This is my first fic. Just some plotless drabble. And I hope I didn't mess it up. So please read and find out if I did or not.

Disclaimer: I would dearly wish I owned AGATB and RA but sadly, I don't.

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The singing of birds fill the fresh summer air. Ann and Felicity giggle and exclaim over the vivid colours of blooming flowers. I sit with my back to them, facing the lake and the boathouse. Memories and emotions overwhelm me as my eyes dart around the clearing.

I found unlikely friendship here: from 'saving' Felicity after her meeting with the Gypsy man, Ithal, to being rewarded by a bogus friendship that turned into a genuine bond, not unlike kinship.

A strange taste of freedom at midnight: the abrupt idea of swimming in the lake, only in our chemises. Of course, it was completely absurd, and yet it felt so right.

And there was my fleeting vision of Pippa drowning, screaming, obviously frightened by death. The fear thick in my throat as I tried to save her, and being pushed away for my acts of kindness.

My heart gives a gentle shiver as I remember the encounter with a certain Indian boy behind the boathouse the first month I returned to Spence from London. I remember how the silvery moonlight streamed over his dark features; how his gaze rested on me as we stood in silence; how my voice was trapped as my body was when those warm brown eyes found mine; how a crack of a twig distracted him; how my heart ached as he raced away without a word, leaving me sighing in surprising longing.

"Gemma?" A distant voice calls a slightly familiar name. "Gemma." I feel a slight pressure on my wrist. Something tugs at my cheek. I lift a hand to shoo the feeling away. A far away mumuring resounds in my ears. A sharp feeling is at my waist. I jerk roughly. Something pulls on my eyes, no, eyelids. Sunlight pours through the crack, and I instinctively raise my arm to shield my eyes.

"Gemma!" I sit up too fast, resulting in sharp dizziness.

"What?" My lips are heavy with sleep. My eyes meet with two pairs of annoyed and amused ones.

The voice of Mrs.Nightwing snaps us all into attention. Felicity grabs my hand and hisses,"We have to return to the school now."

I feel myself nod. Felicity might as well carry me back, as my limbs are still tinted with drowsiness.

I fight my sleepiness as the classes and lectures pass by. When the last class is over, I trip up into the room I share with Ann, ignoring the chatter coming from the dining hall where the girls are all having their dinner. After flinging myself onto my bed, narrowly missing the deadly overhang that threatens everytime I slip underneath it, I fall slowly asleep. Thoughts and memories mix with my dreams; dreams about him.

I see myself behind the boathouse once again, waiting for the warmth of his eyes. I lean back, feeling a broad chest meeting with my shoulder blades. Strong arms reach around my waist, full lips pressing against my own pale ones.

The scene swirls and becomes the stables. His arms press me against him as we twirl and spin, echoes calling my name matching our tempo. Those wonderful brown eyes staring into my green ones.

We stop, but the stables still swirl around us, and I feel myself falling. Darkness follows. Flickering lights from a small fire dance around us. My hands reach up to cup his face, pulling his perfect lips towards mine. I didn't have enough, oh, no, never enough. The jeering and booming laughing of the Gypsies fill my ears.

My eyes fly open. I take a moment to figure out where I am. Ann is in her bed, snoring softly. I peer at the shadows in amazement. Have I really slept for so long? The clock on the vanity tell the time: a quarter to twelve. I lift my arms and sit up, the bed creaking slightly under me. My hands smooth the bedsheets absently, thoughts focused on my dreams. As I imagine his beautiful face, a crinkle snaps me into reality. Hands shaking, I reach under the coarse blankets, feeling the familiar texture of paper.

I snatch it from its prison and stare at it. The penmanship is rushed and slightly messy but still clear enough for my hopeful eyes.

Meet me in the woods at midnight.

Kartik... My head is spinning, filled with questions. I finger the wrinkled parchment stained with the familiar ink marks. The bed creaks once more as I stand. My gaze darts to Ann, but her snoring tells me she is still sleeping.

The hall echoes with my careful footsteps. I hurry down two flights of stairs, the shadow infested walls taunting me, but I ignore them. The coolness of the summer night welcomes me with open arms. The shadow dappled forest floor speeds by as I race through the forest, and into the clearing, where the lake and boathouse wait. I step around the moonlit lake and behind the boathouse. A crack of a twig startles me, and I look behind me, towards the lake. Nothing moves, and slightly spooked, I turn back. Something wraps around me, and I stifle a scream.

My heart thumps so fast, I fear it shall burst. I start to shiver, fearing whatever, or whomever, has caught me. When a voice murmers softly, I have to stifle another scream.

"Gemma."

I look up slowly, half fearing and half glad of what I will see.

"Kartik."

His lips curl into a lopsided grin. Those lips that tease me to kiss them.

"Good evening, Miss Doyle."

Kartik's arms are still about me, and I am surprised. Without a thought, I collapse into his chest. Tears sting at my eyes, and I let them fall, tainting his thin shirt. I feel him jump slightly at the dampness, which only makes me cry harder. Kartik moves his arms tighter around me, muscles flexing. The movement takes the breath out of my lungs, and I start to choke pathetically at the lack of air. He, in turn, pats my back rather awkwardly. I whimper slightly at his kindness.

