She felt him grip her side tightly as they made their way to the staircase - well, he seemed to do most of the work as her skirts had decided to entangle her legs and render her damn near immobile. She grunted in frustration, her breath short. Once they made it to the stairs, Rowan scrambled up the first few steps, ready to collapse then and there. Of course, they couldn't do that though because they had to keep moving.

"I could hardly blame you," She said, breathing heavily, clutching at a stitch in her side. Merlin the corset was now rigid on her, making it hard for her to draw breaths. The high collar of her shirt hardly helped, and she struggled to undo the ribbon at her throat, then the first few buttons to give her the smallest bit of relief.

She looked at Malfoy, a grateful expression on her face, but it was only for a fraction of a second before her gaze moved beyond him. The water was rising, but significantly slower than the ship had been. Still, it was best they didn't wait to find out what would happen. "C'mon, let's go." She said, standing up first and picking up her skirts to wring them out. It would have been a great deal more scandalous under normal circumstances, but she frankly couldn't give a damn. The more water in her skirts the more it slowed her down. Still, she did her best to avoid eye contact with him as the water splashed on the marble steps below her.

---

He turned over and leaned against the two higher steps, his legs outstretched and his palms downturned, gripping the edge of the stairs. He watched the water below; it was rising, but with the size of room below it was taking longer to creep up the staircase. Was it the ocean causing this? Was the storm that bad? Or had someone messed with a weather charm so severely that it mimicked flood waters without a clear source? There was no way to tell now—wouldn't be until they got out of this mess alive—but Raphael knew one thing for sure: he was going to kill the person responsibly, maybe with his two bare hands if he had all of his strength by the end of this.

Breathing heavily he looked to Yaxley, who—Merlin, had apparently decided the best course of action was to begin undressing. He wanted to open his mouth and demand some decency of her, less with the hauling up of her skirts and more with the unbuttoning of her shirt, but what would be the point? Outrage wouldn't do anything except expose the fact that he was staring...

He realized his mouth had gone dry. He told himself it was from dehydration, from swallowing salt water and running without a break for the past few minutes, but it seemed to only get worse the longer he looked at her. Finally he shook his head and looked away, forcing himself to think not about the curve of her calves but the solemnness of the situation: they still had a ways to go, and there was no telling what the right way to go was.

"We have options," he managed, still struggling to catch his breath as he pulled himself back to his feet, "We can keep going, or—well, we could find a safe spot and wait it out. I don't recognize this part of the Resort."

---

As nonchalant as she was about wringing out her skirts, she was still acutely aware that he was sat below her and could likely see a gerat deal as she worked to get the water out. But it wasn't as if she could crouch or even try to rectify this decision she'd made in the spur of the moment.

Hopefully, she was already flushed from their struggle to the staircase and the blush that invaded her cheeks now as a result of her becoming self-aware of her actions. Malfoy's response told her he'd declined to bring attention to her skirts, and she immediately let them fall before glancing at him. She hadn't been here many times, so it was likely he would be the one of them to know where they were.

The fact that he didn't made her nervous, and she bit her lip, looking around. "I suppose we should find somewhere to wait it out." She responded. "Somewhere we wouldn't be trapped and could easily get outside if we needed to." Better outside than potentially trapped in a room full of rising water.

---

Raphael tried to look around the room, but his gaze kept coming back to her. At least she seemed to have some shame—she was avoiding his eye and he could make out a faint redness on her face that was darker than it had been a minute ago.

He continued up the steps, but at a casual pace. They needed to figure out where they were going before they chose to go in any particular direction, but they also needed to avoid the rising water so they didn't end up in a similar situation as last time.

"One of the upper floors has an outside pavilion that connects to another building," he said, suddenly remembering having gone up there for a drink with a few buddies earlier in the summer, "We can take refuge in one of the rooms, but we'll be able to move to the outdoors if it becomes dangerous inside."

---

Rowan followed him up the steps, this time picking her skirts up only slightly to allow her to ascend the stairs without tripping. The rushing water behind them served as a reminder of what they'd just endured and what would happen if they didn't find safety. She hastened forward, catching up with his strides and she nodded as he spoke. "Alright," she said, her mind whirling in attempts to think ahead of any sort of disaster that could befall them whilst they waited. "We can put up some barrier charms." She said, her mind automatically falling back onto her training and various spells at her disposal.

When she thought of her profession, it really should have been that she knew how to handle herself in a catastrophe - it was sewn into her title, but in reality, they never knew how a disaster would hit, and normally it was to deal with the aftermath as opposed to be thrown into the middle of one and be expected to survive. With the shipwreck, she'd been as prepared as she could be for it, but today she'd just been trying to make a little extra pocket money.

