Chapter 7: Thorne

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Cress was at dinner.

It wasn't an entirely dramatic moment. It wasn't that strange, really. But Thorne-and everyone else at the table-knew that this was a good sign. It was as if all their virtual get well cards had bunched up together, and finally made it true.

She was wearing a pale blue dress, which flared around her as she walked and made a lump grow in Thorne's throat. The past few months had been terrible, Cress seeming great one day, unstable the next. Her hair was neatly swept to the side, tied in a knot at her shoulder, and Thorne forced a grin when she approached him.

Dinner sped by fast, and everyone gave them looks when it was over, both happy and suggestive. Thorne ignored them, watching Cress carefully. She was... different, he thought, catching the way her eyes didn't look at him the same way, her posture, the way she spoke. The old Cress had always smiled at him, and spoken so gently he had no choice but to be charmed by her, but this Cress.. this Cress was almost stiff, more wild. She laughed at jokes that the old Cress would never have laughed at, and there was no hint of compassion in her eyes like the old Cress did. Thorne had half a mind to call her New Cress.

That night, when he went back to his room after a long talk with Scarlet about Cress, he stopped in front of Cress's door. Raising his hand to knock, Thorne hesitated. Don't be ridiculous, he consoled himself, this is Cress. The girl you trust more than anyone else, remember? He steeled himself and knocked, holding his breath when his fist met loudly with the wood. No one replied.

He let go of his breath, exhaling in relief. She was probably sleeping already; he wouldn't have to face her today. That was for the best, he didn't really think he could face her even if he had to.

He went back to his room, drifting asleep around midnight. His last thought was of Old Cress's smile.

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New Cress was so different, now that Thorne had started looking out for those differences. She was currently in the library, her light hair tucked behind her ear as she read a thick novel that was undoubtedly a classic. Funny, Thorne thought, I don't remember her liking those before. He was sitting in the chair beside her, his eyes constantly flicking over the top of his book(a comic) to her.

Cress's eyes skimmed the pages, her face expressionless, and Thorne wondered what she was reading. "What's that?" he asked, pointing to the book that she seemed to be positively devouring. Cress's eyes looked up at him, and he saw a faint tinge of annoyance in them, before she shook herself and replied back,"Wuthering Heights. By Emily Bronte."

Thorne grunted, not recognizing the name, and took the book from her hands gently. She protested a little, and shot him a look. "I need that," she snapped. Thorne pressed his lips together, frustrated.

"Can I take you on a walk?" The words escaped from his mouth before he could stop them.

"What?" Cress's gaze shifted a little, and she looked unsettled. "I...." She hesitated, then scrambled for the classic in Thorne's hands. "No!"

Thorne raised the book out of her reach, raising his eyebrows. "I say we take a walk," he decided, setting the book on the highest shelf he could reach. "What about you?"

Cress gave up, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes. "What about me?"

"Great, a walk!" He enthusiastically pulled her up, ignoring her resistance, and dragged her out of the library. She finally stopped pulling away once they reached the intricate gates of the entry to the garden, and she gazed around, wide-eyed. "It looks so more beautiful during the day," Cress breathed.

Thorne frowned, his eyes scanning her face. "You've seen it at night?" His heart sped up. Had she heard his conversation with Scarlet yesterday?

Cress tore her gaze from the garden, and finally met his eyes. "I....No!" She said quickly, her gaze uncomfortable. "It's... um, something I see from my window." Her eyes shifted, and she looked away. "Can we go in?"

Thorne dragged his eyes away from her, and let go of her arm. "I don't want to tour the gardens. I want to talk to you."

Cress's eyebrows shot up. "Talk to me? About what?"

Thorne shook his head. "What's wrong with you? You've been acting so-"

He was cut off by Cress shoving her portscreen into his hand. "Look it up. In the dictionary. Independence. It's actually a thing, Thorne."

Thorne shook his head. "Don't avoid the question. That's not what's up- you've never acted this way before. You're so... distant."

Cress ignored him and inspected a pale violet flower, twisting around the gate. "This is really pretty!" She murmured enthusiastically, shooting Thorne a look that seemed to say, Please stop talking about this. Thorne sighed, picking up the flower and twisting the stem around his fingers.

"I just don't understand. Nothing is the way it should be, it's all supposed to be... well..."

Cress shot him an exasperated look. "Perfect? Well, it's not, quite obviously."

Thorne shook his head. "Not perfect. But... better. Not like this."

Cress averted his gaze and turned to a dark navy flower. "This is so-"

"Stop !" Thorne grabbed her arm, stepping in front of her and meeting her eyes intensely.

"I'm not," Cress muttered, but her eyes trailed away from him guiltily. "And let go."

He did, letting his hand drop awkwardly between them. "Okay. Fine, then." He turned away, stepping away from her.

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The fires started at midnight. All over the palace, smoke and dust billowed in the wind, catching on the wood. The windows, curtains, and the end of his bed were flaming, the fumes making him choke and grasp for the glass of water by his bed, trying to douse out the furious flames around his room. The water sizzled on the embers, then was overpowered by the fire...And Thorne realized something.

It's not real, He realized with a jolt, it's glamoured! At that moment, Cinder crashed into the room, the ends of her mousy brown hair burning, and her eyes angry and red."Rebels," she shouted to him from across the room, and closed her eyes, intercepting the mind of whoever was creating the glamour, and making the flames vanish. Thorne relaxed visibly, collapsing back onto the bed. "Is everyone else okay?"

Cinder nodded, calming herself as she smoothed her hair down. "Meeting in the dining hall. Now," she gasped, directing her anger at the ceiling. "Oh, stars, whoever did this is asking for an execution." Yet Thorne knew that Cinder would never have the heart to condemn someone to death.

He nodded, "I'll just change and be right there."

Once Cinder had left the room, Thorne sighed in relief and changed into normal clothes, abandoning the shirt that still, somehow, smelled like smoke and ashes, though the fire had been a figment of the imagination.

As he stepped out of the room, he caught his eye in the mirror next to the door. His face looked half-asleep, and his eyes were droopy. In an attempt to comb his hair, he ran his fingers through it and left.

Cinder, Scarlet, Winter, and Kai were all in the dining hall-and Thorne, almost immediately, noticed that Cress wasn't there. The sinking feeling that something was wrong began to fill him. "Where is she?" he demanded, crossing his arms as soon as the others saw him.

Cinder and Scarlet exchanged knowing glances, and Kai and Wolf looked down at the floor awkwardly. Winter just sat, her large eyes sad and forlorn. No one replied.

"Where is she?" His voice began to rise, and his hands shook, trembling as he gripped his fists.

"She's gone," Cinder finally muttered, her eyes not quite meeting his. Then, horribly, terrifyingly, her voice grew,"the rebels took her away."

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Hey guys!

Hope you liked that, yay! I went to San Diego in the past weekend, so I was planning this and writing this on the trip, haha. okay bye.

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