A/N

The final chapter!

Coincidentally, this is also the longest chapter - so I suggest you sit tight and maybe get yourself something to drink.

PS. There's a bit of Thomliza in this chapter. Don't mind it, but I just thought I kind of liked it, since both Thomas and Eliza are single now. I know lots of people don't ship them, but I ship the Eliza and Thomas I wrote into this book.

Anyways, here it is.

:::

Thomas watched Angelica walk out of the room, feeling strangely content about everything. It was weird. He had felt so strongly about Angelica, and now ... he still had feelings for her, but it was different.

There was no more hurt seeing her with him and talking with him. As if he had made peace wth himself.

"Here. One bottle," the bartender said, drawing the young man out of his thoughts.

"Thanks," Thomas sighed, feeling drained. He pulled out a note and passed it to the man. "Keep the change."

He watched the man walk away to other customers, before moving to twist the cap and pop the whiskey open.

He paused momentarily, as if realising something - his gaze flicked to Eliza, sitting ways away. Her black hair hung Long over her shoulders, as she stared at the wooden counter before her.

Thomas remembered his agreement with Angelica.

He tucked the open bottle under his arm, and used his hands to slide the three whiskey glasses across the counter towards Eliza.

The slide across the counter made an alerting sound, jolting the Schuyler Sister out of her thoughts. She turned to look at Thomas, unable to hide her surprise.

Thomas let got of the three empty glasses, setting his bottle down in front of him.

"Hey," he said, taking the seat two away from her. Despite his natural habits to jump right into a woman's personal space, he felt that this one was nobody to play with. Not only had he gotten out of some strong feelings for somebody himself, but so had Eliza. He thought that, maybe it would take some time to him to get back into his usual routine. He suspected it would take Eliza time too.

"Hey," she replied. She rested her jaw in a cupped hand, smiling softly.

Thomas was not great at reading expressions, but even he could see she was depressed. How much did she love him, exactly? Did she cry when she found out about Angelica?

Or will she cry tonight, when nobody is there to watch?

For a moment there was just silence. Thomas reached forwards and poured himself a glass. There was so many things he was curious about, regarding Angelica's younger Sister. He had never noticed her much before, but right now he wondered how that was exactly. Eliza wasn't ugly.

But she was quiet, and fairly shy.

Would she ever tell anyone if she was hurting? Would she tell her sisters?

"Does it hurt?" Thomas found himself saying, before he had thought it through.

Eliza turned to him, surprised.

Too late to take it back now. Thomas raised the glass slowly to his lips and downed it, buying himself time. Once he had set the empty glass down, he turned and looked at her. She was looking away, thinking hard.

"Not ... really," she answered, locking gazes with him. "I mean, the rejection hurts, yeah."

Thomas scoffed, "Tell me about it."

"But, not so much the loss of Alexander itself," her eyes were a pool of thought, tone almost dazed. He watched her think, watched the emotions flash across her eyes, before crashing back down to the present.

Eliza turned to him, expectant. He made no snide remark, or sarcastic comment. Just sat there, watching her back.

Eliza's eyes narrowed a little, a small quirk touching her lips. As if she were impressed. Or was it amused.

"What about you?" She asked, breaking the phase of silent watching. "Does it hurt for you?"

Thomas leaned back and turned to look through the glass doors. Now, Angelica was laughing at something, and Alexander was just smiling at her, aching with emotions. Thomas still watched them, although he already knew the answer.

"Not really," he told Eliza.

She nodded, her smile gracing into something sweeter, "That's good."

Thomas stared at her for a moment, surprised. There was something different about her smile. Angelica's smile was so lively, and bright. That was what made her beautiful. But Eliza's smile was ... lovely, in place of lively. Sweet and warming, and something that brought beautiful to a whole new level.

Eliza's looking away snapped Thomas out of his confused thoughts. He turned away as well, pouring himself another glass and downing it quickly. He wiped his mouth and set the glass down.

"You look thirsty," he said, and Eliza turned back to him. "Want something?"

Eliza breathed a laugh, "Are you sure?"

"Definitely," Thomas said, surer than anything. He pulled out his wallet and readied a note for her. "What do you need? Coke? Fanta?"

He was being serious as he said this, but he mustn't have been convincing because Eliza's face fell into something dangerously sullen.

"That's not funny."

"I wasn't trying to be," Thomas said, trying to look earnest. "Really. Okay, okay. Ignore me. Just - what do you want?"

"Ginger Ale."

Thomas smiled, "Okay."

He turned and waved to the bartender, who came over frowning.

"You need another bottle?"

"One ginger ale," Thomas replied, unwavering.

The man paused, staring at him, "You're kidding me, right? This is a bar. Not a tuck shop." There was a laugh in his voice as he said this.

Thomas found irritation grinding him.

"No, I'm not kidding you," he snapped. "I asked for a ginger ale, so don't be a dick and give it to me."

"Okay, okay," the bartender stepped back, glaring at Thomas. He pulled a cold can from underneath him and set it on the counter. "There."

Thomas placed his note on the table, "And you owe me $4.60."

The man glared at him. After the two had handled the change, Thomas pushed with one hand and sent the can sliding across the counter to Eliza. She grabbed it firm, turning to stare at him stunned. He knew it wasn't because of the slide.

