(Author's Suggested Chapter Song: A thousand years by Christiana Perri)

....

"With you?" Soren was taken aback.

"Yeah." She kicked into a ball of snow, still avoiding eye contact.

"I mean... You are like me, right—an orphan?"

Soren nodded.

"So it's good. I have nowhere to go too. I lost my parents to an Eldritch attack when I was little, and after five years here, I don't even remember much of what the outside world looks like.

Fortunately, I have my daddies. Handler said he is going to introduce me to his family outside.

Apparently, they run raids in the Glass for money.

So what do you think—fun, right?" She looked at him hopefully.

Soren really did not know what to say. The invitation was a tempting one.

"Well... the thing is that. My trial is..."

"Tomorrow. I know, I know." Vinegar suddenly grabbed his face, even though he tried to look away. "But you are not like them, Soren. Even if they let you become a cadet again, do you think they will see you as one of their own?"

Soren looked into her eyes. Then away again. "It's my dream. And I promised Machos..."

"But they threw you in jail!" She stated angrily, turning away.

Soren could see that he had upset her. "Vinegar... I." He tried to make her face him, but she only turned again.

Soren had never handled a teenage girl before, but he could tell that it was going to be difficult trying to change her mind.

Even worse, she was pissed at him.

What to do? What to do?

Soren's mind stormed with ideas. Then one clicked.

"Vinegar," he called, already reaching for her hand, "come with me."

Soren did not wait for her to reply before he pulled her along.

Back into the prison, but to the elevator leading underground.

"Hey," a guard stopped them. "Today is a free day. The Glass is closed."

"I know," Soren replied. "But I want it opened."

"What!?" Both the guard and Vinegar looked at him like he was crazy.

"Points can buy anything in the prison. I want to use my points to buy time into the Glass." Soren stated clearly.

In all the years this guard had been working in this prison, this was the first time he was hearing something so ridiculous.

"I'm sorry, but I can't let you..."

"Allow them." A commanding voice echoed from behind.

Soren turned. To his surprise, it was Sir Edward Kanta.

He walked over and gave a quick glance at Soren. His eyes moved to the couple's interlocked fingers.

"But sir," the guard interrupted. "Captain Scarvguard will be angry if..."

"Do you want me angry?" Edward asked, stepping forward.

The guard stepped back, panicking. "No, Sir."

"Good. They have enough points for it." Edward looked at Soren once more, "and I am sure we all know these ones are too tough to die."

"Yes, Sir Edward." The guard saluted before rushing to go do as instructed.

Edward walked past, continuing on his way.

"Thank you, Sir Edward." Soren showed sincere gratitude. But Edward did not acknowledge him.

Cold as ever.

Regardless, Soren knew he heard.

At the underground, Soren and Vinegar were handed their weapons, Glassheart and its equivalent.

"The Glass will be opened for thirty minutes. No more, and no less." The guard informed. "For which ten thousand points would be deducted. Do you accept?"

"Soren... that's... that's so expensive." Vinegar complained.

But Soren did not mind. He had a lot of them anyway.

"I accept."

The Glassbreaker was activated. And Soren, taking Vinegar's hand in his own, walked into the Glass.

...

"So why are we here?" Vinegar asked, staring at the familiar landscape that had ruled a major part of her life.

"Come on, we don't have much time." Soren ran, and she followed.

Soon, they got to the entrance of her cave. This time around, he jumped into the hole willingly, and she followed after.

Soren presented a hand like a real gentleman, helping her get up. And then both of them walked to the Wall of Memories.

"Soren, why are we here?" Vinegar asked, facing the wall.

She did not notice him sweating and swallowing hard, as if summoning the courage to face a herd of antibodies again.

She turned to him

Immediately, he leaned in, his lips touching her own.

It was only for a fraction of a second, then he backed away, closing one eye and shrinking into himself.

She was taken aback. "Did you just... kiss me?" She blushed.

He nodded, shrinking further.

"What are you doing?" She asked, confused.

"Well... it was all Sausage Neck's idea. Before he left, he suggested that if I really loved you, I should take you to a nice place you like, kiss you, and wait for the punch.

If the punch comes, then it means you don't like me like I do you."

She smiled, but with her eyes. "And if I don't hit you?"

"Then I'm a lucky man."

Vinegar could not believe what she was hearing. Soren was brave enough to rush into a horde of deadly antibodies but was scared of kissing a girl?

She found it so adorable.

Vinegar bit her lower lip, staring at him for a long second.

Light from the memory wall shimmering across her purple skin, her breath soft and quick in the cold air.

"Soren, do you want to be a lucky man?"

His hands hovered in front of him, tense and uncertain.

"Maybe?" he replied, the words barely leaving his lips before she grabbed him by his collar, pulled close, and slammed a kiss into his lips.

Soren felt his heart leap against his chest.

The enveloping scent of her hair and something sweet enveloped his lungs.

The kiss was wet and clumsy at first—a bit awkward, but slowly, his hands slid down, wrapping around her waist, pulling her closer, feeling her warmth through the thin fabric of her clothes.

Never had he felt so much bliss.

It was like all his senses were thanking him all at the same time.

Vinegar broke the kiss. "I like you, Soren. I like you, like you like me."

Those words... they made his heart race in ways he had only felt when confronting death.

Then Vinegar pulled away a bit and sat on the ground.

She patted the space next to her. "Come on."

Soren's mind was blank from the kiss, but he hurriedly joined her.

She leaned on his shoulder, one arm under his own as she snuggled closer.

"Thank you, Soren." She whispered, a tear falling from her eye. In my entire life, I have never been so happy."

Soren reached in, a finger wiping the tear. "Do you want to talk about it?"

She nodded but whispered. "It's a lot, and there is no time."

"Trust me, I have time."

Vinegar did not know it yet, but Soren—enveloped by the deep desire to absorb all that she could pour out—killed himself and repeated this day, these 30 minutes, 30 times.

They talked about everything—her old life outside the prison, the tragedy of how she got that scar on her face, how she bonded with her soul, and how she had to mold her mother's burnt corpse like a Glassheart for her shade.

They talked about each and every one of her friends that made up the memories on the wall.

Then her three daddies—how she met them, and how they have loved her for the past three years in this place.

At the end of the day, Soren lay on his bed in his room, staring at a cube from the memory wall.

It was of Vinegar leaning into him.

Soren closed his eyes to sleep, a smile at the corner of his lips.

(Author's note: That was so, so beautiful. I teared up writing this. Come on, tell me. Did you enjoy it?)

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