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"And then I'm going to stop hiding."
Despite her words, Cinder felt a weird, lingering sense of doubt piercing right into her chest.
Click. Click. Click.
She let out a tired sigh, trying to ignore the dull throbbing in the back of her head.
Click. Click. Click.
Had the engine room always been so bright?
Click. Click. Cli—
"Cinder?" The D-COMM chip fell out of her hand as she heard her name being called out. "Are you in there?"
She scrambled to find the tiny thing, lest it got lost and she never saw it again.
"Do you only answer to 'Your Highness' now?" She couldn't see him, but she felt Thorne poking his head into the room, down to her bones, tissue and metal alike.
Her limbs grew heavier as the once-mild throbbing in her head intensified into blazing, white-hot bursts of pain.
"Cinder?" Thorne was starting to sound worried. The emotion didn't suit him.
Warning texts flashed across Cinder's vision, telling her what she already knew. Low oxygen levels, rapid heart-rate, and the fact that she was severely dehydrated.
That explains the headache, then.
Shutting down... 5%... 10%...
No. No, no, no.
She couldn't pass out right now. Not before she found the D-COMM chip.
25%... 37%...
Thorne's voice turned into a muffled sound, his words unintelligible to Cinder.
And then, she felt his hands wrapping around her waist, pulling her out from underneath the ship's engine. She wanted to stay there, to find the D-COMM chip, but she was tired. Too tired to protest.
"Aces, Cinder. What's up with you?" Thorne asked, propping her up against the ship's wall. His frown deepened as he saw Cinder wince, the pain worsening due to the sudden change in position.
"Headache," she murmured. "It's nothing, really..."
Thorne sighed. "Sometimes, you make me seem like the smart one. It's not a good look on me."
Before Cinder knew it, his hands were in her hair, loosening her vice-like ponytail. Once the hair-tie was gone, she realized that a large portion of the ache had vanished.
"What, exactly, are you doing?" She tried to sound annoyed as he looped the hair-tie around his wrist.
"Shh."
Cinder's breath hitched as she felt his fingers running though her hair, untangling it in the process. She leaned into his touch. Though she hated to admit it, the motion felt weirdly soothing. Especially since no-one had comforted her like that since Peony.
Peony.
The thought of her sister made Cinder's heart convulse in her chest. Feeling like she had no control of her body, Cinder collapsed against Thorne, her forehead colliding with his shoulder.
"Easy, princess." He wasted no time wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into his chest.
Under normal circumstances, Cinder would've withdrawn, maybe thrown in a comment like I'm only half the princess you are, but she was tired. And scared. And tired of pretending she wasn't scared.
And so she let herself lean into him, let herself find solace in his warmth, let the steady beat of his heart calm her own. Cinder allowed herself to wallow one last time. One last moment where she didn't have to pretend.
Here, 12,414 kilometers above the ground, in the arms of an escaped convict, she felt safe.
"Come, now. Don't cry on me."
She smacked him with her right hand. "I can't cry." Despite her words, her voice cracked and something suspiciously close to a sob escaped her.
"Could've fooled me." One of his arms was still wrapped tight around her waist. Cinder knew it was impossible, but it felt like her skin was burning underneath his touch. His other hand continued to thread through her hair, not hurting her despite the fact that the strands must have been horribly tangled.
Cinder found herself leaning into him. Leaning against him. Her eyelids grew heavier as her head lolled to the side.
Thorne caught her before she could fall. Again. "That tired, huh?" he asked with that infuriating chuckle of his. The world tilted as he gently placed her head in his lap. Cinder closed her eyes and didn't open them until long after her head had stopped spinning.
Carswell Thorne's bright blue eyes hit her like a freight train, rendering her speechless, breathless all over again. He must have noticed her widened eyes and puzzled expression, because his mouth curved into a smile, revealing a pair of dimples that turned her to honey. Warm, disgustingly saccharine honey.
"Like what you see?"
Cinder tried to roll her eyes, but they ended up fluttering closed, exhaustion taking over. She turned on her side, facing away from Thorne.
He withdrew his hand from her hair.
She pulled it back.
His chuckle ricocheted all through the empty room.
Cinder had heard that sound 233 times already, yet the urge to tranquilize him never faded. Her annoyance deepened when she heard shuffling sounds outside the engine room. She couldn't go through another session of "How do you plan on taking down your crazy, power-hungry aunt with a tyrannical streak longer than her ever-present veil?"
Just as she'd feared, the footsteps got louder. In her semi-conscious state, she couldn't tell if it was Scarlet or Wolf, or what they said.
The last thing she heard was Thorne's muttered "Not right now," before she drifted off to sleep, all thoughts of the D-COMM chip forgotten.
Maybe she'd look for it when she woke up. Maybe it'd be too late; maybe it'd be lost forever. Maybe they'd never be able to contact the little blonde girl who told Cinder about Levana's plans; never send a rescue mission for her. Maybe, without a proficient hacker as her, the revolution would fail. Maybe they'd all die.
But all that didn't matter right now, as Cinder lay in her best friend's lap, his hands running through her hair.
Right now, she had him, and that was enough.