their eyes. A smirk and a laugh, had them turning away to giggle to each other. Her gut swayed; something was off about the confidence in their eyes. They knew her. They must. They were proud that she heard them speak, and she could see it in their eyes.
"Hey," one of the girls snapped, with a grin. "Don't slack off. Go clean the bathrooms or something. We've got wardrobe in five."
"Yeah," the other scoffed, checked her nails. "What are you doing in the bathroom? I see you lurking around all the time. We've got places to be. The boys don't have time to sign your fucking autographs. And take all your pictures. We've all got a job, and you're in the way—"
"I'm their soulmate," she answered with a well-trained smile, she smoothed her hair back with wet hands. Her cat ears hidden behind her hair. Then turned to face them. "Thank you for trying your best with work. But we have a medical problem which I'm sure you've been briefed on. I'm here to support them as their girlfriend."
The girls exchanged glances, raised brows. But instead of frightened bows or confused statements about her 'lies'. They reacted with a mocking laugh; brows furrowed. A smile on their lips. This had Amber's blood growing cold.
What the fuck was wrong with them?
"Just a girlfriend?" the makeup artist beamed, a strange look in her eyes. "You're not engaged?" The smirk was calculative, bitter, almost a little jealous, but slightly relieved. And Amber was reminded of someone else. Her breath caught in her throat.
"Excuse me?" she blurted out, blinking wildly. The anger surged.
"We understand." There was a coy shift in their gaze, looks exchanged. They whispered into each other's ears. Inside, Amber's guts churned. "We apologise." They left with wide smiles, their voices in the wind, muffled behind the swinging door
And Amber caught the last word of it with a scowl. 'They say she's soulmates to all seven. Do you believe it?' There was a final laugh. 'Whore.' She stood at the sink eyes narrowing, oddness in her belly. Her eyes danced to the door, she could charge through and create a scene but—Amber sighed, pulled out her phone. She noted them down, sent a quick text to their manager.
They should be gone before the day ended.
*
The encounter left her uneasy. And Amber couldn't wait to see her boys, not with the strangeness of something wrong spinning in the air. But she wouldn't let it destroy their night. And she'd tell them about it at a good time, after she was well-fucked and ready.
Encore began, and Amber found herself leaving the safety of her space backstage. A staff tag wrapped around her neck, security by her side she exited her spot and moved to a nook by the front of the stage, pressed tight against the metal fencing, cloaked by large speakers. The fans did not notice her, not with the mask on, security on her throat. But her soulmates would, with her body pressed to the edge of the stage.
But she stood at the edge of the stage waiting, smiling, knowing that they would be so mad from her appearance. The fans screamed, louder, more frantic. They weren't the polite yells of sound; no, these were hungry and greedy, begging for more. And Amber stared at the gold of body heat and powdered light, at the purest of energy that vibrated from an audience that adored.
And then her soulmates entered like fallen angels, like godly beings. They rose from beneath the stage, circled out to sing. It was different to stand in the crowd and watch, her body swaying to the beat. Years ago, this was how she met them.
This was the beginning of their love story.
Sexy music purred from the speakers by her side, drowning out her thoughts to a drumming beat But she didn't care, couldn't breathe as the world seemed to grow quieter, entranced by the beauty of her seven. The ripple of their bodies as they danced and moved with the fluidity of satins and silk.
Her laughter bubbled through her throat as her soulmates toyed with the hems of their clothes. Her JieMi revealed his abs, mouthwatering and yet she found herself with her cheeks pink and just as winded. Her body sinking into its wet, heady space of need. The cat of her soul bond purring.
And then Oliver froze before her, stuttered to a stop as his eyes caught hers, his body gravitating towards her naturally. And she noted the swell of his cock. The twitch of his ears behind his hat. His tail, long hairy and whispering as it jiggled in the length of his pants. He sniffed, ran away, horrified, almost desperate.
And then he was gesturing, and discretely pointing and the rest were eyeing her. Ezra smirked. JieMi laughed. MinJae was giggling. Sieon waggled his brows. And the four seemed to grow only sexier, seductive as their flaccid cocks grew into semis that they now had to try to hide. Hikaru was shaking his head, sitting down to conceal his bulging length. And Casper was glowering through his smiles. They feigned exhaustion, collectively choosing to sit down for the last of their ballad that had her laughing.
"Once again," Casper called, choosing to bow on his knees to hide his growing bulge. Oh, she was in a lot of trouble. "We are IDOL, and we thank you all for attending."
