Sofia sat near the study table. Her feet were propped upon the chair she sat on and her chin rested on her knees. As the dawn drew closer and gusts of relieving cold air slid in through the open window, she snuggled her legs further closer to her body and then went back to staring at the oblivious guy sprawled on her bed.

Max's body imposingly was settled on her old, queen-size mattress as though he had claimed it as his own, even in his unconsciousness.

She moved her face as the flowing, shrill curtains at her right tickled her cheek as a stronger blast of wind hurtled inside. In deep thought, she looked out the window and noticed the white and blue spark of lightening in the distance. It lit the sky enough for her to locate the thick herd of clouds looming closer. The steady growth in the strength of wind predicted a storm, the first one of the season.

Another lightening slit the sky in half, this time closer than before, and so the grumble could be heard. An ice cold draught invaded the room without notice, it made her loose hair fly up and stay suspended above her shoulders for a few seconds. The next second, the thunder caused the room to fill with blinding light for a moment before her heart skipped a bit due to the cracking noise.

When, all of the sudden, the window flapped open to slam against the wall of her room with terrible force and the curtain almost reached the ceiling, instantly, Sofia sprang out the chair and reached the window in two big leaps. It was quite a task to close the window against the adamant wind and cold slaps of chilling rain water but she managed it with gritted teeth.

Moaning sounded behind her at the same time as she released a huff of breath.

Sofia spun around, but there was no way she could see in the now inky darkness. The posts around her old style bed rattled slightly and she guessed that Max had probably risen from his beauty sleep by the calls of thunders.

"What—" his croaking voice filled with expected confusion was cut in rudely by a set of quick thunders.

"Now, don't get scared, big boy. I'm here," Sofia announced loudly, so that her voice could be heard over the noise of the wrecking rain-storm outside.

Her bare feet padded ahead on the cold floor, slightly moist from the rain water that burst in earlier before she could close the window. With her hands raised before her, she moved towards the direction where she knew was the bed. She stopped by midway and felt for the light switch on the wall, only to sigh in disappointment when light didn't shine like it was supposed to. The dark still remained.

"Blasted power-cut. Blasted storm," Sofia cursed under her breath.

"Sof? Is it you?" Max's still confused voice laced with anxiousness asked. "Where am I? Where are you?"

It was not a nice time to lose important memories and ask for answers, when the only sensible person in the room was apparently recognizing the pain of blind people.

She began her journey towards the bed again, but stumbled over something solid on the floor. It was Max's shoe, she realized, while flying ahead and bumping hard against the bedpost. "Urp."

"What happened?" Max cried and the bed shook as he moved. "Why can't I see?"

"Because it is dark, no one can see in the dark, you wasted ox! And you're in my grampa's territory, in my freaking bed. Stop moving!" Sofia chastised him when the bed shook with more force, he was probably attempting to climb out of it and go for a blind adventure. Thankfully, the movements paused at her command.

She held onto the now steady bedpost and climbed up the bed but yelped when she sat down, realizing she had sat on Max. Damn it!

Max probably just wanted to help, but in the dark, he only succeeded in shoving her away and into the lump of her comforter face-first.

"Oomph."

"Sorry!" Max murmured an apology.

Wordlessly, Sofia straightened to a sitting position and moved her face towards where his voice came from. She yelped again when unexpectedly his warm hands slid around her feet, his approach gentle this time as though he was in fear of shoving her away again. She was stiff but didn't complain when he brought her feet into her lap and just held onto them, kneading softly every once in a while. As time passed by in silence, she exhaled a breath and sagged against the bedpost behind her.

"Don't you recall anything?"

A tiny second of pause later, he breathed out, "I do now."

"Argh," he groaned a while later. "It's humiliating. I declared it like a common statement—in front of everyone! What must they be thinking?"

Well, people thought about the incident in different lights. While the elders were baffled and mortified, some people on the other hand found it extremely funny—the gang-leader of them—Neil, no wonder. After the men carried her lug of a husband into her room and settled him on the bed, Neil had laughed his ass off at the bedside while others took Sofia aside to drill her with obvious questions. When Sofia stated that it was their personal matter and was nothing to be worried about, everyone mercifully left her alone—but not before throwing unconvinced looks. She was expecting separate phone-calls of couple counseling from her grampa and father in-law soon.

