Baeolophus bicolor

JJ’s jaw dropped, a gasp escaping her lips. "Y/N?"

Instantly, Luke’s entire insides flood with regret.  

You worked in the Counter-Terrorism division of the Bureau. Luke first met you in training at the Academy when he joined the FBI. You had become quick allies, before graduating and moving on to your assignments.

There had been a time, in the Academy, when Luke had a thing for you, quickly reigned in by your charm. He admired your work ethic and constant ability to make him laugh.  

But everything changed once you finished the Academy.  You remained in Quantico while Luke traveled with the Fugitive Task Force, gradually losing touch.  

It was only recently, with Luke joining the BAU, that you two were able to reconnect. Now that he was stationed in Quantico full time, you actually saw each other quite frequently. At first, just in passing- a consequence of your offices being so close to one another.  But, as time went on, you started rekindling during work gatherings and even meeting for drinks after hours.  Your friendship with Luke was easy and natural.  You even were introduced to his team- who all took a quick liking to you.   

Sometimes Luke thought you were closer to Penelope, Tara, and JJ than you were to him. He cringed realizing they would never buy it. "Yeah," he confirms anyway.

"Luke," Tara said slowly, "why haven’t we heard anything about this?"

"We... wanted to take things slow,” Luke lied. “It just... sort of happened."

“Well, I mean, it’s about time. I think Pen called this months ago,” JJ said. 

Luke’s face flushed bright red. 

"We have to tell her," Tara agreed. 

“Yeah, Luke, you should bring her to Garcia’s house party this weekend. I’m sure Matt would love to meet her.”

Great. 

Luke slid off the desk he was kneeling on and nodded in confirmation, “Yeah, great idea,” he lied again. He wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans; positive this whole thing was going to bite him in the ass.

...

The next morning, Luke arrived at the Bureau early. He needed to talk to you before anyone else could.  

He had a hunch that he might be murdered today.

You were heading for the elevators when it happened. You had your head down and were 20 minutes early to work, per usual. Normally, you didn’t encounter anyone on your way inside of Quantico. But you let out a startled squeal when suddenly, someone threw their arm between the closing metal doors, forcing them to reopen. Breathless from the scare, you quickly turn to realize it was Luke. You let out a sigh of relief before playfully shoving his shoulder. 

“God, you scared me,” you said. 

But Luke didn't laugh. Instead he tugged on his shirt uncomfortably, an awkward smile on his face. 

“What’s the matter with you?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“So, uh-” how the hell was Luke supposed to casually bring this up?  “It’s a funny story really..”

“Spit it out, Alvez,” you said, you immediately could tell something was up.  Luke was never this fidgety. 

He bit his lip harshly. “The entire BAU may or may not think we’re dating-” he spit out quickly. “That’s not true-” he corrected.  “The entire BAU definitely thinks we’re dating.”

You gawked at Luke, not entirely processing what he had just told you. “What?” Your cheeks were growing hot with embarrassment. “Why?”

Luke offered a brief, cheeky smile, one that was layered with guilt. "See, now that's a funny story-"

"Spit it out, Alvez."

“-Because I told them we were.”

Without even thinking you turned and pressed the stop button on the elevator, locking the two of you into place. This conversation was going to take a lot longer than the minute it took to bring you to the fourth floor. 

“You what?” You gasped.    

“Like I said- it’s really, kind of a funny story-” 

But you cut him off. "You have ten seconds to explain before I strangle you to death in this elevator.”

Luke’s eyes widened with shock, even though that was exactly the reaction he expected.  

“Talk. Now.” You demanded, cornering him.  

"Tara was trying to set me up with one of her friends- and to get out of it I told her I was already seeing someone. When she asked who, I panicked and said you."

Your nostrils flared and Luke thought he could almost hear your teeth grinding. "Why wouldn’t you just say no to the date?" You asked. “Instead of lying?”

“Because it never stops- every gathering, every party, they’re trying to set me up.  It’s like I scream lonely or something.”

Your mouth tightened but you stayed quiet.

“I needed something that would shut them up for good.  Or at least a little while.”

"And so you said you were dating me..." 

Luke sighed. “I know it was stupid. But I’m tired of going on meaningless dates that never turn out good. I just needed a break... I mean, it's exhausting, really- and never ending. But I get it- I mean, I get it's not fair to you. But I panicked- and just reacted." God, he was blabbing. "But I’ll tell them it was a lie, I’ll go on the date-”

You crossed your arms. "You done?"

Luke nodded. You waited a moment, mulling the whole thing over in your head.

It shouldn’t be that big of a deal, right? Except, it was. Because back at the Academy, when you and Luke first became friends, you had developed a small, barely-there, tiny crush on Luke. However, now that he was stationed in Quantico and you two were seeing each other more often, your crush had only grown into a full fledged, real-life feelings.  