"What was that?" She asked.

"Nothing," he sat down in the same seat. "I got you your drink."

"You didn't have to tell him off," She said, looking accusing towards him. He didn't understand when girls were like this. They should be thanking him, not scolding him.

"Well, I wanted to," was what he answered. "He deserved it."

She let out a small scoff, shaking her head and looking down at the drink in her hand.

"Okay, Thomas," she pulled the can open and brought it to her lips. "Whatever makes you happy."

After that, two of them simply sat there in silence. Although both of them could detect the warm smiles on each other's faces, that stayed on for the rest of the evening.

:::

Angelica's large grin had faded to something soft and ghostly, in less than a minute. She stepped out into the cooling night air, ignoring the rise of goosebumps on her skin as she took a seat next to Alexander. She was still in her silky pale-pink dress, deprived of sleeves.

And he was still in his tux, which was now a worn out, ripped and faintly stained.

"People probably think we're freaks, coming outside in our fancy clothes," Angelica noted. She felt his presence consuming half of her mind, saw his mouth quirk into a smirk from the corner of her eye.

"Huh," he scoffed. "Yeah."

He ran his dried-bloody hand back through his hair, which was twice as messy as usual. There were stains of things Angelica couldn't put a name to, clumped up in his hair.

She let out a small laugh at this.

At the sound of her laugh, he turned to her, eyes curious and wide.

"What?" He asked, but there was a laugh in his voice too.

"Nothing," she said through her laughter. "It's just... you're a mess right now. And not just because of your hands."

A grin overwhelmed his face at this.

"Well, can you blame me?" He said.

"Yes, actually. I can."

"That's true."

Angelica laughed harder at this. She felt tears fill her eyes at the effort, but her face wouldn't break out of its grin.

She realised five minutes too late that Alexander was watching her. She stopped laughing, and looked away.

"Sorry," she said, but still smiled small. "I'm just ... in a weird mood."

"Hey. What do I tell you?" Alexander said, drawing her to look at him again. His eyes were as warm as ever, as sparking and cunning as they had always been. "I like your laughter. In fact, I love it."

She felt a warmness in her, as he said this. More silence passed. They just kept watching each other.

It was then that Angelica noticed the scar on his face—slashed right across his cheek and red enough that it was visible through the plaster that covered it.

"Oh. Your face," she heard the wince in her own voice, hand reaching out to touch the dried slash. "I didn't... I didn't see the cut before."

Alexander blinked, as if remembering himself what had happened.

"Ahh, yeah. That," he cleared this throat. He seemed nervous about the wound, but didn't stop leaning into her touch. "Glass, from the punch bowl."

"Does it hurt?"

He thought about that for a moment. Eventually, he shrugged, "Well, I'm assuming it did," he said, matter-of-factly. "But I can't feel anything when you're here with me."

Angelica smiled.

"You," she took her hand, that had been tracing his dried cut, and tapped his nose with her forefinger. "are such a cheesy idiot. I love it."

He laughed, "Thank God."

That was when a blast of wind decided to blow over them. Angelica sucked in a sharp breath, as the cold bit her.

"Dammit," she hissed.

Alexander looked down at her bare arms, and then back up at her. His eyes shined, as if he had made up his mind about something.

She realised too late what he was doing, and couldn't stop him from taking off his jacket.

"No, no, no!" She cried, shoving him away. "Don't you dare."

"Too late," he taunted, and tried to bring it up around her shoulders again. "You're wearing this."

"I am not," Angelica defied, but couldn't find the heart to take off the comfy thing. She swore foully. "Alex, you're a snake."

"You love me for it," he replied, smiling out at the city in front of them.

She chuckled, shaking her head, "Yeah... I do..."

Alexander's arm made its way around her torso, and she leaned into him, smiling like the city lights. Peace was a blanket over them.

"So what does this mean?" She asked. She felt her black curls being tousled over her eyes, felt his hand rubbing her back soothingly.

"I don't know," Alexander replied, not looking at her. "What should it mean?"

There was a moment of quiet, as they both thought of a rightful answer to this.

"It means that we still have a lot to figure out," Angelica answered finally, slowly. "And... although we love each other, we should take it slow. For Eliza's sake. She doesn't deserve to be moved on from so easily."

"No. You're right," Alexander muttered.

"Okay," Angelica said. "And also ... no more secrets."

He smiled at this, "No more secrets."

"Forever. We tell the gang everything now," she went on. "We can't afford to go through another horrible phase like this."

He chuckled, "Yes, yes. Everything. I promise, no more secrets."

She sighed out a smile, "Good boy."

She fell into a peaceful quiet, as beautiful as the one she had had with Thomas. Again, she wished this moment would never end. She wished to stay like this, right here with Alexander, for forever. Seeing only the city lights, the sky, and the stars.

More wind blew past them. Angelica pulled his jacket tighter over her and rested her head, feeling warm and content. There was some rips on the jacket, which let through a slip of wind, but she didn't care. It was the best she was going to get.

And she found, that she didn't want anything else.

She fell asleep on Alexander's shoulder, feeling his warmth and humming the tune of a forgotten song. Darkness consumed her, and she found herself spinning in a pool of stars and memories, and the greatest thing of all.

Love.