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the lights were dimmed down low, and from somewhere in the large, circular room, the violins crooned out a song. the clink of glasses, occasional loud bursts of laughter, and the 'click click click' of heels added the finishing touches to the atmosphere.
and for one woman standing alone at the bar, all of this was natural to her.
a manicured, glossy thumb played with a ring sitting on her index finger. she turned her head, and the ambient light from the low-lit chandelier hanging above illuminated the shimmer atop her cheekbones as well as the angle of her jaw.
“martini,” she finally spoke to the bartender.
“just the one?”
in response, she pulled out a bill from her purse and slid it across the counter in a single, fluid motion. “closed tab.”
a clear drink was passed over to her, and she gently picked it up by the stem, lowering the tip of the cone-shaped glass to her dark red lips. she knew everybody’s eyes were on her, but her face stayed impassive.
slowly, she raised her eyes to a man in a pressed suit sitting opposite from her far across the circular bar. instead of pretending that he wasn’t staring, he kept her gaze. his lips rose into a smirk.
she pushed herself off from her seat, snagged her purse atop her elbow, and walked to where he sat. she took her time, knowing his gaze was watching her curved form. and like a being descending from heaven, she took the seat next to him. the twittering girl who was on his opposite side took one look at her, shut up, and immediately took her leave. she knew when she’d lost the man’s attention.
browned gelled hair shining underneath the chandelier light, the man leaned forward and twirled a finger around the vixen’s red locks.
“and what is the name of this pretty thing?”
“lauren.” she blinked slowly and smiled. “you?”
his curving wrist as he continued to play with her hair shimmered, and from the corner of her eye, a diamond bracelet glittered.
“tom.” he offered no surname, but as she glanced down, a brooch sat atop his breast pocket. laurel leaves and a hawk, signifying the evans family, one of the richest in ardhalis.
lauren set her drink down and leaned forward, trailing her finger lightly against his jaw. his eyes became alight with the action.
“what brings you here, tom? or should i say, frederick evans?”
the lust in his eyes disappeared with a flash as he jolted up from his chair. with a mix of surprise and anger, he took one last look at her before slamming a couple of bills on the counter and walking out of the bar. a few people tittered at the abrupt leave, but the atmosphere soon settled.
lauren smiled and swiveled back to face her drink. she took a sip from her martini, letting the drink’s flavors play over her tongue, before opening her fingers and letting frederick evans’ diamond bracelet dangle between her index and thumb.
she smirked. not a bad night.
her quiet celebration was disrupted by the arrival of a newcomer settling into the seat that had just been occupied by the evans heir.
“one merlot,” a deep, sensual voice said to the bartender.
“yes sir.” in moments, the drink was pushed over to him.
lauren slid her gaze over to the man, who observed the drink in his hand instead of looking at her. he spun the glass once, twice, looked at the swish of the red liquid, and took a sip.
in a half second, lauren had already analyzed him from top to bottom. not a single jewel was visible on his body. he clearly wasn't a fish worth frying.
“i’d like to be alone,” she said coldly, palming the diamond bracelet once more.
his eyes had not once fallen on her. “loneliness didn’t give you those diamonds. or that man’s brooch that’s currently sitting in your purse.”
her face stayed unmoving, but her heart skipped a beat. she decided to play along. “no, but it did give me peace of mind.”
now he laughed, the sound fitting in with the bar’s ambience. not one person glanced over at them. “fiery temper. typical of sinclairs.” he took another sip from his drink, before adding, “you’re good at what you do, i’ll give you that.”
she blinked, surprised that he knew her family name. sirens sounded in her head, and she immediately knew that this man was dangerous. she placed the bracelet inside her purse, closing the clasp for good measure.
“how do you know me?” lauren demanded.
“i’ve known you for a while now, darling,” he said, and the pet name grated on her nerves. “frequenting bars not unlike this one, targeting the wealthy, snatching up bracelets and necklaces, watches and earrings.”
his gaze finally turned to her, dark blue meeting gold. “and stealing my prey in the process.”
lauren laughed, the sound just as natural and just as fake as his. “so you have a claim on every person in town? arrogance suits very few people, and it certainly doesn’t suit you.”