But the thought of Luke going on another blind date made you cringe, so without giving yourself a chance to do the responsible thing here, you blurted out a quick, “Okay.”

“Okay?” Luke said in disbelief. 

“What would I have to do?”

“Uh-” Luke stammers, like he’s still in shock. “Garcia’s party-  You could come to Garcia’s party with me.”

"Garcia’s party then," you declared. "We pretend to be together for the party."

Luke’s eyes met yours and he gave you a convincing smile. “Are you sure?”

You shrugged before pushing the button to start the elevator back up again. “Yeah, what the hell?”

…

You pulled into the driveway of Garcia’s home and both of you sat in the car, tensed.

“I’m sorry again about this. I shouldn’t have dragged you into this mess. I owe you one. I just… didn’t want to do the blind date thing and you’re the only person I’d feel comfortable doing this with and-“ 

You cut Luke off and slid your calm hand over his shaking one. You hope the small admission was lost somewhere in Luke’s rushed, jumbled apology.

“Luke, it’s fine. I wouldn’t have said yes if I didn’t want to say yes.” You squeezed Luke’s hand, gently demanding for him to look up and into your eyes.

Luke obliged.

“I’m happy to be here with you. There’s no one else in the world that I’d rather be in a fake relationship with.”

Luke thought that, ‘or a real relationship’ was hanging somewhere in the air between them. But neither of you had the courage to admit it.

You squeezed Luke’s hand again before hopping out of the passenger’s side, going to the backseat to collect the bottle of wine you’d brought.  

To say Garcia was excited to see the two of you holding hands on her doorstep was an understatement. 

“Oh my gosh,” she said, looking shocked. “Oh my gosh. You guys are so beautiful together. I always had a feeling about this. Made for each other, you two. I called this.” 

“Hi Penelope,” you said through a smile.

She waved you in excitedly, and you and Luke exchanged glances before following her into the house.

Luke carried the bags in and you carried the wine. Luke couldn’t help but think that this is probably how it would go if you two were really dating. Luke doing all the heavy lifting of the bags, and you letting your friends whisk you into the kitchen to chatter about something.

Luke shook the thought out of his head.  

...

“So tell me about how you guys got together,” JJ asked later in the night.  

Penelope’s eyes widened and she hurried to set down her glass before flailing her arms. “Oh, oh, oh!” she bounced excitedly. “I want to know too!” 

Everyone in the room’s attention turned to you. You opened your mouth to speak, but hesitated. 

While you floundered in your explanation. Luke wished he could go to you, wrap an arm around your waist, steady you and remind you that it was okay.

Luke was midway through the thought when he realized that oh… he could actually do that right now.

He crossed the room in a hurry before wrapping a steadying arm around your waist. He pulled you into his side, smiling at you as he felt you lean into his body, one of your arms snaking behind him to grip his hip. 

Luke could get used to this. 

But he won’t be getting used to this. Because this is just for the party and then you and him will go back to being just friends. 

“It uh-” Luke fumbled with his words, too distracted by the way your fingertips felt against the flesh of his hip. 

But you swooped in to save him, jumping into your story quickly. “It happened after work a little while ago. We were riding down in the elevator together and he finally just asked me out.” Luke squeezed your arm, as your voice trailed off. You looked up at him, smiling. “It was an easy yes from me, I’d been waiting for him to do that for a while- pretty much since the day we met.” You let the moment carry you through the story, let your real, raw feelings show, for once. And you hoped that Luke was listening to every word. You hoped it registered to Luke that not all of this was for show.

It took a small whimper of a sob that came from Garcia's mouth to snap the two of you from your trance. 

“Oh, you guys. I’m so happy for you both. This is wonderful. From the way Luke’s always talked about you, I figured that he was just in his own head again… he’s been head over heels for you for quite some time –“

“Oh wow, Garcia,” Luke choked on his words, his eyes wide. “That reminds me, we brought your favorite wine! Let’s get that opened, yeah?” His skin was the same shade as the Pinot Noir he was currently reaching for.

Garcia smiled and nodded, clapping her hands together before shuffling off to grab three wine glasses from the cupboard. But you were looking up at him with a blinding grin.

Just for show, Luke thought. Just for show.

Penelope returned with a handful of glasses, which she filled with a generous serving of wine and held hers up like she was about to give a toast. Luke groaned. He hadn’t anticipated how much his team would dote over his fake relationship. 

“To you, Y/N. For making my Luke the happiest I’ve ever seen him, and for so many years to come.”

You all clinked your glasses and sipped (in Luke’s case, chugged) before Garcia led them into the living room.

Luke found himself sitting on the couch listening to Rossi tell stories about his early days with the BAU.  Somewhere during the story your fingers laced together.

Luke wasn't sure when it happened or who initiated it.

But he certainly wasn’t complaining.

…

“God, how he drooled over you. I swear, his jaw dropped to the floor anytime you entered a room.”

Luke was going to kill Rossi. 

