Broken Glass

《Prologue》

The young woman sat in the study, eyes studying her partner in the room, her chocolate brown orbs travelling across his small body. He looked very frail, delicate, with slender limbs and a thin frame, however he still felt intimidating. What was lacking physically was made up for by his incredible intelligence and mental power.

Whilst the woman looked at him, he too looked at her, taking this opportunity to deduce everything he could about her. His sandy coloured hair shook slightly as he leant forwards, elbows on the desk and fingers steepled under his chin. With beautiful blue eyes, he looked like a typical teen crush.

The woman was quite the opposite.

Where the man was petite, the woman was well-built. The male was tall, where the woman was slightly under the average height.

Her hair was a raven black, twisted into twin buns, resting on either side of her head. Her skin was just slightly tanned, consistent with her recent buisness trips to the East coast of America, where Compound 3 was situated.

There wasn't a lot of the desk between them, minimal equipment laying out on the polished surface. A red and black notebook sat in front of the woman, filled with spiralling, cursive handwriting spelling out detailed notes and feedback based on the Compounds. Next to it, lay a silver cased pen - a fountain pen- with black ink, easy to tell because of the smudges around the nib and handle. In the centre of the desk, there was a three tiered cake stand, displaying a wide assortment of untouched cakes, biscuits and sweets. The stand matched the design of the two teacups, sitting upon saucers, also part of the set. One cup sat in front of each person. The woman leant forward, as if reaching to take a mini battenberg from the stand, but then decided against it. Instead, she finally addressed the man in front of her.

"You are here on behalf of the Organisation, yes? A business trip, not pleasure." The woman spoke, voice harsh and cold, whereas her features were naturally soft, and people often made the mistake of thinking she was younger than she actually was.

"Veronique, when have I ever popped in for just a chat?" He had a strong American accent, after spending many years in the States. His voice and face was so familiar that the woman - Veronique - smiled slightly, the corner of her pale lips reaching up a little, before dropping again.

"True, true. My guess is that you're here to discuss Compound 10." Veronique tapped her fingers against the mahogany desk, manicured nails making a small sound, which then together created a rhythm. The male recognised it as a song that they had listened to together in their younger years. He was surprised she still remembered. It had been so long.

"Ah, Compound 10. I have been informed that everything is running smoothly, and preparations are being made for the first extraction. M1, I believe?" A small nod from Veronique told him he was correct. The people in The Compounds were addressed by alphabetical order suggesting their rank, and then number representing generation. The ranking was based, not on age, but upon talents.

Each Compound contained thirteen girls, thirteen boys and four members of staff. The twenty six girls and boys - known as Members - are trained at these Compunds, taught to be independent and strong.

"Yes. She's come of age. The girl will be replaced by an Outsider, as stated before. Let's hope this Compound works as well as the others." Veronique nodded again, agreeing with her conclusion. Behind her, a glass pane acted as a window, taking up the whole wall, revealing where the curve of the river made a small bay. The pebbles glistened, dripping beads of water reflecting the bright light from the sun, beating down. The heat was almost unbearable at this time of year, and Veronique was glad for her old fashioned air conditioning. Her house was very vintage, decorated like the inside of a house from the early 2000's.The others walls were bookshelves, save for a small area containing a door. As a way to save both the environment and money, but more likely the latter, Veronique had allowed the room to be filled with natural sunlight. There were no electrical lights in the room, or the rest of the house for that matter.

"Let us hope it works even better than the others." The male corrected, reaching for the small cup and saucer on the desk. The cup contained iced tea, with a passion fruit flavour. He found himself staring at the cup, with all its intricate designs and beauty. The rim was gold, with thin curves underneath highlighted in a midnight blue, contrasting against the white body. The design was flipped, and repeated along the bottom. With a small sip, he leant back in the leather chair, squinting a little under the blinding light of the sun.

Veronique however, just smirked at his reaction. She had got used to the sunlight here, with its consistent determination to blind everyone around. Her own hands reached for the cup, spidery fingers curling around the tiny handle, as she too copied his actions and leant back.

"I don't suppose you'll be staying long, Trystan?" Veronique questioned, her voice quieter now, as if she were discussing a conspiracy. It took a few seconds for Trystan to scan her features, before the corner of his mouth quirked up, and a burst of laughter followed.

He couldn't believe she still thought he loved her.

After moving half way across the world, trying to get away from her and their memories, there was still chemistry between the two.

"Roni, you know that I can't." He said. The phrase suggested affection, but there was no love in his voice, no sympathy. In noticing this, he dropped the amused look. "What happened then is in the past. What we had no longer exists. What you feel is nothing but your mind playing tricks on you." He tapped his temple as if you prove his point.

"Yes. My apologies Mr Fontaine." Veronique nodded, understanding. Her face melted back into one showing no emotion, melted back into her 'poker face'. Her voice held no emotion either. Monotone.

They didn't speak after that.

Only silence filled the room, as the business partners - nothing more - sat sipping tea and reminiscing about those years before.

Those years before everything changed.

Changed for the worse.