“call it arrogance if you’d like. but let me tell you one thing.”
he leaned forward, capturing her gaze in his. “this town is only so large, and there is only so much gold to steal. and there is only enough room for one winner.”
she held his look, refusing to back down. “we’ll see who’s the last one standing.”
“that we will. and a good night to you, darling.” he finished his wine, and as he stood up, his fingers waved goodbye to her. the scent of cologne, surprisingly not as heavy as other men, followed him out the door.
lauren allowed a scowl to overtake her face before turning back around to finish her drink. it was time for her to leave.
but as she set the empty glass back down on the counter, she stopped. her eyes fell on her purse, with its latch hanging wide open.
flipping open the top, she looked through her things. after a few seconds, she slammed the bag down, a stormy look overtaking her face.
the bracelet was gone.
⌞ ° • + • ° ⌟
what her newest rival said was true. this was a small town.
of course, lauren and him were not the only ones who have taken up this profession. every other week, a person was captured and arrested on grounds of thievery and pick pocketing. sometimes they had to be dragged out of the bar, protesting and yelling as they went, with policemen herding them out the door and into a carriage to be taken to the town’s jail.
on every one of those nights, lauren silently took up her purse with her goods and left the bar for the night. security would be heavier in places where a thief had been freshly caught. she knew when she had to take her cuts and leave.
after that one night at the bar, from when she stole from frederick evans and got stolen from, her newest acquaintance became a constant in her mind and in her life. she began to notice his presence as soon as she entered a bar or a party, with his body slouched inside a booth and his arm thrown over a pretty young lady’s shoulders. he would whisper sweet nothings inside her ear, and lauren knew that as she giggled, drawn in by his charm, he was pocketing all of the valuables off her body.
although he existed as a phantom on the edge of her consciousness, lauren never let it distract her. she flirted with countless men, indulged countless ladies, and sold off countless pieces of jewelry and prized possessions. she made sure to never frequent the same place two times in a row because she had seen one too many people storm in one night, demanding to see someone who had stolen something off of them in the evening before.
when she wasn’t cozied up inside her apartment curled around a good book with the thermostat turned up, lauren wore scandalous dresses like a mask and frequented bars across town. and she didn’t know how, but she always seemed to be at the ones that her rival was also at.
it was on one of these nights after lauren had finished with her third victim that her rival strolled up to where she was sitting at the bar.
“police didn’t get you yet, sinclair?” he said, donning a devilish smirk.
she took a sip of her drink- a sidecar this time- before she responded. “surprised they haven’t caught you yet, white,” for she had already gotten his name when she passed by his table once at a party different from this one. the girl under his arm, with bleach-blond hair pinned up and pearls dotting it with garish coral lipstick on her mouth, had exclaimed a teasing “kieran white!”
she told herself she was only listening in to their conversation to figure out his strategy, but she couldn’t for the life of her figure out why she turned over his name again and again when she was lying in bed to sleep later that night.
“you’ve been doing homework!” though he acted surprised, kieran didn’t falter at lauren revealing his identity. after weeks at this game, she knew he had already expected her to learn it.
he reached forward and picked up her forearm. a familiar diamond bracelet glittered off of her slender wrist. “and you’ve stolen from me yet again.”
lauren repressed the urge to roll her eyes, and plucked back her arm from his light grasp. “it was mine in the first place, you prick.”
after that night, kieran and lauren stole the bracelet back and forth from each other as a part of their game. it was the one and only prize from her catches that lauren couldn’t bear to pawn off. and to his credit, kieran hadn’t sold it off either.
“mine now,” he grinned as he dangled the bracelet that had once been on her wrist in front of her. he snatched it away before she could take it and placed it in his pocket.
“and how is your craft?” kieran asked her, waving away the bartender as he passed by.
“only an idiot would tell a thief what valuables they own. that’s just asking to be robbed.”
“so i take it that you haven’t been doing so well? really, sinclair, if you needed financial help you only need to, let’s see, surrender to me and beg for a couple of my spoils!”
she cursed him a million different ways in her head, her grip tightening around the stem of her drink.
“now, let’s not get too hasty!” kieran propped his elbows against the counter, facing the crowds of people while lauren was turned the opposite way.
