I draw in a stiff breath as my eyes flicker open, first noticing that somehow I had drawn the covers to my chin as I had napped, my room much colder than it was before.

I sit up in my bed and glance over to the sliding glass door I had left open. Gone are the golden rays of sunshine that lit up the sky, replaced with a deep shade of sapphire.

I decide to get up and walk over to my wooden dresser, pulling one of the drawers out to grab a cigarette and my metal lighter. As I walk over to the balcony, I light the cigarette, my eyes on the golden city beyond.

I let out an appreciative sigh as my elbows hit the cold metal of the railing, a tendril of grey smoke exerted from my lips drifts to my right as I feel the comforting warmth it ignites in my lungs.

A cough to my right startles me out of my trance, and I jerk upright when I see Beau standing on his balcony staring at me, waving the smoke out of his face.

"Bonté woman!" he sputters as the smoke floats past him, his jade eyes glowing as he stares at me in raw astonishment. "You cuss and smoke? What, do you drink too?"

I frown and lift the cigarette to my lips again, taking in another deep drag, before blowing another cloud of smoke into his face. "No, I don't drink. And I smoke for a reason... dumbass." I mutter the last part, smirking when Beau coughs again in outrage.

"Have you no manners? And what did you call me?" he challenges, crossing his arms as I realize my mistake.

"Er..." shit, cussing is like my second nature. "I merely called you-dashing," I make up, saying the first reasonable-sounding d-word that popped into my head, and severely regretting it when Beau gives me a lopsided grin.

"Dashing eh? I suppose I'll have to agree with you, though I never thought you'd be so forward mon cherie." he says, lifting a teasing eyebrow.

I scowl and give him the most scathing glare I can muster. You fucking bastard of a blackguard!

"Why do I feel like you just cussed me out in your head?" Beau asks, narrowing his eyes as I press my cigarette to my lips, giving him a mocking smirk.

"I suppose you'll never know," I joke, mimicking his words.

We stand there in silence, before Beau steps forward and leans against the metal railing of his own balcony. "So, you say you smoke for a reason? What could possibly be more important than your health? You're a snarky woman, I'm sure you wouldn't easily sway under peer pressure."

I can feel my brows draw together, as I flick the end of my cigarette, wisps of my black hair brushing against my cheek as I turn to look out over the city.

"It is not what is more important, but what I want to forget," I say after a few seconds, surprised at myself for confiding in Beau.

My eyes flick down to the street below us, as a dressed-up couple walks by hand-in-hand. The woman wears a red and white polka-dot dress, while the man wears a crisp white button-up and black slacks. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Beau's chin tilt down as he watches them too, a thoughtful look in his eyes.

"And what is it you wish to forget?" he asks softly, just as a high-pitched siren wails into earshot. I stiffen at the all-too-familiar sound, my hands gripping the railing before me as I hold on for dear life.

My body seems far away as an ambulance drives into view, peeling down the street below. My heart leaps into my throat at the sight of it, as a memory forcefully overtakes me.

Shit, not now! I think, but I'm already too far gone as reality drifts away from me, my body distant as the memory replays in my mind.

My black work boots are propped up onto a wooden dining table in the center of a room, my legs clad in navy-blue pants. I feel my fingertips brush lazily through my long black hair, as a tall ginger-haired man enters.

"Hey Medley, you bored already?" he laughs, dropping into the seat across from me.

I grin and flip him off when he reaches over and knocks my boots off the table. "Always whenever I'm here, Jackson," I jerk a thumb behind me as Jackson shares my grin. "It's when we go out there, that makes things... interesting."

Jackson laughs and set his hands behind his head as he leans back in his chair. "I hear that. Say, you have any idea where that fiance of yours is?"

My heart throbs in my chest at the mention of him, as I desperately will the memory away. I hear a sound outside of my body, trying to draw me back to reality, but the memory refuses to relent and painstakingly continues.

"Eh, he's probably cleaning his tools again, or polishing his boots for the millionth time-" I cut off when a light hand pushes gently down on my shoulder.

"Badmouthing me already? It's only 10 a.m Harp." a familiar voice jokes, and I quickly spin around in my chair to see him.

"Hey babe!" I grin, leaping up to throw my arms around him, smelling the subtle drift of his sandalwood cologne as I press my nose into his crisp navy-blue uniform shirt.

"Hi love," he chuckles, setting me back slightly to stare into my eyes with his gentle cobalt-blue ones. "You ready for another day of saving people's asses?"

I set my hands on his firm forearms and give them a light squeeze. "With you? Always-"

"and forever," he finishes for me, leaning in to press his forehead against mine, his eyes intensely staring into my soul. "Never will we part."

An awkward cough interrupts our connection, as we quickly step away from each other and look back at Jackson, whose cheeks have turned the same bright-red color as his hair.

