Rule #19: Be careful with what you deduce, some people hide things for a reason

3 hours couldn't have felt shorter to Saera.

Everything felt like a rush.

After the bride and groom walked out of the wedding hall, everyone was ushered outside to mingle. In that gap of time, Mark had managed to drag Saera around the garden, charming people with his witty chatter and entertaining stories.

It left her in awe.

"How come you were never that friendly with me?" She complained.

Mark shrugged, "None of these people tried to commandeer my investigation because they were psychic."

"Oh come on, you secretly love it." She joked.

He didn't have a response to that.

Then dinner came around.

It was full of them both, seated at a table with 6 other people and yet it was like the two of them were in their own private bubble of inside jokes and funny stories. 

It was of Mark telling stories from when he was a rookie cop and almost shot Jackson's foot off.

It was of Saera reminiscing about the time she called Youngjae in sick from school so that they could stay home and watch movies.

It was Saera covering and smacking Mark on the arm repeatedly, begging him to stop making me laugh before I choke to death.

It was Mark making bets with Saera on how many people would try to hit on them within the hour.

It was Saera pressing her shoulder against Mark's as they tried to throw decorative rocks into the vase holding the centerpiece.

It was Mark hiding his smile behind his glass of water while watching Saera tuck strands of her hair into her bun before she took aim.

It was Saera pointing out each person from her school and telling him about them.

It was how Mark's arm always came around the back of her chair when he spotted Hae Jung looking at her.

And it was the butterflies in her stomach whenever his fingers grazed her skin.  

And it was the strange sweat on his palms whenever she smiled at something.

And it was a whole lot of confusion as the bride gathered all the girls up for the bouquet toss.

-----

Non, Rien de rien
(No, nothing of nothing)

He stood in his trailer and stared at the lifeless, dismembered, corpse laying on the ground in front of him as his favourite song played softly behind him. It was a blank canvas for him to work on. Or more like a reverse canvas, where he takes off what other people put on.

Non, Je ne regrette rien
(No, I regret nothing)

He hummed softly to the song under his breath as he picked up a piece of cloth and dosed it with  liquid before crouching down next to the body.

Ni le bien qu'on m'a fait
(Not the good things that have been done to me)

He lifted the head and sat down on the ground before gently wiping her eyelids. He made sure to be gentle, not to hurt her. He watched as the thick purple shadow melted away with his touch.

His cleansing, purifying touch.

Ni le mal tout ça m'est bien égal
(Nor the bad things, it's all the same to me)

He continued cleaning her face methodically until it was in its rawest, most natural form. He was collecting the tainted beings and doing a universal service by cleaning them up. He was making them good again. He was putting them back together, after taking them apart. He was fixing them.

C'est payé, balayé, oublié
(It's paid for, swept away, forgotten)

Once she was clean, he took a moment to appreciate her beauty. She was so flawless and perfect that she almost looked real. He could feel the giddiness bubbling in his stomach just thinking about the reaction of the person who was to find her. Maybe this way, they'd see his work and what he was capable of. Maybe he'd finally be welcomed.

Je me fous du passé
(I don't care about the past)

He shifted her hair to hide the small nicks behind her ear and near her temples and smiled at her. She was such a pretty thing and she was so lucky that he found her and saved her. Her untouched beauty was breathtaking. Too bad he had to change her. That was one thing he didn't like. He didn't like that he had to manipulate her to match the ones he was looking for, but it was worth it.

Mes chagrins, mes plaisirs
(My troubles, my pleasures)

This one was special, more so than the rest. She was the first gift that he made for someone other than himself. That's why he spent more time picking and choosing his art piece. In fact, he had prepped this one for a few weeks.

So he really hoped that the recipient appreciated the gesture.

Je n'ai plus besoin d'eux
(I don't need them anymore)

He slowly brought over the metal box and set it down in between his legs before slowly the different parts in the box. Once he stacked everything in an orderly fashion, he made sure to keep the head for last. He set it on top before carefully setting her golden locks to fall effortlessly on over the rest of the contents.