"Is it quite far away from where we are now?" She asked, though his answer was contingent upon if he knew where in Merlin's name they were in the resort in relation to the pavilion.

---

Raphael found it difficult to focus on anything as they made their way up the stairs. There were so many things they needed to prepare for, so many things they needed to consider; he wasn't sure he could wrap his brain around all of them while simultaneously fleeing for his life. He stepped to the beat of his own breathing as he climbed the stairs, a long pause between when she asked the question and when he answered.

"I think I know where we're heading," he explained, pausing so she could catch up. He found it difficult to look her in the eye, his mind caught on the moment she's pulled up her skirts and unbuttoned her shirt (though he told himself it wasn't her appearance he was caught up on, bu the embarrassment he felt for her). "Once we're on the right floor it shouldn't be far."

---

Rowan's breath came faster as she quickened her steps to match his. Why in Merlin's name was he almost at a gallop? Sure they were running from whatever could happen, but had the water was hardly rising at a pace that justified almost making her have to pick up her skirts again and sprint.

As he paused, she hastened her step to catch up. "The right floor?" She echoed, looking around.

Then the window next to her shattered.

---

Raphael nodded, but he wasn't even sure that she'd seen—or rather, didn't care if she had seen or not, because his heart immediately sank as the window blew out right beside her. He immediately moved down the steps and wrapped his hand around her wrist. He tugged her towards him, his other hand moving to the small of her back to practically push her up the steps and out of the way. He didn't stop the look her over, to see if any of the glass had cut her skin. Fear surged through him, and he moved on instinct.

"Go," he said, tugging on her wrist as he began his ascent up the stairs again.

---

She'd ducked, but that didn't stop her from getting a face full of glass. Her eyes shut, she felt him grab her, hand on the small of her back, and push. Her hands covering her face to protect from more glass, she swore as she picked up her skirts again and hurried up the stairs.

He had her wrist in his hand but she had to wrestle it back to fully make sure she didn't trip up the stairs and fall on her face. "Go!" She encouraged breathlessly. "I'm right behind you." Her hands and face burned from the cuts that had been scored into her forehead, cheeks, and hands.

Merlin help them both, if this happened to them a third time, she was declaring their pairing cursed.

---

His first priority was getting to safety. It wasn't as though there were hundreds of windows to blow glass into their faces, but there were more windows as they continued their ascent up the staircase, and Raphael eyed each one wearily as they darted past. It was only when they reached the right floor that he really stopped to look at him, and—

"Merlin," he breathed, unable to say anything else as he looked at the cuts on her face. Most of them were small, but there were plenty of them—some, he thought, that might even scar if they didn't get medical attention soon enough. His brows knitted together, thinking back to his time at Hogwarts. They'd been taught some healing spells, but nothing particularly advanced, especially in his case. He's only achieved an A in his Charms NEWT.

The sound of crashing in the distance stirred him to action, and he quickly pushed her up against the wall as a gust of wind—not strong enough of sweep them away, but enough to cause alarm—swept through the corridor. He pressed his hands against the wall on either side of her almost protectively, but made sure to keep as much space between their bodies as he could. "I can get the glass out of your face," he said, all the while eyeing the door that led into the next level of rooms, "but I'm not sure how to stop the bleeding."

---

Her eyes widened as she saw him take in her appearance, her lips parted in surprise. She didn't think the window had done much damage but from the looks of his reaction, perhaps it was worse than she had thought. Rowan raised a hand and gingerly pressed her fingers to her cheek, seeing them come away smeared with blood. Even more surprising, was the genuine concern written on his face. "It can't be —" that bad. She meant to complete the sentence, but was immediately cut off as he placed both hands on her shoulders and unceremoniously shoved her back.

A noise of surprise escaped her as her head connected with the wall, and she winced slightly. A moment later she understood his actions as a gust of wind bellowed past them. Rowan turned her head so most of the wind would glance off her face, but she was made uncomfortable by the sudden impulse to duck into him to avoid most of it. Her eyes moved to him as he spoke and she was again struck by the determined expression on his face. Another involuntary wince as he mentioned getting the glass out of her face. There was glass?

"I'll manage," she replied breathlessly, still directing herself away from the wind. "Let's just find a place and I'll take care of the barrier charms."