He opens his mouth, probably to make a joke about how lovey-dovey we are, when a familiar shrill alarm above pierces our ears. Jackson laughs and gives us a humored shrug. "Well, I guess you guys will get to get out there sooner than you thought! I'll prep the ambulance!"

I give Jackson a mock-salute, before he runs off in the direction of the firehouses' garage. A hand suddenly grips mine, and I twist around-

"Harper! Snap out of it!" A voice behind me, as the memory retreats.

I find myself leaning over the edge of the balcony, my body trembling as my stark-white knuckles grip the metal railing before me in a death-grip. My wobbly legs quiver for a few seconds, before they give out and I collapse into something firm behind me as a pair of hands wrap around my stomach.

My lungs shudder as they heave in strangled breaths, my eyes beginning to blur from tears. A blade of grief repeatedly stabs through my heart as I struggle to grasp the idea that he'll never be able to hold me again.

"It's okay Harper-just breathe, it's going to be okay." The voice behind me comforts, but I can't hold back the sobs that pulse through my body.

"I-I just co-couldn't save h-him..." I wail, driving my knuckles into my eyes and twist them back and forth until white stars dot my vision. "I'm a-a failure!" I howl, rocking forward as my body racks with another wave of detrimental sobs.

"No Harper, you're not a failure. Whatever happened before... it wasn't your fault."

"Yes it was," I sniff, as a trickle of snot drips down from my nose. I take a hand and scrub it away, even though more drips down. Suddenly, I realize who the voice belongs to, and swivel around as my eyes horrifidly land on Beau.

I leap to my feet and stagger backwards, my back pressing into the metal of the railing behind me. I look past him and to my door, which is left ajar.

"How did you get in?" I snarl, shoving a finger into Beau's face, hating him even more when I notice a flicker of tenderness in his jade eyes.

"I-the door was unlocked and I was worried-" Beau's face jerks to the side as I slap him clean across the face.

"How dare you intrude into my room and attempt to touch me." I seethe, my guilt boiling into utter outrage. I grind my heel into the concrete of the balcony and jab my finger into the center of his firm chest.

"Get. Out."

Beau quickly stands, giving me a sorrowful look. "I'm so sorry Harper, but I didn't want to risk you falling over the edge so I-"

"GET OUT!" I screech, slamming my hands into his chest as he stumbles backwards towards the door. I shove him through the doorway, the force from my push sending him crashing into the wall behind him. He doesn't meet my vehement glare as I violently slam the door shut, before another sob wracks my body, and I fall to a heap on the ground against my door, my head thudding harshly against the wood.

Failure, failure, failure. Is the only word that rings through my head, as the memory of me being in his arms repeats over and over again through my mind.

***

Over the next few days, Beau didn't come to my door to wake me up for a morning run, or try to find me after one of his morning meetings. Despite this, I decided to continue to run on my own in the mornings, and spent at least two hours in the sparring room each day to try and improve my muscle memory and reflexes.

Every now and then, I would run into Agent Parks or Tauren, who were happy to spar against me and test my skills. Amber and Gus didn't spend much time in the Raven Sector complex, either going over new case file plans at their apartment, or out exploring the city of Paris and scoping out possible Serpent's Circle warehouses.

Every day around lunch Rene would always knock on my door, and we would go out to lunch together and just talk. She would ask if I'd had any recent attacks, struggles in breathing, or any extreme bursts of emotions. I had slightly opened up to the idea of answering her questions somewhat honestly, to which she would give me advice on how to control my emotions, and maintain my breathing when it ranged out of check.

Then she would ask about my efforts on attempting to build a mutual relationship with Beau, and I would lie and tell her that everything was fine and that he was being just as annoying as ever.

Though this Thursday evening, after Rene and I had finished our session, the guilt about my outburst with Beau had finally sent me over the edge.

Ever since that Monday night on the balcony, I had been in constant turmoil over whether I should be enraged that Beau had intruded into my room and touched me without my permission, or whether I should feel guilty because he was just trying to help me and make sure I didn't harm myself, and I had in turn slapped him.

I had finally come to the conclusion that he was merely doing what he thought was right, and was trying to help comfort me, even though the idea made me feel extremely uncomfortable. All Beau had ever tried to do was show me compassion, and that he just wanted to help me, even though he was a bit of a cocky jerk every now and then.

Now, I take in a shuddery breath as I raise my fist to knock on his door, soft and somber strokes of cello music drifting through the crack underneath the door. I stand there for a second with my hand lifted as I internally panic about what could happen, and whether or not I'll lose my temper again and ruin the situation before I can even apologize. I finally grit my teeth and tap my knuckles against the door, loudly enough that Beau can hear it over his cello music.

I take in another anxious breath as the cello music suddenly stops, determinedly lifting my chin as footsteps slowly tap against the floor towards me.

Enough is enough, I need to make this right.