“did you come here to bore me to death or to actually give me useful information.”
he placed a hand on his heart. “i’d never let you down, mon amour. i have an in from a close friend of mine. there’s going to be a gala at the redcliffs’ on the 24th. upper class, of course.”
she considered this as she took a sip. “the redcliffs, you say?”
“mhm.”
“why are you telling me this? don’t you know it might give me an edge over you?”
his teal blue eyes glittered, and she was reminded of how similar the glimmer was to the diamond bracelet. another reason why she didn’t pawn it away, but she rarely ever admitted that to herself.
“i figured it’d be unfair to my rival, of course.”
she scowled. “how generous of you.”
“now that you know, i’ll be taking my leave. and,” he added, before opening her seemingly inconspicuous hand that was fisted on the counter, “i’ll be taking this.” the bracelet that she had just stolen was taken back.
she sniffed, relenting before turning back to her drink. it was a clear dismissal.
and yet, once he had pushed off from the bar to slide next to a woman with an emerald necklace on her collar, lauren felt his absence like a lost glove.
she shook it off as she, too, walked to her next prey. a glove and a diamond bracelet she could do without. she pushed away thoughts of mussed-up twilight hair, blue eyes, and a coy smile, instead thinking about the gala in two weeks’ time.
*⌞ ° • + • ° ⌟*
it was their seventh meeting in which they encountered trouble. specifically, the police.
lauren had been playing with the tie of a man who was sitting next to her when two young policemen burst through the door.
“we’ve got an anonymous tip that there is a criminal in this bar,” the male blond one announced. murmurs and shocked whispers erupted. “although it may just be a prank call, we would like everyone to cooperate so we may get this done with as quickly as possible.”
“shit!” the man whose tie lauren had been playing with jerked up. he still seemed inebriated. “police? i can’t be here. if my wife-” he quickly glanced at her before stumbling to his feet. he said a rapid “excuse me,” before striding out the door. the blond-haired policeman quickly followed him, thinking he was suspicious.
“alright!” the second one said, a blue-haired policewoman. “i’ll be questioning and investigating everyone one by one, so please remain calm and in your seats!”
a group of women in the corner suddenly burst out in hysterics, and the policewoman turned around, throwing her hands up in the air. “for the love of-”
lauren quickly took advantage of her distraction to first stash her purse underneath the couch in the very corner before dashing over to kieran. he was sitting up, alert, and was scanning the room for an escape.
he looked at her as she went over to him. “what-”
“get up,” she hissed, before taking his wrist and dragging him to a nearby storeroom. she closed the door behind her but made sure not to lock it.
“take out all your things.”
he gave her a smug look. “really, sinclair, if you wanted to get in my pants you only needed to ask-”
“now! hurry!”
he shot her a put-out expression before tugging out necklaces, earrings, and rings from his pockets. he even took out someone’s belt buckle.
lauren gave him a look. “really?”
“it’s a brand name!”
with no time to waste, lauren quickly swept away all of the goods into a box, stuffing it way in the back behind other storage knicknacks. then she began remaking herself.
she messed up her hair, brushing it out with her fingers so her perfectly coiffed locks fell in disarray. she angled her necklace pendant a bit higher to the left, shifted her dress, and smeared her eyeshadow. lastly, she took off one of her heels, tossing it to the side.
quick as a flash, she reached for kieran, messed up his hair also, pulled out his tie half way, and yanked up his white shirt just enough to show some skin. the hard angle of his abdomen lit a brief fire in her gut, but she adamantly pushed it away.
“what are you doing?”
she took a deep breath. “saving our lives, idiot. do you trust me or not?”
blue eyes met gold. “of course.”
lauren’s stomach flip-flopped at the surety of his voice, and she gave herself a moment to draw courage from that unwavering surety. then she stepped forward, pushed him gently so that he fell back on the hard plastic foldable chair, and drew closer to him. taking a deep breath, she straddled his lap, pulling her legs to either side of his hips.
this close, she could hear his breathing falter and see the pupils of his eyes dilate. lauren refused to look down at how her thin black dress hiked up to the top of her thighs. just as she heard footsteps nearing the door of the storage room, she placed one hand on his shoulder and used the other to hold on to his tie.