Her phone thrummed, the screen flashing.
Her nanny had arrived with her daughter, ready to meet her parents backstage. And her baby's location pulsated on the screen, a function that the woman had offered to quell her anxieties. It was nice to be able to see exactly where her child was with a tag around her legs. And Amber could see her child moving about in the holding rooms backstage, no doubt rocked by the nanny.
It was time to go back inside, her phone rang, and she raised it to her ear. "Hello? Oh! Hi! Thanks for taking care of her. The show's ending soon. I'll come over right now." Her lips moved, already cooing as her daughter's babbles echoed from the speaker. "Hi baby, how was your day? Mommy's almost there."
Oliver continued; his voice cheery. "Stay safe, and good night!"
Her baby was complaining, small little sobs that had her heart breaking. "I know, I know. It's not fun without mommy and daddies. I will come find you right now—"
It was then when the explosion came, knocking the world back.
*
She couldn't remember falling, but she found herself on her knees, flesh scrapped and bleeding. Gravity seemed to give way, and then there was heat and debris. Her ears were truly ringing, and her vision blurred as she stumbled. Someone tried to get her to stand, security that seemed just as terrified. She blinked, horrified at the flames that engulfed the stage. A wildfire of gas and heat. Her heart to her throat.
Horror.
"Shit," she cursed, smoke scorching her throat. "Fuck…" Her eyes swept to her boys, they were startled but moving on stage, scrambling to get away. She counted them all, then paused her mind jumping straight to the child. "Rumiko." Fear flooded her, salty and thick in her throat. Her pulse raised. No.
The location blinked on her phone, continued to stutter. God, her baby. Her baby was right smack centre in the fire. Her eyes were blurry, but there was no time to cry for her feet was moving, darting over the wires, ignoring the screams of security. But desperation triumphed, adrenaline pumping her veins.
Backstage, the curtains were on fire, insulation and wires spitting from the beams. There were people running about them, maniacal as they tried to escape the smoke, but she found her feet moving. Her fingers, clutched her phone as her mind spun. Heat roared in her face, as she caught her balance in the smoke and the broken beams. She was squinting, eyes darting to her phone and then forward.
The walls swayed, flames leaking free. God where the fuck was the baby? And she was praying, praying that the location was right. And it wasn't just her fucking broken GPS—The softest of wails had her crouched, blinded by oily clouds. She choked and gagged, her phone was hot in her hands, but the display remained clear. Her hands scooping through the smoke, searching for a way through.
"Amber! AMBER!" Someone screamed, he caught her arm.
Oliver with his soul bond spinning over his head like a beacon of light, it was back and vibrant with its displeasure. It screamed at her his rage, and it must be how he'd managed to find her. His grip was tight on her arm, bruising as he pulled her away.
"It's not safe!" A spluttering cough erupted from his throat.
"Rumiko's in there!" she was sobbing, her body heaving at the sound of someone she loved. Floodgates giving way, and there were tears in her eyes. "Can't you hear her? Look, l-look her location. She's in there! I'm going to get her. I've got to!" The floor seared her palm, pain blossoming with the blisters. Fire crackled. He met her eyes, they seemed to glow in the flames.
"I'll get her!" he yelled, hands in hers, taking her phone, and then he was gone.
And she was flying back. Her body scooped into someone's arms, someone who seemed determined to get her out, for he was running flying over the distance she had covered. Her senses returned as fresh air flooded her nose. Sieon held her in his arms, panting covered in soot and ash.
He'd found her in the debris with just their red string of fate, and had followed it madly into danger just to save her. And she knew he'd tugged at it with his hands wrapped in the phantom strings, the threads winding around his palm.
"Why the fuck did you run back in? You stupid girl!" He was mad, spitting mad. The fear quickly consumed the rage, and he held her to his chest, tightly almost as if he could not let go. "Let the professionals do their fucking job! Don't just run into the fucking fire! For fuck's sake!"
"S-Sieon," her voice was cracking. And there were tears, tears in her eyes that blurred her vision. "My phone was tracking her location. Oliver went to get her. Oliver—He's still in there. We need to go back for them. We need to—"
Her gut spun, tugged at her throat, and she craned her neck to look back. And there they were Oliver with his arms around their daughter, running towards them in a sea of fire. The nanny by his side. Their eyes locked. A moment the briefest. A child's cry, the smallest of smiles on her soulmates' lips.
A beam cracked; a fire roared.
They disappeared behind a wall of blinding flames.
A/N: Happy New Year, thank you for the support and love<3
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