You, on the other hand, were laughing hysterically on the couch next to him. Luke was far past the mortification of it all at this point. His team had graciously taken it upon themselves to test if he could actually die of embarrassment. He assumed they’re about halfway there.

Somewhere between the stories of Luke’s desperate pining over you and your fond smiles, Luke had refilled his glass of wine.

He wished he had something stronger, because wine wasn’t exactly cutting it for him in this mess of a conversation.

You, however, looked happy.

Your second glass of wine had caused your cheeks to gently flush, while your full grin was on display. 

“Time for cards!” Garcia announced as she waved everyone into the kitchen. 

Before standing up, you leaned into Luke’s side. “You okay?" 

Your voice was soft. Luke pressed closer to you without thinking about it.

“Yeah. I-I’m fine, just… don’t listen to them, okay? JJ and Rossi are trying to wind me up, and Garcia’s just happy that I’m with someone. I promise I’m not some… some like.. I didn’t… what they said-" 

There was no way to explain what the team had said that wouldn’t result in Luke lying to you. All of those stories were true, they just sounded more pathetic when they were told all together like that.

You shook your head and grinned.

“It’s okay. Besides, if we were actually dating, I think I would be a little angry at you right now for not making a move sooner.” You winked before standing up, holding your hand out for Luke to take. 

Luke pushed himself up from the couch and linked his fingers with yours again, grabbing his glass of wine because he would probably need that to get through this night alive.

…

“She’s good for you, Luke. I’m glad that you finally mustered up the courage to ask her out.” Rossi clapped Luke on the back as he and you gathered up your things at the end of the evening.

All Luke could do was nod and smile in return.  

You, on the other hand, were in the middle of a shockingly long hug from Garcia, who was making you promise that you’d visit soon. 

Luke bites his lip, wondering if maybe this whole thing had gone too far. How was he supposed to keep up this facade when he showed up at work the next day and everyone asked about you? 

He was still thinking about it when the two of you got into the car.  

You exhaled a breath of relief as soon as you sat down. When you look over, Luke’s staring straight ahead, his jaw clenched. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked. 

Luke shook his head, chuckling uncomfortably. He stared down at his lap for a moment. 

You shifted in your seat, angling your body so that you were facing him. 

“Tell me,” you urge, your voice softening. 

Luke met your gaze, his lips turned into a small smile. “I’m just thinking about what I’m going to tell the team tomorrow.”

Your confused face urges him to continue. 

“I don’t know, I mean they love you- I think more than they love me. They’re gonna be asking about you all the time.  Do we fake a breakup now?”

Without thinking, you reached out to cup Luke’s cheek before leaning in and kissing him, softly and gently. 

You didn’t want to pull your lips away, and suddenly, Luke was kissing you back.  Only when you were desperate for air did you pull away.  

“Were they looking?” Luke asked quietly, still keeping his soft brown eyes locked on you. 

Narrowing your eyebrows, you shake your head. “No,” you tell him.  “No, they weren’t looking.”

Luke’s mouth formed into an ‘O’ shape, his jaw dropping slowly. 

“Luke-” you said slowly, hoping that you weren’t painfully misjudging the situation. “I think we both know that tonight wasn’t fake. Tell me if I’m wrong.”

You both looked at each other in fond silence before Luke nodded slowly, too shocked to speak. 

“Am I wrong?” you asked, your confidence fading quickly. 

Luke shook his head, “No,” he blurted out. “No, you aren’t wrong.”

With a grin you just couldn’t wipe off of your face, you nodded again.  “Good,” you whispered.  

Luke licked his lips, only now realizing how dry they were. “So maybe we don’t have to have a fake break up?” His sentence finished as a question. 

“Luke Alvez,” you said, scooting even closer towards him.  “Are you finally asking me out?”

Luke nodded while simultaneously closing the gap between the two of you, pressing your lips together in a sweet kiss.  You were both smiling into each other’s touch.  

When you finally break apart, your face was flushed and you were out of breath. You smiled, little tears gathering in your eyes that Luke swiped away gently with the pad of his thumb. 

“she didn’t say it back… y/n why didn’t she say it back?”

“all good questions for tomorrow, alex.”

the back of his knees hit the bed and he fell. luckily you’d moved the blankets so you were able to pull them over him and tuck him in. a few moments later you come back into the room with water and advil. alex is asleep so you set everything on his nightstand and fill out a sticky note, ignoring the stinging in your eyes and pinning it to the glass.

katherine is downstairs, taking a step away from the wedding. she waves you over and you walk with a small smile that you have to fake. does she know her son’s drunk and pining for the girl they took in? her best friend’s daughter? probably not, but anything’s possible. maybe she knows he’ll have a hangover tomorrow, maybe she knows he beoke your heart. maybe—but you aren’t about to tell her. “everything’s so beautiful,” you gushed. flattery could bury anything. sadness, anxiety, guilt, lies. all things you were riddled with.