However, Max didn't have to know all that at the moment. He already sounded way too crushed to need the details. Also, she had far more dire inquiry in hand.

"Is it true?" she asked.

There was a small, awkward silence before he rumbled out in a sheepish tone, "That I was a virgin until the night we became one? Yes, it is."

"Max," Sofia bit her lip, huffing out a breath, disbelief in her tone. "I'm not that old-school to want in today's age—a husband as pure as a freaking holy lamb. It doesn't matter that you've been with other women before me, because that is clearly not the main issue here but the fact that you were so close to cheating on me out of an extraordinary lot of malice—"

"You don't believe me," Max scoffed from the darkness. "You think that I'm lying? I'm not, Sof, I'm so not."

"But—" Sofia bit her lip hard, aware that her teeth were so close to drawing out blood. "You've been away studying—and you lived alone, and of course, you yourself told me that you dated women before. You're a guy! And they say guys got needs."

"F*cking who says that?" he scoffed again, this time louder. "It's a choice, Sof. How is it that girls being virgin until marriage are said to be virtuous while it is a completely different case with the guys? This is gender discrimination!" he about bellowed over a growling thunder. "And I can't believe, you too, like everyone else think the same."

A minute passed by after that life-changing outburst of his.

"I do not," she denied uncomfortably. "However, you almost sound like Edward Cullen, Max," she uttered, finding her voice. She had got her own sweet Twilight it seemed, and it was crazy she could think this way at a moment so crucial. Turns out she was weirder than she'd ever imagined herself to be.

"No. I sound like a man who've been in love with someone for so long, and subconsciously have been waiting for her."

Dead.

She believed she was dead for a moment or so after he slaughtered her heart with the sweetest of poisons. No wonder she was addicted to this man, utterly and irrevocably so.

"Sof?" he called for her after a long while of dizzying silence, as they heard the storm rampaging outside.

"Hmmm..."

"Come home."

He sounded... helpless.

And Sofia held her breathe. Her heart broke at the tone of his voice knowing that his heart was in pain too.

"I need some space, Max," she said softly but with conviction, and felt his fingers tightening around her feet. "But know that I'll come home, soon."

"Do you...," he stumbled over his words. "Do you hate me after last night?"

She shook her head but then realized that he would not be able to see. "I hate the time when you hated me, I hate the fear that I felt knowing it, but not you. I can never hate you, even if I try to with all that I have."

"You left," was his small voice. The accusation almost drowned into the roars of thunders.

Sofia sensed his need to gather all the reassurances he could.

"Not for ever, Max. I did send you a text that said I'm staying at grampa's for a few days."

"I read it, and it bloody damn sounded like you were sugarcoating the topic of leaving me," he was wheezing out rapid breaths now.

"I," Sofia stammered. "I tried calling you but your phone—"

He exhaled a shattering sigh. "My phone's been in pieces in front of a wall since I woke up and read your text this morning."

There is something extreme in having a dire conversation in the dark. When you can't see the other person's face, it's easier to exhibit deepest emotions that you usually feel insecure to let loose in light. Heart comes to the forefront and feelings escalate tenfold in dark.

In this inky darkness, deep down to her bones Sofia felt the fright that Max might have felt reading her words. It was in the way he breathed; in the way he spoke angrily and abruptly, and sighed and held onto her feet like she was his very anchor and he didn't want to drift off.

"Argh..."

Sofia leaned forward hearing him groan in what felt like pain. "What is it? Max, are you alright?"

"My head—it's been like a sawmill whirring inside it since I woke up."

Of course, the hangover.

"That's your prize for getting drunk. You should have told me sooner." She tried taking back her feet from his clutch but that only made him tighten his hold.

"Where're you going?" rang his alarmed voice.

Sofia sighed. "To get candles, they are probably in my desk's drawer."

"I can bring them. You'll get hurt in the dark."

Chivalry, even in his present condition!