Kartik takes pity in my melting heart, and lifts my head towards his. He brushes his dark hand across my face, brushing away my tears, brushing away all fear of him leaving me.

"Please don't cry anymore, Gemma. I'm here now, aren't I?" Kartik's gentle voice affects my already aching heart, making it ache even more. But the tears have stopped, and I take in a greedy gulp of air. I understand why he left me before, but part of me doesn't want to, if only to give me something to talk about.

"Don't leave me anymore," I whisper hoarsely.

He answers by pressing his lips to mine lightly.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you, Gem. I was worrying if the Rakshana have somehow hurt you, or worse," The moonlight bathes his dark curls in shine.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you either." I murmer in reply. I throw my arms around his neck, my feet barely touching the grass.

"Don't leave me. Never ever leave me again!" My desperate wail turns into another choke.

Kartik presses me firmly against him. "I won't. I promise you I won't."

"I missed you too much, Kartik! You don't know how much."

I feel him nod in my hair. Sobs shake me.

"Gemma, Gemma. Please, no more tears. Gemma." Kartik cups his hand around my chin, lips drifting down to mine like an angel down to earth. But he wasn't coming down to earth for a quick visit, he was saving me from Hell, and bringing me up into Heaven and into the blessed light.

My lashes brush against his cheek as I close my eyes, feeling the kiss thoroughly. His tongue traces circles on my lower lip. After a while we both pull away, gasping for breath.

"Kartik," I breathe. He pulls me into another kiss. My tongue speeds into his mouth, feeling his tongue against mine. He shifts and our lips break away slightly. Disappointment pushes at my throat. I push into him, knocking him off balance. He falls backwards, me still in his arms. Our foreheads knock together painfully, and I hear both him and I gasp.

I suddenly hear a booming laugh, sending trills to my heart. A smile tugs at my mouth, and suddenly, I feel myself shaking from laughter. Kartik lifts me into the place beside him. He sits up and wraps his arm around me. With his free hand, he examines my forehead.

"You've got a bruise," he murmers, touching it gingerly.

I lift my hand up to his forehead and take a look at it. His dark skin cannot hide the slight bruise that sits near his hairline. I brush my hand across it.

"You've got a bruise, too," I grin at him.

His eyes lock with mine for a moment, and my heart skips a beat. Suddenly, we are involved in another deep and wild kiss. Our lips are pressed fiercely together, tongues locked together. I felt as if nothing could break us apart: not society, not Mrs. Nightwing, not Simon, not even the Queen herself.

Even the ache of my heart has dulled down. It's thump has slowed down to match his. We were meant to be together, even if it is forbidden. I don't care. Not now, not ever. As long as I am in his arms, in his heart, I shall never care.

My eyes flutter open. The clouds in the distance are streaked slightly with pink and orange. Confusion settles in. Where am I?

A light touch has me sitting up, looking at him in wonder and horror.

"Gemma. I'm sorry. I fell asleep ---" Kartik stutters to a stop. I'm stunned to silence.

Worry is obvious on his face. He attempts the explaination again, "Nothing happened, I'm sure. Gemma, I'm awfully sorry. We fell asleep, nothing else happened. Forgive me, Gemma. This isn't ---" I lift a hand to stop him. Emotions rush through me, screaming through my every vein.

I clear my throat nervously. "Kartik, I'm not blaming anything on you. I know nothing else happened. I know it was all a mistake. Don't worry."

Relief crosses his features, but is soon covered in worry again. "Gemma, you should be getting back."

I remember the time. But I reach up and give him one last kiss on the lips. My kiss moves to the slight bruise on his forehead.

"A good day to you, Mr. Kartik," I murmer with a wink.

He drags me into another kiss, and twirls me away.

"A good day to you, Miss Doyle," he chirps.

I smile all the way back to Spence. My heart is almost as warm as his dark eyes.

The trip back to the room with Ann is successful. The tick of the clock catches my attention: half-past five. I sigh dreamily, and collapse onto my bed. All I can think about is his beautiful face, how his lips felt on mine. I smile in a coy fashion. His tongue.

I look towards the window and catch sight of a piece of paper. I jump up and snatch it.

Tonight at midnight. Behind the boathouse.

I hold the paper to my bosom, and look out the window. For a heartbeat, I think I see a black cloak. I smile. Kartik.

The sun peeks out behind a handful of clouds. I instinctively lift the paper up towards the sunlight. Somethings glitters underneath 'midnight'. I peer at it closely, wondering what could be there. A mark of charcoal, a mark that I mistaken for dirt. The mark is roughly the shape of a heart.

Kartik. I couldn't wait till midnight.

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WELL I edited it. Once. I'm quite a slouch.

I don't think I can do this story any more justice, and I have half the mind to delete this once and for all. (With a little click here and there..and ta-da! All gone.)

BUT BUT BUT I'll keep it here for a while longer, even if I dislike it so much. I see my writing is very different back then to now. And I see the characters all in a different light. Aishh, oh well.

I'm not asking for fabulous reviews or anything; probably just a little something from someone who notices my wonderful (gag) editing. (I wouldn't mind anyone reviewing my other fics. Just a hint - er, note.)