katherine nodded. she was beaming, a perfect smile aimed at you as she sung the praises of the newest addition to the walter household. “that was all jackie,” she credited. “she’s worked so hard.”

she had but still, your smile became more forced. jackie was sweet and really good at things (better than you were, unless we were talking about how many words you could write/read per minute or how many kills you could get on just about any fps game) but even though her smile was nice and she’d been through a lot, you couldn’t make yourself be anything but civil.

you couldn’t be her friend. not when you felt like she was toying with alex’s feelings. not when cole was involved and the paige situation was still so raw alex would talk to you about it and hadn’t forgiven his brother. “i don’t doubt it,” you said. “it was a beautiful ceremony. now,” you hug katherine. “i’ve got to head home before it gets too dark.”

“do you have a drive?”

“no, but it’s okay. i like to walk.” you assured her.

“alone? y/n it’s late. i’m not sure i like that… stay the night, please.”

you weren’t good at saying no. especially not to sweet parental figures who only want what’s best for you and that make the best food. “you can sleep on the couch… or… in alex’s room as long as there’s no funny business.” you laughed and raised a brow, ‘really?’ was your silent question and katherine just shook her head. “don’t tell george.” she amended. “i won’t.” you swore.

katherine piled blankets and pillows from the linen closet into your arms and patted your shoulder as you passed, heading back to Alex’s room. you made a pallet on the floor and fell asleep, completely forgetting about the sticky note you’d left him.

The two pulled away, Danny felt different after kissing his best friend, good different, he wanted to do it again, but he couldn't tell his best friend that he had feelings for him.

Danny's feelings for Y/n had developed in first grade when they first met. It was Y/n's first day and later that day in art class Y/n was painting, and when they both reached for the same paint bottle their hands touched, they looked at each other and smiled, and then started talking about the dumb little things kids say.

Their friendship was all because of some paint bottle in art class and Danny couldn't be happier that a paint bottle, of all things, bought them together and neither could she.

Then after that, they started talking in class and then they just grew up with each other and became best friends. Y/n always referred to Danny as her brother, and when she started crushing on him, she kept referring to him as her brother because she didn't want him to wonder why she stopped.

But he started to find it kind of weird since he liked her, but it was weirder for Y/n to call her crush, her brother.

"Just acting, right?" Y/n asked trying to tell him how she felt without saying anything, "No, no it's more than that," he admitted letting out a loud sigh, sitting down on his bed hoping, no praying that she felt the same way, when she didn't anything he asked, "Do you feel the same?" the tone of his voice was hesitant as he scratched the back of his head.

"I do," she nodded in agreement.

"I really do." she breathed out in relief, Danny smiled at this girl, happy and relieved that she felt the same way. Y/n returned the smile and then Danny stood up and asked knowing that he probably should have, "Can I kiss you... again?"

"Yes," she frantically nodded trying to contain her excitement, the two immediately leaned in, pressing their lips together, they were so happy, they couldn't believe this was finally happening, they finally got to kiss their lifelong crushes.

Their lips moved in sync, both smiling like crazy into the kiss. They genuinely couldn't be happier. "It's crazy to think we wouldn't be here if it wasn't for that day in art class," she thought, slightly pulling away from the boy and letting out a deep breath, "It really is," he nodded in agreement, interlocking their hands Y/n spoke, "I'm really happy you reached for that paint bottle that day," with a smile Danny replied, "Me too,"

Danny and Y/n leaned in for another kiss, but Y/n pulled away and asked, "What are we?" she was genuinely curious about what his answer would be, you see Danny wasn't the type to have girlfriends, and Y/n wasn't the type to have boyfriends, but she had a few in the past meanwhile Danny had never had a girlfriend, but only because he hadn't had the time for one and he didn't want one.

"Whatever you want to be," he shrugged, "I'm happy you said that, will you be my boyfriend?" she asked squeezing his hand for some comfort, hoping he would say yes, but she had a good idea he would, "Yes," he nodded, kissed the girl, and squeezed her hand.

"We should probably go back to running lines," Y/n suggested pulling away from the boy, "Yeah," he nodded, clearing his throat as he picked up the papers, he forgot he dropped. The two went over their lines a few times, returning to the kiss scenes to 'make sure' it looked and felt read.

A/N: Requested on Wattpad, I hope you guys liked it! lmk if you have any questions or ideas, feel free to ask me anything.

There’s a ding, and the principal is speaking over the PA. Everyone stops what they’re doing so nothing is missed. After all, this doesn’t happen often.

The teacher freezes, dry erase marker still pressed firmly against the board, the end squishing and ink bleeding atop the letter he was writing and Danny, who’s sitting beside you, gives you a look. You know its meaning, recognize the weight behind it, and know this routine. You stand up quickly. The backs of your knees slam into the hard plastic you had been sitting on and the chair goes skittering back, bumping into the pair of desks behind you.