“can i?”
if his eyes could get any wider, lauren thought, they could fit the moon in there. “please do.”
she leaned in, pressing their mouths together just as kieran surged forward.
she didn’t know she’d been yearning for this until this moment. it was as if she had been waiting her whole life to be furiously making out with her rival-in-crime in the darkness of a dusty storage room. his hands fell to her waist, pulling her dress up higher, and her hand that was on his shoulder drifted to the nape of his neck and his hair.
just as they were about to fall into a place of no return, the sound of a doorknob twisting interrupted them. lauren separated from kieran, breathing heavily, to turn around and make eye contact with the two police officers staring at them, shocked.
after a minute of cursing and stumbling and the accidental knocking over of a box of cloth napkins, lauren and kieran stood up. she made a show of fixing her dress and brushing back her hair as much as possible.
when she glanced over at kieran, there was a smear of red lipstick- her lipstick- across his perfect mouth, adding a touch of rogueness to his already dangerous aura. she forced herself not to think about what that sight did to her.
“are you both done?” the blue-haired one squeaked. they both had their faces turned either skyward or turned completely around to give the two of them some semblance of privacy as they rapidly fixed themselves up.
“yes,” lauren said sheepishly. “sorry about that. we weren’t expecting-”
“completely our fault,” the blond haired one replied cordially, though still scandalized. “we’re just going to pat you both down very quickly before leaving. mostly everything looks either dusty or pretty untouched here.”
they did just that, the girl refusing to make eye contact with lauren, before they thanked them again and backed out of the room, respectfully closing the door behind them.
awkwardness hung in the air, thick as a slab of butter. lauren shifted from foot to foot.
kieran was the first to speak up. “i guess your true colors have come out now, serpent sinclair.”
she threw her remaining shoe at him.
**⌞ ° • + • ° ⌟
in the remaining week before the gala, lauren tried her hardest to banish the memory of warm hands on her skin from her mind. she refused to visit any bars in the meantime. but as the days crept closer to the gala’s evening, anticipation seemed to electrify her bones.
she arrived by carriage. lauren passed her coat over to the bellhop by the door, and he bowed before he stored it on one of the many racks in the foyer.
she walked through the mansion’s grand mahogany doors and descended the steps, careful to not trip over the hem of her dress. since she was playing as a noble tonight, she wore a longer and more expensive dress than what she usually wore. a dark green dress, that instead of being fluffed out at the skirt, fell from her waist like water and similarly pooled at the floor. the off-shoulder gown had a high leg slit, all the way up at her hip, and clusters of diamonds gathered on the ripples near the underside of her shoulders and where the leg slit started. wearing this dress among nobles who wore conservative clothing was a bold move, and she could feel gazes snagging on her as she strode past.
like always, the moment she stepped into the main hall with the dance floor and bar in the corner, she could sense where kieran was. he was chatting up a brunette, but as soon as she entered the room, his eyes flickered up to her, fell back down to the woman in his lap, and snapped back up again as he made a double take.
she knew everyone’s eyes were trapped on her. she was aware of it. so why did it feel different knowing he was just as enraptured?
lauren strode over to the bar and ordered a mai tai. this time, she waited.
soon enough, she heard a man’s voice behind her. she turned, gave him a sensual smile, and followed him to where he and his buddies sat on a sofa.
hours later, lauren leaned against a wall with a new drink in hand. her purse was now comfortably heavy with jewels and gold.
“alone at last, it seems.”
she smiled as she swirled the drink in its glass. “you sound like you’ve been waiting for me.”
“dressed like that, of course every person is going to want a second with you.”
“you, too?” she knew she was crossing a dangerous line, the invisible, unspoken line between them.
their gazes connected, and something in the air between them hummed, electrified. “don’t take me for a fool,” he said as he took a step closer. “underneath the criminal is just a man.”
even as she stealthily unclasped the bracelet from his wrist, she kept his gaze. for once, he seemed not in the mood for pretenses or games. “is this the dress that you’re talking to, or the thief?”
something in his eyes softened, and once again, warning bells went off in her head. “you are always beautiful,” he said, voice strangely hoarse. “under the neon lights of a shitty bar or the sea of a thousand stars.”
he reached out, his hand crossing the expanse of a battlefield. her breath stole away as he pushed a lock of red hair behind her ear. “why else do you think i approach you every night when we frequent the same place?”
the bracelet swung from her fingers. “for this?”
his eyes fell down to the jewelry, and some composure swept away the wildness that lauren hadn’t realized was there until it was gone. “of course,” he responded, and as he leaned back, his voice had taken on a stilted, cold tone. “for the game.”
her throat felt dry. she wanted him back, with the warmth from his body dancing across her skin. she wanted his smirks and his teases. she wanted.
