Winding Roads {A Creative Writing Journal}

Nightingale (Part 1)

Gabriella Rose grunted as she felt the wind get knocked out of her after being slammed into the sparring mat for the third time that round. A part of her wasn't quite ready to get back up.

"At least try to make it difficult for me," Mark, her sparring partner, smirked impishly down at her before offering his hand.

The eighteen year old blew a stray wisp of blond hair out of her face and motioned to sit up. At the last moment, she twisted and swiped her foot to catch Mark's ankle, which sent him tumbling to the floor.

"You really need to stop falling for that," she grinned back at him, sapphire eyes sparkling with mischief. The brunette male groaned audibly and sat up.

"That's what I get for trying to be a gentleman."

"You're not from the Court, Mark Braxton. I don't know why you even bother with manners," she snarked and got to her feet. Without a second glance, she ducked out of the makeshift ring and grabbed her water bottle.

Mark leaned against one of the posts and fiddled with one of the outline ropes, letting his eyes stray to her intricate, though messy, braid. He pursed his lips thoughtfully as he mused over her remark.

"Just because things aren't good for us now doesn't mean we get to act barbaric. I may be a Worker right now, but someday, I'll be something more. We will be something more, Gabs."

"Careful, you're starting to sound like those revolutionaries that came through last year," she chided lightly, not bothering to turn around to face him.

Though it sounded like her usual teasing, Mark could interpret the genuine worry in her words. The twenty year old climbed out of the ring and strode up to the blond drying her face with a semi-clean towel.

   With practiced ease, he wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her close as he felt her rest her head on his chest. The action was both familiar and comforting, and he wished they could stand like this forever, just the two of them.

   Because, if he was being truly honest, it had always been just the two of them. Yes, Gabriella had her two sisters, but they were still in school, and she hardly saw them except in the early morning and right before lights out.

   He had his older brother, but Alec had been gone for several years now. So it really was just he and Gabs. They went to the same school as kids, worked in the same warehouse, and sparred in their raggedy makeshift gym during the three hours they got for free time.

   It wasn't right, he decided, that the Court could control almost every moment of their lives. They had a hold on everything and everyone in Valin, and he was sick of being told how he was supposed to live his life—how anyone should live their lives.

"And what if they were right?" he whispered. That sparked a reaction he didn't expect. Gabriella spun out of his hold and turned to glare up at him.

"You saw what happened to them! We all did! Now get those thoughts out of your head before it kills you," she commanded sternly, recent memories of a bloody execution rushing to the forefront of her mind.

"Gabs," Mark tried to reason with her. She moved to walk away but he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. She quickly jerked her hand out of his.

  "Just listen for a minute. What if it was possible? What if we could overthrow the Court and live free lives? Doesn't that sound amazing?"

"It sounds like a fairytale," she snorted, even as a sort of wistfulness entered her eyes. Mark smiled. It was then he knew that she had the same, secret hopes he had.