Already, he had a small potato on his forehead. She would be damned if she let more companions added to it.

"It's my room and I know my way around it better than you," she declared indignantly, finally prying her feet free and climbing out the bed and the warmth of him.

"I heard you falling earlier," he pointed out.

"It was because of your blasted shoe!" A thunder boomed along. Even the mother-nature was in tune.

He didn't argue anymore, and she reached her desk. After shuffling through the things inside the drawer she found the candles and a lighter, and also a little bottle of aspirin. She thanked her lucky stars that she had kept those aspirins there earlier this afternoon after taking two of them to treat the splitting headache she had acquired from all the emotional drama, stress and overworking.

As she lit a candle, the yellow light made her squint after being so long in darkness. She made her way back.

Max sat with his back against the headboard, she saw. And he was staring at her with an intricate mix of solace and unrest.

He had been looking unhinged since the moment he stepped foot into the Haydens' tonight, now awakened and without the influence of alcohol he moreover looked defenseless.

It shook her to the very core witnessing to what extent he could be affected by her.

Thankfully, alongside her old china glass, there was a jug on the bedside table with a little bit of water left in it. She poured all the water in the glass and when she took his hand and put two tablets on his palm, he gulped them down obediently with the water. A droplet of water hung at his bottom lip. It shone in a creamy hue and sparkled as the candle's flame flickered mischievously.

Sofia couldn't help it. Like a moth she reached forward, wiping off that droplet with a smooth swipe of her thumb. Under the pretense of this innocent action though, she took the chance to feel his lips—chapped up, and warm, and inviting. Those lips needed to be moisturized and she could very well provide it—through some thorough licks.

There, gutter brain with all its glory. Fantastic.

"You've that look on your face," Max commented, making her brain snap back into place.

"What look?" She attempted nonchalance and was about to remove her hand, but of course he had to catch her wrist halfway.

"The one," his voice climbed down an octave into the kind of breathy whisper, that many times in the past week had made her shiver first, and scream, and writhe later. "You know..., when you want me to want you, so bad."

How could he read her so well? Really.

"Stop trying to seduce me!"

"Is it working?" he raised a brow. "Of course, it is."

She sighed, frustrated. But then, she slid her hand out of his calmly and placed it lightly on the side of his face, feeling his stubbly jaw under her palm. He exhaled a pleased breath and dragged her down on the bed to sit beside him.

"I meant it when I said I need some space, Max. We both need it, for the sake of ourselves. We can't live under the same roof while these horrid rifts from our past still remain alongside, lurking in the shadows, leaping out from time to time and hurting us both. Until how long we'll stay suspended like this before we crumble into pieces, beyond repair? I'm tired of hurting like this, Max, and I'm tired of seeing you hurt. I love you, but I love myself too. Therefore, I don't ever want to let any past, any fear or insecurity make me into something that I'll grow to hate someday." She breathed and held his face a little bit tighter when he closed his eyes. He knew it was true, he knew it too. She smiled when he pressed his face more into her palm. "When I return to you, I want to return to stand with you on a ground stronger than ever."

He opened his eyes and looked at her. "And when you do, I'll never let you leave me again. I'll bind you to my side until one or both of us die."

She chuckled, emotions pooling in her eyes. "Now, now..., it sounds a little too much extreme."

"It's so that I don't lose my mind again and nearly have a heart attack," He smiled sadly. "And also so that I don't burst out into the streets after devouring a gallon of scotch, and search for my wife like a madman, while also announcing extremely private matters to people—in the most scandalous way."

The storm had stopped it's destruction outside by then, and dawn broke through. However, the birds sounded hesitant with their chirping outside. It seemed like they didn't know whether to rejoice the sunrise or mourn the nests they'd lost in the disastrous storm.

After staring at Max wordlessly for a long time, Sofia spoke with urgency, "You scared me. Please don't drink so much again. Promise me you won't?"

"I thought I lost you," he said instead of giving her the promise.

"Oh, Max!" she didn't know how at this rate was she going to send him back home after breakfast, like she had planned mentally. For this bipolar buffoon was a master in discovering ways to return to her and those ways usually never were subtle.