“kieran, i-”
“i should get back.” again, that cold tone. “rings to take, marriages to break. good night, sinclair.”
and he was gone, leaving the cavity in her feeling emptier in spite of her purse’s weight.
*⌞ ° • + • ° ⌟*
days and weeks passed, and lauren felt his absence more keenly than she’d expected. once-a-week trips to a bar turned into twice a week, then thrice. she didn’t stay long in places where she could feel he wasn’t there, and instead only talked up one or two people before taking her leave.
what once was a profession to gain a few extra bills turned into attempts to see a familiar presence slouched against a counter or thrown over a lap.
although her dresses changed, hairstyles altered, and makeup switched around, the one thing that remained constant was the bracelet on her wrist, waiting to be taken by a familiar blue-eyed thief.
as nights continued without seeing kieran’s face, a sick feeling began crawling into her gut, festering with every evening that he wasn’t at the same bar as her. every time she addressed that sick feeling, images of him with metal clasps around his wrists, locked behind bars flashed through her mind before she forcefully pushed it away. days flew by, and it became harder and harder to banish the images.
five weeks after the gala, she entered a party, one that was less populated and quieter than others. instead of that familiar feeling settling in her body, she felt something else. something she’d missed, something she’d only ever associated with one other person.
her head whipped around to see kieran white in the process of sliding a rolex watch off of a man’s arm. but just as she turned to look at him, his eyes shot up, too.
he only had the chance to pocket the watch before lauren hauled him out of his seat and pushed him into an adjacent hallway. the door swung shut behind them.
her pulse was thundering in her head. all of her focus fell on her hand fisted atop his chest, his widened eyes, his slightly parted mouth.
“where the hell have you been, you prick?!”
“lauren, what-”
“five weeks! five weeks without a single word from you, i thought you’d been-” her voice broke off, and all of the worry that she’d kept pent up threatened to burst out of her like a flood.
“you’d thought i’d been arrested?” understanding came to him slowly. “lauren, i- you know nothing could’ve happened to me.”
she pushed him away, spinning around to face the opposite wall. she raked her fingers through her hair, the hallway spinning around her.
silence rang out between them. “after that night, i couldn’t bear to see you again so soon,” he said after a while, his voice taking on the same hoarseness. “i felt like a fool, and i’d blasted it all to hell to embarrass myself in front of you, especially when this has only been a game between us.”
“who said it was just a game for me?”
she heard his intake and turned back to look at him. his eyes were wide, stunned.
“i was-” she started, then stopped because her throat clogged up again. “i was worried for you.”
he reached out and tugged her into an embrace. she fell in, hands falling naturally around his waist and forehead cradled under his collarbone. “never again, darling,” he murmured into her hair. “never again.”
she felt him kiss the top of her head. then down to her eyebrow, then over the bridge of her nose. he hovered over her mouth, asking silently.
“you really did worry me, you know,” she whispered.
“i know.” he leaned in.
their first kiss was an apology. their second was a promise.
their third? well, like everything they were built on top of, their third was a challenge.
*⌞ ° • + • ° ⌟*
lauren had expected their love to burn fast and hot, then to fizzle away, leaving only pain and destruction.
instead, their love was slow. it was careful. kieran crept his way into her life and her heart gradually, like snow slowly melting away after a long winter. she brought him to her apartment, and they bickered with each other over how to make tea. and yet not ten minutes later, her head was in his lap and they both had a book in hand. their mugs of tea sat on the wooden living room table, water vapor rising then disappearing into nothing.
though that wasn’t to say their relationship lacked passion. every so often, they lifted a room key from a hotel, and after they’d pillaged and plundered their fill, they tumbled into silk sheets, the hum of electricity replacing the beat of their hearts.
after their moments of lovemaking, they would sleep, curled up in each other’s arms.
