Raise a Little Hell.

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"This world will remember us"

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"Well, who would've thought that little (Y/N) would be the one to bust me out," Varian teased, a smirk tugging at his lips, his hands handcuffed yet relaxed on his laps.

His raven hair was tangled into a hot mess, and his blue eyes were piercing, their once soft hue reduced to a sharp and icy tone. His feet were crossed at the ankles, which were bare and skinny. His apron and gloves had been stripped of him, leaving him in a ratty teal shirt, and a pair of thin trousers, which were ripped at the ends. His goggles sat slightly lopsided on his head, and the carelessness of it made your heart jump a little. Still, however, you retained your hardened and slightly flirtatious demeaner, with your arms crossed in a nonchalant pose over your chest.   

"Laugh all you want, freckles, but I suggest you make it quick. The guards won't stay asleep for long," you retorted, your arms repositioning themselves and settling down in the same place.

Varian let out a short laugh, cold and harsh as it was, and stood up. He had grown in the years he had been in the cell, standing at a good five or so inches taller than you. His face was leaner and sharper, due to lack of food, which made him look older and more intimidating.

He stood over you, his eyes looking down at yours. He was cute before, but here... now he looked hot. Your heart jumped into your throat, and you gulped it back, staring back at him.

"The chains, Varian," you smiled, twirling the keys on your finger.

His eyes darted over, his expression remaining blasé and infuriating. You had suspected that he would have hardened, you had suspected that he'd be different. But... this... he'd changed. He'd changed more than you knew, and part of you liked this part of him. Saying that, part of you hated it.

He held out his arms, and you spotted red marks going up and down his arm. They weren't cuts, or burns, more like bruises, like fingers seared into his skin. You grabbed his wrist harshly and pulled them towards you, yanking Varian with them. He ended up closer than you'd have liked, but you couldn't push him away. You couldn't let him get the upper hand. So you fiddled with the lock, hyperaware of his eyes on you. After a moment or two the chains dropped to the floor, and you looked up, a compound smile of both a teasing and hard look on your face.

"All finished," you said, your eyebrow raised.

His eyes were on yours, his blue gaze on your (E/C) stare. Your eyes were wide, and his were relaxed, a smirk playing on his face, which was evident through his expression. He brought his eyes down to your lips slightly, before flicking his eyes up and walking over to the open cell door, rubbing his wrists.

"After you, milady," he purred, your once soft and endearing nickname, now weaponised and suggestive. Again, you shook the warm feeling from your chest, and pushed past him into the stone corridor of the castles prison.

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"Run, damnit, run!" you yelled to your companion, yourself jumping over logs and weaving through trees. Incoherent shouts echoed from behind you as you sprinted away from the guards, your (H/C) billowing behind you as you sped through the forest. Varian was slightly behind you, himself weighed down by a bag full of stolen clothes that was slung over his shoulder. Still, light as he was, he was making decent pace against the guards.

In the distance, you could see an upturned tree, its roots sticking up, acting as a wall. You grimaced and glanced behind you. The guards were definitely following you, but you couldn't see them, meaning they couldn't see you.

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