Chapter 4

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24/07, 103rd Year of Peace.

Government Territory, East Hazandria.


It was an explosion of colours he didn't know existed and feelings he'd never felt before, and Liam didn't know what to do.

She pulled away.

Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes starry, she'd never looked so beautiful before and she was leaving. She was getting up and gathering her bags and she was leaving.

She'd never left her macarons unfinished before.

As she stumbled clumsily under the weight of her many shopping bags, he got up and ran after her. He left twenty gold pieces on the table as an afterthought, earning bewildered glances from the waiting staff.

He hurried to catch up with Felicity – she was surprisingly fast, considering the height of the shoes she wore – shouting after her:

"Where are you going?"

"Back to the Academy," came the muffled and surprisingly tearful reply. He hated seeing her cry; it made him want to cry too. "The sales will be over soon, and I'm out of money anyway."

This he knew was a lie. She had plenty of money, and she was not afraid to use it.

"So are we just going to forget about this?"

She was silent for a while. Then, finally, a quiet "Yes."

"Why?" He was frustrated, and confused, and she was running away from him. "Felicity, talk to me!"

"Just leave me alone, Liam!"

This was not good. Not good at all. Because he was slowly but surely realising something, and it was terrifying him.

*****

24/07, 20th Year of the Rebellion.

Government Territory, East Hazandria.


When Felicity woke up, her face was wet from tears, and her throat sore from shouting in her sleep. She didn't know why memories of events that she hadn't thought of in nearly twenty years were resurfacing, but she didn't like it. There was only one cure that she could think of.

Depression-shopping — a term that Liam had coined many years ago. Fortunately, it just happened to be Sale Day today. She hadn't celebrated in years... It was a pity she didn't have better company.

"Get up. We're going shopping."

Warm brown eyes peeked out over an orange duvet that definitely hadn't been found in Felicity's wardrobe. Squee opened her mouth to undoubtedly protest, but took one look at the other girl's desperate eyes and tear-streaked face and thought the better of it.

There was something to be said for her tact, at least.

After two painful hours of perusing shelves, all such tact had been hurled headfirst off of a cliff.

"I'm in agony!"

"Deal with it."

"My feet are going up in flames!"

Such complaints Felicity did not even deem worthy of a response, instead answering with her trademark eyebrow-arch.

Three shops later, all thoughts of fire were gone. Squee was bouncing up and down, drawing alarmed stares and generally being irritating.

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