"Are you an idiot?"
Mark looked down at the woman before him. Her head was resting on the bar, clutched in throbbing pain. Silky caramel hair was sprawled across the counter as she writhed in agony.
The woman was hammered.
No, that won't do her justice. She was utterly intoxicated. It seemed as if a war was taking place in that head- tremors from the conflict reverberating in her skull as she trembled.
Not even an unhinged lunatic would have burned through as much alcohol as she did.
The worst part was her expression as she did so, full of fervent determination- as if her life was hanging on each glass.
He thought for a moment, trying to remember her name.
"Err- Caitlyn?"
She slowly looked up, her peach-colored eyes placidly hiding a world of torment.
"Yeh?"
"Are you trying to kill yourself? I really don't want to be blamed for your stupidity. So, if you are going to die then make sure you do it somewhere else!"
"Haha-ugh"
Pain flashed across the delicate face as she rested on the counter once more. Even a mere laugh was painful.
'How has she not thrown up yet?'
Mark instilled a sense of serenity while massaging Caitlyn's shoulder. Thankfully nobody else was in the room, or else people would think he was taking advantage of a helpless maiden.
Though she still seemed to be in pain, her body gradually loosened up and stopped trembling.
She reached into her pocket and took out a few coins. They shone in the candlelight as she tried to hand them to Mark.
"One more."
He looked at her in the eyes. The two peach pearls glistened with a profound resolve.
'She's lost it!'
With a sigh, he looked at the door. Royce had left a long time ago, the city was in curfew.
He had to light some candles to continue serving the obnoxious woman. Wax rolled onto the table and had already begun to accumulate in pools. On top of the wicks, flames danced in the darkness.
The radiant glow must have inspired him, as a sense of resolution illuminated his pale-black eyes.
"No."
Mark took her fair hand and curled it up, covering the coins and returning them.
"It's time to go."
She sighed and returned the money to her pocket.
"Fine."
After that, she rose and started wobbling to the door. Mark scrubbed the wax off the counter and extinguished the flames. The room went dark.
In the pitch-black bar, a profound silence ensued.
Yet the brief tranquility was abruptly broken.
A crash resounded through the room.
'Damn it!'
He groped through the darkness and stopped before the place where he heard the sound. The faint outlines of a body were discernable on the floor.
"You're still alive, right?"
There was no response. Shock jolted Mark into action as he scrambled next to the unconscious silhouette. He grabbed her wrist and put two fingers on the major artery.
Relief blossomed in his heart as he felt a weak, yet present pulse in the brunette. After grabbing a chair and sitting her down in it, he grabbed a candle and lit it, putting it on the nearby table.
He waited, got up, walked around the bar, sat back down, and continued to wait. Then repeated the aforementioned process.
'I'm going to lose my mind!'
As the impatient young man tried to distract himself from boredom, the brunette eventually awakened.
She hesitated before making any movement or word. Her peach-colored eyes trailed Mark with amusement.
Mark looked back at her.
He froze, not knowing whether to be surprised or annoyed at her silent spectating.
"Can you leave now?"
A smile sprouted on her face.
"Let's see..."
She stood up, barely able to balance for a few seconds. As she began to fall Mark grabbed her arm.
The young brunette froze, looked at him in the eyes, then put her arm around his shoulders.
"Thanks."
Mark was stunned himself, not knowing what had given him the courage to take such a bold action.
"Yeah, no problem..."
"Caroline."
After blowing out the candle, the two walked through the shadows and left the bar. Mark locked it on his exit.
He glanced at Caroline. As much as he wanted to escort her home, he found himself lacking the courage to ask.
Peeling her eyes away from the lightless city, she looked directly at Mark. Her face seemed to radiate confidence. They were still in arms, their faces felt inexplicably closer than they actually were.
"Would you mind taking me home?"
Mark nearly stumbled.
'Is she not wary at all?"
First she got lethally drunk before him, then passed out, and now letting him walk with her in a pitch-black city with nobody around?
He looked at her with a reassuring smile while bolstering her feelings of security and ease.
"Let's go."
The two walked through the tranquil night. They could only see each other, they could only hear each other, and amidst the chilling winds, they could only find warmth in each other.
Joyful steps echoed through the lightless streets as the couple braved the darkness. It was as if their innocent intimacy gave them the means to endure the tenebrous journey.
Mark looked up.
Perhaps a miracle had occurred. The clouds parted as a pale white glow illuminated their surroundings. The moon shined in its idyllic splendor.
He looked at the elegant woman beside him. Her features seemed to be blessed by the luminous white light.
She looked back. Her expression seemed to convey similar thoughts while gazing at his face.
They both smiled, enjoying the ephemeral moment.
Footsteps approached them as another pair entered the moonlight.
Two battered men supported each other, walking slowly. One was clutching his gut, the other had a limp arm, both had a bruised face.
A glint of familiarity and dread shone in their eyes as they recognized Mark, but neither made a move. Perhaps the two didn't want any more trouble, maybe they were terrified, or they just didn't care anymore.
The young men seemed to have a small fire burning in their eyes, like that of a candle. It relentlessly burned through the chilling winds and the consuming darkness.
They looked forward with perseverance, watching for the times to come while fixated on an uncertain destination: their future.
Mark smiled as he walked past the beaten pair. The beautiful brunette glanced at him.
"Do you know them?"
He looked back at her.
"Yeah, I saw them on the floor and decided to rest them on a building. I also taught them a few lessons about street life."
She gave Mark a dubious look.
"You beat them up, didn't you."
"I did."
A pint of regret crawled inside Mark's heart. Even though he is usually indifferent to such things, for some reason he felt guilty in front of her.
"Well, you probably had a reason to."
He looked back at her with bewilderment.
"Why do you think so?"
The brunette gave him a radiant smile.
"You seem like a good person."
Mark was left speechless. His heart was an utter mess. Even though chilling winds were blowing against him, it seemed as if he was standing in the summer day heat.
He chuckled.
"We've barely met yesterday. But... thanks"
When was the last time he had been praised? He had long forgotten. Such actions had been left in the past, in happier times.
Only now could he remember the warmth that such words brought.
He looked at her face.
The luminescent surroundings made for a perfect place to confess one's feelings. Everything was given a captivating hue as if enchanted by the moonlight.
'How romantic.'
Mark's eyes sharpened, meeting those of the woman beside him.
She questioningly looked at his suddenly serious face.
"What's wrong?"
He looked away, trying to muster some courage. They continued silently for a few steps.
Then, as a sense of boldness blossomed in his heart, he looked back.
"Are you one of the Blessed?"