[“this doesn’t feel real,” she whispered once.
he kissed her hair, and leaned down to worship her body like it was treasure. “it's you. you are a dream.”]
once a week, they wore their evening dress and suit like battle armor, brushed their hair back and pinned it up. a pearl necklace, an antique watch. a couple of bills for drinks and they were off, from now on, to the same location.
one would enter first, make sense of the room, and find someone to drape themselves over. the other would follow ten minutes later to not rouse suspicion. by working together, their catch increased immensely, to the point that they only had to frequent bars and parties once every two or three weeks instead of one. it was for the best that it turned out this way, because one night, as lauren was walking back to her apartment from the grocery store, two pinned-up pieces of paper on the bulletin board hung in front of the store caught her attention.
she ran all the way back, paper bags in one hand and two crumpled papers fisted in another. she burst through the door, chest heaving, and kieran immediately dropped his newspaper to stride over to her.
“they’re onto us,” lauren said quickly before passing over her findings.
on the two sheets of paper were each of their faces, and their names were written in bold underneath. WANTED ON GROUNDS OF THIEVERY, the papers also read, with a prize of ten million dollars for any person who could bring one of them in. a description indicated that they might be found with valuables, specifically, the evans’ family diamond bracelet that had been passed down for centuries. apparently frederick evans was putting up a fight.
“it’s just as i told you,” kieran murmured. “this town is too small.”
“we can run,” lauren said. “there are other cities, other people to steal from.”
he nodded slowly. “we could. but you’ve already made your home here.”
she took his hand, the one that wasn’t holding on to their WANTED posters. “as long as we’re together.”
he squeezed her hand back. “as long as we’re together.”
the next few days passed by in a blur. lauren packed away her necessities, sold away the last of her catches, and closed up any last threads. there wasn't much in this small town that was holding her back, anyway. while she did this, kieran went off to gather his own possessions and to get records of false identities for them. for a couple of days, she didn’t see much of kieran. in the daytime, they were securing their separate finances and packing up their things, but at night, they came back to lauren’s small, cold apartment and fell into each other’s arms.
it was on one of these nights when they were in bed, kieran playing with lauren’s hair absentmindedly and lauren just about to doze off on his shoulder when he spoke up. “lauren, dear.”
she roused slightly. “yes?”
“how do you feel about one last party? we steal as much as we want without exhibitions or cautions. then we run.”
now she was fully awake. “i’m down. the only question is whether or not you’re up for the task, white.”
his eyes gleamed. “try me.”
there was a party on the sixth of march, and coincidentally, one of the grandest gatherings that this town had ever seen. nobles and elites would be traveling to ardhalis to first watch an opera show, then to have a banquet.
they went over the plan together in the dark of night. they would steal uniforms of the workers and pose as the guards at the front of the opera house, with the role of patting down the nobles and checking to make sure they didn't have any weapons on them. in other words, it was an easy way to snatch earrings by brushing hair over a noble’s shoulder, to nick a brooch when patting down an old elite’s front, to lift a pocketwatch from a man’s pocket while he was more concerned with cleaning his glasses, and to pull off bracelets and rings from people’s arms and hands.
then, in the bustle of everyone finding their seats and sitting down, lauren had the task of cutting all the lights of the opera house while kieran had the role of stashing away knapsacks and bags of the valuables that they had just stolen. once their jobs were completed, they could take advantage of the moving bodies in the dark to continue to snatch the rest of the goods off people’s bodies. as soon as they were done, they’d reconvene at the carriage in the back and move on to the next city.
she trusted that kieran would stick to his job, and so would she.
on the night of the party, lauren pulled the stolen uniform over her body and tied her striking red hair into a low bun, covering her head with a cap.
she met up with kieran at the base of the stairs of her apartment, her partner looking ready to go, dashing and humble in every way.