Je repars à zéro
(I start again from zero)

He stood up and stared at his work, immense satisfaction expanding through his system. It was probably one of his best work to date. Although there were kinks along the way and even though certain patterns were broken, he was proud. He had cleaned up another filthy soul and stripped away the dirty mask that these souls were hidden behind.

Job well done.

Car ma vie, car mes joies
(Because my life, my joys)

He ceremoniously closed the box by setting the silver lid on top before he grabbed some of the purple ribbon that he used to tie around her neck with a bell and used it to wrap around the box, tying a pretty little bow on top.

Once it was done, caressed the side of the box before gathering up the bloodied cloths and tarp and tossed them away before turning back to box. He carefully lifted it up before walking outside. He went over to his car and set the box in the back of the vehicle before walking back into his trailer to turn his radio off.

Aujourd'hui, ça commence avec toi
(Today, it begins with you)

-----

"I can't believe this." She muttered angrily while slamming the flowers on the table.

Mark chuckled and watch the scowl deepen on her face, "Why? Don't most girls like when they catch the bouquet?"

When Seung Mi was gathering everyone up, Saera had tried to hide behind Mark, but because of the jerk that he was, he stepped away just as Seung Mi walked by, resulting in the girl being dragged by a drunk woman in $10,000 dress.

"Not me." She grumbled while dropping down on her seat with her arms crossed over her chest like a pouty child. "It's bad luck."

Mark looked at her incredulously, "How? I thought it was the exact opposite."

Saera picked up the white flowers and aggressively waved them in his face, "The pressure. In the next six months I need to get married and that sort of time limit causes women to marry the first guy they see."

Mark pushed her hand away and quirked his brow, "I doubt women actually let a bouquet determine who they marry. I think you're just being a party pooper."

"No, you are!" She retorted childishly before sticking her tongue out.

Once Saera had caught the bouquet, everyone had taken to the dance floor and just as Saera suggested that they do the same and just let loose, the song changed quickly into a ballad.

Which surprised her since the slow songs normally go at the end, but then she saw Seung Mi walking away from the DJ and realized this was her request.

Saera was about to slip out of her shoes and wait for the song to pass when she felt Mark tugging on her elbow.

She looked up at him and frowned, "Can I help you?"

"Stand up for a second." He said while he continued to tug on her.

Saera closed her eyes and groaned before hauling herself up. Before she could ask him what he wanted, he was dragging her off to the dance floor.

Her eyes were as wide as saucers as she tried to keep up with him, "What are we doing?"

"We're dancing." He said as he wove her through the crowd until they were in the middle of the floor.

He stopped the both of them and turned to face her with a small smile before offering his hand to her. Saera rolled her eyes playfully and slapped her hand down on his.

"Did you learn this at the academy?"

Mark pulled her towards him, "Between the streaking and training, yeah."

Saera smiled slightly and let go of his hand to wrap them around his neck, when he stopped her.  He took her hand and held it firmly before wrapping his other one around her waist.

She looked at him, bewildered but his face was serious as he pulled her closer to him so that their bodies were touching. Saera resorted to staring intensely at his neck as a distraction.

She had slow danced before, when she went to school dances when she was young but this was different to her.

She had never waltzed before.

Mark started swaying her from side to side as his fingers tightened around her hand as they fell into a comfortable rhythm.

She followed him awkwardly, unsure how to move against him until she felt his lips at her ear, "Relax."

That was all it took before her muscles melted and her head fell comfortably at his collarbone. It was strangely calming to have her cheek pressed up snugly against his neck. Even her eyes were turning half-lidded as she let him lead.

Neither of them spoke and even though there were other couples on the floor and music playing in the background, Mark couldn't hear any of it. He just kept dancing and he was pretty sure Saera was one minute away from falling asleep on his neck.

She jolted when she felt a sudden sensation on her knuckles and slowly pulled her head away from his collar and blinked up at him, her eyes widening a fraction when his eyes were already on her. His head was bent down and hers was craned up as they stared into each other's eyes.

He was slowly dragging his thumb across her fisted hand in comfort as he watched her with attentive eyes, as if he was focusing solely on her. She was a little taken aback that she didn't even realize that his forehead was pressed against hers.

He slowly