Convenience of Marriage

She swept her hair back with her left hand, brushing the strands from her eyes.

Then she froze.

Across the street, just beyond a slow crawl of traffic, a man stood under a flickering lamp post. Still as stone. Half of his face covered under the shadow while the other gleamed under the light but even if it were just his eyes visible, heck even a single finger of his, she would have been able to recognize this man. 

Her entire body locked.

"…Conrad."

The name left her lips like a breath she'd been holding back for a while. 

Cars glided between them, headlights glinting off wet asphalt, tires pressing against the slush. She took a step forward.

Then another.

Without thinking, Cecelia darted into the road.

A horn split the air. A car surged toward her. It was a tad too late for her to dodge completely but then a pair of hands caught her.

Strong arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her out of the path with one fluid, urgent motion. She gasped as she was spun away from the headlights, from the street, from the man across it. The world tilted, her feet briefly left the ground, and for a second it felt like she was floating and falling until she landed safely in someone's chest.

They turned with the momentum, his grip still tight around her, her hand clutching the fabric of his coat without realizing it.

When the spinning stopped, her breath caught again.

She turned her head, eyes searching the sidewalk where Conrad had stood.

He was gone.

Nothing but dissolving footprints and the empty shimmer of snow under that flickering streetlamp.

Her heart thudded dully.

Slowly, she turned back to the man who had caught her.

Soren.

His dark coat was dusted in snow, collar turned up against the wind. His jaw was tight, but his expression was unreadable as always. A long, curling plume of breath escaped his lips, white in the air between them. He didn't speak and neither did she.

For a heartbeat, they just stood there, still tangled in the urgency of what almost happened. Snow fell around them, quiet and soft, as if the world had paused to watch this scene. 

Cecelia's voice was barely a whisper. "You—"

Soren sighed and took off his coat. He gently placed it over her shoulders and pulled it from the edges to cover her up. 

Cecelia's eyes showed momentary confusion as he took the coat off only to be replaced by something hard to explain, awe mixed in with gratitude. Her fingers brushed the edge of the fabric, still warm from his body, and a flicker of color rose to her cheeks.

"It's cold tonight. Don't catch a cold and die."

Her expectation died as quickly as he uttered that sentence. 

"Can't you ever say anything nice?"

Soren gave a low grunt, barely a shrug.

"I just saved your life. That's pretty nice, isn't it?"

Cecelia narrowed her eyes, but the flush on her cheeks didn't fade. If anything, it deepened and not just from the sudden bursts of cold air brushing against her face.

She adjusted the coat around her shoulders, the scent of cedarwood and cigar clinging to the fabric. The collar was far too wide for her, the sleeves hanging long past her wrists, but the warmth of it… more precisely the warmth of him still lingered.

He looked at her then as in really looked at her and for the first time that night, something shifted in his eyes away from the usual cold and indifference. 

"I didn't think I'd see you here," he said, voice low, breath fogging the space between them.

"I could say the same." Her arms folded under the coat. "Were you following me?"

"If I was, you wouldn't have noticed, princess."

She scoffed under her breath. "You're insufferable."

"And yet," he said with a faint smirk, "here you are."

Her gaze lingered on his face a moment longer than it should have, then shifted. "I saw someone."

"I know," he said simply.

Her brows knit but then her eyes lit up at the thought of someone being there to valid the fact that she wasn't being schizophrenic. "You saw him too?"

He hesitated for the briefest second, then nodded. "Looked like him. Could've been. Or not."

"I might've imagined it."

"Maybe." He exhaled again, slow and visible. "Or maybe not."

She looked off toward the street, jaw tight. He followed her gaze, then tilted his head slightly while his gaze slowly fell down to her bare hands. 

"No ring?" he asked, tone deceptively casual. "Trouble in paradise already?"

Her shoulders tensed and eyes turned alert. A hollow laugh left her delicate red lips. 

"Trouble in paradise? No way. We are doing perfectly well. I would never let a man like that go. Handsome, noble, and a great conversationalist."

Cecelia said that knowing full well she hadn't bothered to put in an ounce of effort into an actual productive conversation with the said great conversationalist. 

Soren snorted. "Right. On paper, he's perfect. Just try not to paper-cut yourself when it folds."

She turned to him fully, eyes hard. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He just shook his head once. "Not all is as it seems, princess. Especially with him."

Something between a mix of amusement and disbelief passed behind her eyes before she turned away and started walking in the opposite direction. The snow crunched softly under her heels. She hadn't taken the coat off.

"Cecelia."

She paused but didn't turn.

"Did you ever think about what I said… before?"

Her fingers twitched at her side. The wind caught a strand of hair and swept it across her cheek. 

Cecelia took a deep breathe and turned her face to a side. 

"I heard you," she said quietly, her voice delicately carried by the wind. "I just need time. There are things I have to… deal with first before I can commit to this cause."

Right then a black car pulled up near the entrance of the restaurant. Cecelia waved without turning around and strutted towards the car. The driver stepped out when he spotted her to open the car door. In a matter of minutes, the car drove off leaving a small trail of dust and smoke.