“ready to go, sinclair?”
she matched his smile. “ready.”
the night seemed laced with danger as the two got to the opera house and took up their stations. the first part of their plan processed without hiccups. the first few guests came in, and with expert hands, lauren palmed valuables and stored them in the pockets of her uniform. and as more people arrived, it was easier to steal goods among the chaos of a crowd of people.
when the last of the guests passed through the door, lauren met up with kieran in a darkened hallway. they stashed the stolen items inside woven cloth bags, pulling the drawstrings shut. they managed to fill up four whole bags. he tapped her on the wrist and passed her a bundle of clothes.
lauren entered a side closet, pulled down her uniform, and zipped up a stunning black evening dress with rhinestones dotting the front over her body. matching high back heels were strapped on her feet, and lauren let down her hair, the red coming down in curled waves.
they finished, and kieran hefted two of the bags over his shoulders. “i’ll bring these out to the carriage. in six minutes, cut the lights. then we’ll take the last of these people’s treasures.”
before he could turn and leave, lauren reached out and pulled him in by the front of his shirt. without any free hands, he followed with little reluctance or restraint. their mouths met in a flurry of passion and heat.
to lauren, it tasted like a goodbye.
they broke apart, that familiar flame lighting up in her lover’s teal blue eyes. he smirked. “there’ll be more of that later.”
lauren smirked back. “that’s a promise.”
she entered the crowds of people and walked down the carpeted strip. she was glad for their plan, because her dress allowed her to blend in amongst the nobles in their finery. lauren moved quickly, yet not hastily, to the door leading to the back of the stage. she glanced around once before diving into its depths.
three minutes had passed. lauren eyed the grand clock situated on the opposite wall of the opera house and followed the seconds hand with her eyes.
the crowds of people were just about settled in. the clock would hit the sixth hour mark just as soon as the six minutes came to a close, and the resulting booms would mask the sound of lauren flipping switches and cutting ropes with her pocket knife. she waited, anticipation building in her chest. her blood felt like it was moving at light speed, and lauren’s fingers twitched, ready to snatch rubies and pull sapphires.
five seconds before six, lauren murmured a last sentence.
“i’m sorry, kieran.”
she lifted the knife, ready to slash at the ropes.
the grand clock boomed six times. she knew exactly what was happening, and exactly what she was doing.
right at this moment from far across the room, outside the opera house itself where a blue-haired thief was stashing away twin bags of gold and silver, she knew two cops were now pointing revolvers at the thief and were demanding his hands to be brought up, announcing the charges on which he was to be arrested.
what she didn’t expect, however, was the sound of voices behind her just as her knife fell an inch away from the ropes.
“lauren sinclair, hands up in the air NOW!”
and it was only when she was forced to drop the knife and handcuffs were snapped over her wrists, that she saw a familiar diamond bracelet had somehow found its way onto her arm.
*⌞ ° • + • ° ⌟*
they arrested her because she had the evans’ family heirloom on her, which they took as evidence that she was the town’s famed thief. paired with the fact that they had a poster drawing of her face, they had all rights to lock her up in jail for many years to come.
she snarled as the two policemen gripped her biceps, marching her out of the opera house. her knife was long gone, already confiscated.
the policewoman on her right was speaking into a walkie-talkie. “yes, we’ve got her. lauren sinclair. the tip was right.”
how? how?! her plan was airtight, and the only person who could’ve known about it was-
a familiar, midnight blue-haired man was kept hostage in the foyer, surrounded by police. his hands were bound in handcuffs.
everything clicked into place. everything made sense. it was all clear now, her deception and his lies. she could see the realization and the betrayal in his face, and knew she reflected it.
“you prick!” it took three policemen to hold her back as she fought against them, tooth and nail. “you absolute son of a bitch! i’m going to kill-”
“now now, mon amour,” he said, and she was stunned into silence by the coldness in his voice. from the moment that she met him, he had never taken on that tone with her. never.
“you of all people should’ve known from the beginning who i was. i should've known who you were. the moment you burst through that door with the posters in hand, i should've known you’d trade me off like cattle for that prize.”
she bared her teeth in response. “don’t act the victim. you did the same.”
“that i did.” his eyes bored into hers. “we played each other like fools, and like fools we now own the consequences.”
as they were both forced out of the opera house by the police, one last sentence was uttered from her.
“this marks the end of our tale, white.”
*⌞ ° • + • ° ⌟*
in the months after her arrest, the cold walls of her jail cell and the light of the moon were her only companions. she couldn't help but turn over her memories one by one, trying to find the moment when they’d started to betray each other.
she was just his tool. and he, her fool.
liars and lovers were never meant to have their happy endings – only ones that ended in wildfire and destruction.
*⌞ ° • + • ° ⌟*
whispers from a memory long lost haunted her.
“as long as we’re together.”
a pause.
“as long as we’re together.”