You’re too tired to send that apologetic smile to anyone else. Fortunately Danny isn’t. Making sure you aren’t alone, aren’t the only one being disruptive and making noise in an otherwise silent classroom, he braces a hand on the back of his chair, twisting around, to face your wide-eyed classmates. “Sorry about that,” he whispers.

Your movements are all harsh. They’re fast and full of annoyance, as you swipe your textbook, pencil kit, and water bottle off your desk and into your awaiting tote bag.

Standing up, you make your way to the door. The teacher stares daggers at you the entire way. They go to grab your arm and you flinch away. “Don’t touch me,” you grit, hands gripping around the doorknob so tightly it hurts. Air is hitting your face, propelled towards you by the door you shoved open, when you hear your dismissal “Please send Y/n L/n to guidance,” spoken over the announcements. Your teacher follows you out into the hallway, shouting instructions that you reluctantly follow, after you.

You count the tiles on your way. Nearly running into the blue door, you end at fifty six.

Ms Jacobs, Tara, as she’ll insist you call her, is a nice enough lady. She has curly brown hair, brown eyes, and perfectly painted on lipstick. She looks disarming, as a counsellor with the numbers of everyone that could ruin your life on speed dial, you suppose she has to. Still, this isn’t new. She leads you further into the room and gestures to a chair “Take a seat.”

When you don't, her smile becomes more strained. “Please, Y/n. This doesn’t need to be difficult, we just need to have a chat.”

You sigh, shoulders sagging as you plop down into the hundredth blue thing in this office. Doors, trim, there’s a ridiculous amount of the colour and you don’t like it. Blue, represents sadness. It’s something you’ve had enough of. Sure, there’s other colours. Posters upon posters–some neon, and green leaves stuck onto a large potted plant. There’s other colours just like there’s other feelings, but the one you’re stuck on, the one you can’t get over is sadness; it's blue.

“I hate the colour blue, Ms. Jacobs.” You tell her.

“Why?” She asks, interested in you opening up further. You don’t.

“Are you going to give me the run-down? Tell me what I can and can’t say?”

Her brows furrow. “Do I need to? I called you here to talk about your grades but if there’s something else going on–”

“There isn’t Ms Jacobs. I do appreciate the concern, though. About my grades. They’re passing, I don’t see the problem.” You didn’t have a single grade above fifty five. It was hard to, when all of your teachers assigned heaps and heaps of homework and you would rather take a deep-dive into hellfire, brimstone, and lakes of lava, then return to the place you were expected to complete it.

“Call me Tara.”

“Ms Jacobs, if it would make you happy, I’ll try harder.”

“It would, Y/n. Thank you.”

You gather your things and stand. A glance at your phone lets you know your second class is over, so you plan to head to the cafeteria. “And Y/n, just know that whatever you say to me is confidential.” Unless you are or are planning to hurt yourself, someone else, or if someone is hurting you.

“Bye Ms Jacobs.”

Walking into the cafeteria was masochistic in a way, when they were serving your favourite food, and you had no lunch or money to buy any with. Still, in your hurried text chain with Danny, this is where you had decided to meet. If you had to sit with the theatre kids to score some time with your friend, you would, although it would be better if you could grab him and go somewhere that didn’t make your mouth water and stomach ache.

Walking over to his table, you noticed Alex was there too. Just chatting with his brother. You and Alex weren’t the best friends, but he was nice enough, and like Issac, Lee, Nathan, and Cole, you had his number written down in your notepad under the ‘Just In Case’ column. You didn’t mind Alex, he was polite and much like his brother, Danny, never made you feel less than. Alex was always armed with a smile.

“Danny!” you called, announcing your presence so you wouldn’t scare anyone. You smiled at Alex who as expected, mirrored your expression. “Nice to see you. Mind if I cut in and steal your brother?”

Alex nods, “Be my guest. I’ll see you at the end of the day Danny!”

He leaves and then you’re pulling Danny up and along with you. He barely has time to grab his lunchbox before the two of you are leaving the cafeteria and heading outside. You slump down against the brick wall and Danny takes a seat across from you. Cross-legged, he pulls out two sandwiches and hands one to you. Your eyes widen.

“I’m pretty observant,” he supplies, shrugging.

“Thank you, D.” You eat the sandwich, and it’s a good one. “Do you have plans after school?” ‘Please don’t be busy, please don’t be busy, please don’t be busy’ you repeat in your head over and over again. It’s a mantra, you’re manifesting. Hoping, hoping, hoping.

“Y/n/n, I’m sorry, I actually do. Erin tried out for the school’s production and she wants help going over her lines–I would invite you to tag along but…”

“No, no!” You laugh. Manifestation doesn’t work, mantras are pointless, and shit, what are you supposed to do about tonight? “No, Danny. Don’t worry about it. I know you like Erin and this is the perfect opportunity! If she’s asking for help with lines–I mean you’re awesome–but let’s be real, you can go over lines with anyone. So, if she’s asking you specifically for help, that's such a good–a really good sign!”