---

Reluctantly Raphael pulled away, and with one glance over his shoulder in the direction they came from began heading down the long corridor. He kept one hand on her lower back, an action which he told himself was not out of concern for her but a fear of getting separated from her, given that she was the one who could cast the barrier charms. Still, he couldn't deny that he was eager to get the shards out of her face as soon as possible, not only because it looked painful but because the blood smeared across her face made him queasy.

"In here," he said, as they approached a room that he knew was on the same side as the pavilion. "We can use the windows as an emergency exit, though I think we should put hardening charms on them so they won't break," he continued as he stepped through the threshold and into the room.

The decor of the room fit the beachy atmosphere: the walls were covered in a wallpaper that had subtle white shells on a blue background, and the furniture—sofa, chairs, tables, and bed—matching. He immediately pulled out his wand and turned to her.

"Are you sure you'll be able to concentrate on your spell work like... that?" he asked, a brow raised concernedly.

---

Rowan moved with him, keenly aware of his hand resting on her lower back. It was easier to focus on the stinging on her face and the blood she could feel trickling down her temple. When they made it to the room, Rowan immediately took out her wand, mirroring Malfoy. Not for the first time, she was impressed by his thinking tonight and she nodded. "Clearly much needed, given the state of us not to mention —" She gestured silently to her face, her brows knitting momentarily as she winced again.

She gave her wand an experimental swoosh through the air beside them. Golden sparks immediately emitted from it, arching through the air and drifting peacefully downward before fading away. With the confirmation that her wand was in perfect condition (thank Merlin she hadn't lost it this time around), Rowan flashed him the first smile she'd given him in a while and nodded confidently. "Would you prefer we wait for the storm to tell us how willing it is to take on those windows?" She asked rhetorically, though she said it with as little irony as she could muster.

As she glanced towards the windows, she took in their surroundings - something she hadn't expected to see for some reason. A bedroom complete with an adjoining suite; certainly nicer than anything she'd stayed in. And yet apart from those in her family, the first time she'd been alone in a bedroom with a man. Pressing her lips together, Rowan tried not to focus too much on that fact, and she went about waving her wand in complicated patterns, muttering under her breath. She traced her wand along the edge of the window before drawing her wand up and back and forth. The window gave a shimmer and there was a wooshing sound that confirmed her spells had worked.

Moving back to where Malfoy was, she finished her spells, flicking her wand upwards and releasing small glowing orbs that drifted up to the ceiling as if it were magnetic before being absorbed completely by it. "This should do it," Rowan said, still short of breath for some reason. "At least it's the best I can do."

---

Raphael rolled his eyes, quietly grateful for the opportunity to act annoyed. He didn't enjoy being with her like this—injured, vulnerable, in solemn and dangerous situations. It left him feeling uneasy—but more than that, like he wouldn't know how to act when everything went back to normal. "I couldn't just assume you still had your wits," he retorted a bit lamely, more anxious than he would have admitted about getting the windows properly sealed off.

He raised his wand alongside her and mimicked the incantations she cast, glancing over at her every few seconds to ensure he was following the proper wand motions. He remembered some of the spells from years before, and although he liked to believe he was just as skilled as her (or more) he wasn't going to risk it when disasters were her domain.

Finally the spells were cast, and Raphael lowered his wand. The room was secure, and at least for now they were safe. He let out a loud, long breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding in. "Let me remove the glass now. I've removed wood splinters from skin before, so I can't imagine it's much different," he said, moving towards her rather abruptly.

---

She'd ignored his comment before, but now that the casting was done, she felt the need to send him a withering look. Only when she turned to do so, he'd moved quite suddenly toward her. Under normal circumstances perhaps she'd have stood her ground, but given that a glass pane had just exploded in her face, she immediately stepped backward. Her heel caught the foot of the stool at the end of the bed and it took her legs out from underneath her so she dropped onto the seat involuntarily.

But he was too close now for her to stand back up. "I suppose we might as well get it over with now that we're as protected from the storm as we can be." she responded, eyeing his hand uneasily.

---

Raphael blinked when she fell backwards, but made no comment. Instead he kneeled on the ground in front of her pile of wet skirts, trying to get a good look at her face. There was glass everywhere—not many big pieces, as those had fallen out during their escape and had left in their place gaping cuts that weren't as bloody as he thought they should be. He reached out and brushed a finger against her cheekbone, the edge of his finger tracing the end of a wound where it looked like a rather large shard had torn into the skin and left an empty pocket.

"I'm not sure how much it will hurt," he admitted, his brows knitted in focus as he did his best to count them. It was difficult; even besides the larger cuts there were smaller spots where miniscule shards had obviously cut the skin, and there was no way to tell if they were still there. "Ready?"

---