You two talk for a while longer but it’s easy to see your mind is elsewhere.

The bell rings, you head to your last classes, and then home.

You’ve got to go home.

Well, to your house. That place, those four walls, they stopped being your home a long time ago. When your dad got drunk and your mom got mean.

Cole Walter pulls up beside you on your way home. His truck slows down, nearly to a stop, and you keep walking. Your headphones are on and you’re pretending you can’t hear him. You can, but, you hope he’ll tire of shouting, slam his food on the gas pedal, and leave you in a cloud of dust. “Y/n, hey! L/n, you need a ride or what?”

The truck stops, pulls off the side of the road and then you’re hearing a door slam and cringing, face crinkling as you realise you should’ve just said no. Shouted it, even.

Cole Walter jogs up to you. He knows your house is quite far away. Too far away to be walking. He calls to you again but you’re still walking forward. He places his hand on your shoulder. You know he’s there. You know he’s beside him and still you fucking flinch. The second time today and you're feeling pathetic. You shouldn’t be–really shouldn’t be. It’s not your fault that people can’t seem to respect the concept of personal space, not your fault that your trust has been violated, shredded and spat out, so many times that touch makes you jump. Makes you want to jump, or crawl, your way out of your own skin. You flip your headphones down, letting them fall around your neck, but turning your music up a few clicks so you can still hear it. Music is your vice, but no one’s complaining because it’s better than alcohol or drugs or, I don't know, being an asshole–you do that too. Unintentionally sometimes. Like now.

“What?” you snap. On the defensive.

Cole isn’t surprised by your flinching. You were dead to the world, listening to music so loud he could hear it from where he stood paces away from you. If he were you–if it was your hand that had sat down onto his shoulder and surprised him he probably would have shouted. He caught you off guard, he was sorry. Both of his hands stuck up in the air. “That’s my bad. Sorry for scaring you.”

“Sorry for–” You guess he did scare you. In a way. “It’s fine. What are you doing here?” You take your time looking at Cole. His sharp jaw, full lips, his blue eyes. Usually you hate that colour, but on him? It’s not so bad.

“Offering you a ride. Your place is pretty far from here, yeah?”

“It is but I like walking.”

“Walking is fine and all, but it’s getting colder and it gets dark around five now. By the time you make it home it’ll be past that. My truck has heat, comfy seats, and I’ll even let you have aux.”

You’re not a stranger to the effect Cole Walter has on everyone. Not at all. When he smiles at you, you feel your cheeks warm. You’re an idiot for not taking him up on that offer. Your feet already ache and your legs burn.

Some things hurt more, though.

Actions, all of them, have consequences.

“I’m fine, Cole. But thank you. You’re sweet.”

He shakes his head. You aren’t walking anymore, instead, stopped on the side of the road just waiting. This conversation, it’s going places. Places you don’t like. “I can’t let you walk home alone. Not in good conscience.”

He’s jogging back to his truck and pulling up beside you. He’s leaning over the centre console and pushing the door open. Leaning over further, and helping you up, not starting to drive again until your seatbelt is buckled. If only that was the least of your worries. If. Only.

“So what do you want to play?”

You plug in your phone and queue up your playlist. A sad song blasts and you hit skip very quickly, not missing the questioning look Cole sends you. You laugh, “Don’t tell me you’ve never listened to sad music while you’re reading.”

“I don’t read much, and most of the music I listen to is because of the lyrics. Those ones were… dark.”

Choosing to disregard most of his statement, you echoed his words back to him. “You don’t read much?”

“Alex reads a lot. You two would get along.”

“Shared interests aren’t everything. We don’t have much in common but I enjoy your company and Danny and I click and we both hate each other's favourite TV show with a passion.”

“What show is that?” You tell him and he grins. “That’s my favourite too–seriously. We should get together and watch it sometime.”

“I’d love that!” So, shared interests aren’t everything, but they’re certainly something. You smile for a couple more kilometres and then it gets harder. When you see the sign with your civic on it, you know that the ride, no matter how awesome it was, and how much fun you had, wasn’t worth it.

You hop out of the truck–Cole offered to walk you to the door but you denied, knowing you were already in for it. “Thank you, though.”

He nodded. “I can give you a ride tomorrow, too. Anytime you need one, really. Just ask–or get Danny to. I really don’t mind.” You smile. Thank him again and climb out of the truck. You walk confidently until he pulls out of the long driveway and onto the road. Then you sigh, and it’s because of Cole’s conscience that you get home before it’s dark enough for you to slip in unnoticed.

You pause on the porch. You don’t want to go in, but you don’t have a choice. Not really. What are your other options? Run off into the woods and let yourself be some Colorado woodland creature’s lunch? Knowing what’s coming, it doesn’t sound too bad. You open the door and nearly sob when the wind slams it shut behind you.

Your heart beats hard in your chest like your father’s boots do on the floor. “Where the hell have you been! Days, gone for days. You couldn’t call, couldn’t fucking text,” with each word, most of them slurred, he storms closer. It’s not even suppertime and his eyes are glassed over with that familiar film, his breath a pungent reminder, as obvious as the one in his hand, of what he’s been drinking all day. Your mother is behind him in the hallway, puffing on a cigarette, uninterested. “There’s no respect! Ya here the brat? Thinking they run the place. Comin’ and goin without a care.”

“I don’t–I know I don’t run the place.”

“Damn right you don’t!” The half empty–you’ve never been a glass-half-full type of person, not growing up in this–bottle of beer come flying at the wall. It hits just above your head, the liquid and brown pieces of glass falling all over you.

“Look what you made me do now! Gone and spilled m’drink.”

You had taken your converse off at the door. Always being yelled at for trekking in mud and dirtying the floor, the hurried steps you take backwards, hurt. Your dad is wearing work boots, steel toe, but the only thing between you and the broken glass is a thin pair of socks. Your skin splits. The light blue fabric on your feet turns dark red.

You whimper and each step hurts more than the last. Then you bump into the wall. “Dad, please.”

“Calling me tha’ like you think it’ll make me forgive you. Fuck,” he throws a glance over his shoulder. “How’d we make something so… so pathetic?”

Your mom shrugs, like she hasn’t a clue, either.

“Dad, please. I’m sorry, okay? I’ll call next time.”

“There won’t be a fucking next time! Get your shit and get out. All we do for you, all we do and you’re still impossible. Keep you fed, clothed, give you a place to sleep and just get attitude, attitude, and disrespect. I’m done being disrespected. Done!”

“You can’t just kick me out! I have nowhere to go.” You yell. You yelled. You yelled. Oh god. Oh hell. Oh shit. You see his leg rear back and you go to jump out of the way. You’ve already been kicked out–you just need to get out, and quickly. You jump over his leg but then his fist is wrapped in your hair and you’re falling. Then the boot you dodged is slamming into you side. Again, again, again. Tears are streaming down your face. You’re sobbing.

Then he’s picking you up by your shirt. Lifting you, dragging you. He opens the door, grabs your bag, your shoes, and throws them outside. Then, then he throws you. You land on the porch, body aching and pressing into the hardwood.

The door slams and you’re still sobbing. You’re pretty sure that your new mantra is ‘fuck’. It’s what you repeat over and over again as you drag yourself up and away from the front door. You need to get away, you need to get away. You really need to. Creating distance between you and that door, you and those people, is priority.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Running isn’t really in the cards for you. You limp away and don’t miss your mother peering out the kitchen window. You guess that from her perspective you do look pathetic. But no more pathetic than your dad, the grown man who had to hurt you to feel powerful and get his point across. Your pace is terrible but the darker it gets, the further you get. You’re in the woods now, with no idea where exactly you are and not much supplies. Maybe you will end up as woodland creature dinner. There’s not much you can do to help it now. You think about calling someone and then you realise your phone isn’t in your bag. You start to shake. Choked laughter bubbles it’s way out of your throat. You’re laughing and then the hysterics shift and you’re sobbing. Arms wrapped tightly around yourself you cry for what must be hours.

Later, slumped against a tree trunk you decide to tackle your feet. One problem at a time, one shard at a time. You pluck pieces out of your skin and the blood makes you feel nauseous. When the job is done, you slide your socks back on, and walk towards the sound that comforts you most. Rushing water. You find a river, and kneel at its edge. You wash your socks, yourself, and dry on a stone in the sun. You scrub the dirt and grime from your feet. When your socks are mostly dry and the cuts have stopped gushing blood, you put on your shoes and lace them up. Then you follow the river. You’ll reach town soon enough. Your face isn’t marred, just the rest of you, all hidden beneath layers of clothes–a long sleeve, a flannel, blue jeans.

Ideally, you’ll find Danny.

You don’t live in an ideal world. The boy you find is not Danny but he wants something you can give and has something you need–a place to sleep. You do so without clothes, lying next to him. What you did was in the dark, would stay that way, because before he woke, before you were made to converse with the nameless boy, you dressed and snuck out. The walk of shame was just that, shameful. You felt horrendous. Your body still hurt and you found yourself walking into a cafe you knew Haley, Will’s wife worked at.

Asking for handouts made your stomach sour but you couldn’t do much else.

Haley was scrubbing down a table when you approached her. “Hey, Haley.”

“Y/n, hey, how’s it going?” Then she turned to you and realised, not good. That it was not going good. You shot her a flattened smile. “I really hate to ask. Like, I really really do, but I haven’t eaten in a bit and was wondering–”

“Yeah, yes. Of course. Just have a seat, I’ll grab you… do you have any dietary restrictions?” You answer her, and when she comes back, handing you a wrapped meal you thank her profusely. “Is there anything you need done around here? I appreciate this so much, but I don’t want to take advantage. I can clean–I’m not a great cook but I can make coffee.”

“You don’t need to do anything. You aren’t taking advantage. Not at all. Is there anything else I can do for you? Anyone I can call? Your parents?”

Fear fills your eyes and perceptive as ever, she catches it. “Not them, please.” Is what you whisper. Haley nods, disappears behind the counter and makes a phone call. Then, she dotes on you for the next ten minutes until Will pulls up outside. He comes in, walks over to your table and sits down across from you.

You’re pretty sure you’ve been caught. The ruse, it’s very much up.

“What’s going on, Y/n?”

You shrug and sip at the hot chocolate Haley made for you. “Well, come on. You don’t have to say anything right now but let’s get you home.” You stand, ready to go anywhere but, and Will stops you. “My parent’s home, Danny’s. Katherine knows you’re coming. Come on, kid.”

You follow him to the car. Most of the drive is silent, but you thank him when the Walter’s house homes into view and Katherine is waiting outside on the porch with a smile. Up the few stairs, and you head straight for her. You’re grateful for her gentle nature, because as you throw your arms around her and squeeze, she simply rests hers on your back, rubbing soothing circles. “They–they kicked me out.”

She takes a minute to respond, only because she finds this hard to process. You were a good kid, a great one, and she, having so many of her own, couldn’t think of a single thing that would make her abandon or discard one of her own children. “You’ll stay with us then.” It isn’t a question and you’re glad because how would you have answered? Your mouth is dry but your eyes aren’t.

You sit in Danny’s room. He isn’t home from school yet but he will be soon. Katherine and George are upstairs making room for you. You feel like a burden, they assure you that you are not.

You’re waiting for Danny, only he isn't who makes it home first. It’s Cole. He walks in, tosses his bag down onto the bed, none the wiser that there’s another person in the room. His back faces you and he’s rifling through a drawer when he hears you hiccup. He turns around quickly. Sees you, crying in his brother's bed and immediately his brows are furrowed. “Y/n?” He walks closer. The bed is near to the ground so he drops onto his knees. He’s close to you know but he’s made himself less intimidating. “Y/n/n? Hey.”

“Hi Cole.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’ve been better.”

Cole doesn’t ask, he doesn’t push. Instead he opens his laptop, logs into his Netflix and puts on the favourite show you both discussed watching together. When the two of you are settled. Him on the floor, face resting on the mattress, where you’re curled up in a blanket that belongs to his brother, he breaks the silence. “Do you want me to get Danny?”

“Where is he?”

“He’s with Erin at the school. I think they’re going over details for the production. But I can go get him if you need him. Do you need him?”

You shake your head. As Danny’s best friend you were the biggest ‘Derin’ shipper there was. Plus, Cole was here. He made things okay. “No, no thanks. I don’t really want you to go anywhere if that’s okay?”

“That’s more than okay, but I will say, my bed is comfier.”

You smile for the first time in a bit, looking at the uncomfortable position he has himself in. “Yeah? Well, we should definitely watch this, over there then.”

“My thoughts exactly.” Cole grabs the laptop, grabs you, still wrapped in the blanket he tells himself he’ll replace from the linen closet, and carries both over to his bed. You squeal a bit and bite back a real whimper when his hand touches what you know has to be a massive bruise, sitting you down.

You fall asleep, leaning against him. He pauses the show, closes his laptop, and promises to resume it when you’re awake to watch it with him. Then he sends a threatening text to his brother, Danny.

COLE: Y/n/n has had a rough day and is sleeping in our room

COLE: Wake her up and you’ll get hit

DANNY: is she okay??? ALSO since when do you call her y/n/n???

COLE: I’ll see you later

COLE: Tell Erin hi for me

DANNY: fuck off

George and Katherine didn’t receive that same threatening text but when they peeked into the room to check on you and found you cuddled up against Cole, snoring lightly, and looking peaceful they left you be. Your room was ready and in the morning you moved into it. Your clothes were dirty and Katherine washed them for you but in the meantime… Well it was her dresses or… Or what you went with.

You knocked your fist against the door and Cole opened it, shirtless.

“Hey Cole,” look at his face. Just his face. Only his face.

“Hey Y/n. What can I help you with?”

Your hand flew to the back of your neck which you rubbed awkwardly. “Can I, uh… Would you mind if I borrowed a pair of jeans and a belt?” Cole chuckled, then realised you were completely serious. Then he gave you the jeans. Then the belt. “Need a shirt too?”

You laughed, cheeks stained pink. “I wouldn’t mind…”

He handed you the plain black one in his hand. “Riding with me to school?”

“If I’ve got shotgun.”

“‘Course.” He said, grinning.

You headed upstairs and got changed. The pants were big but with the belt, and them cuffed they fit alright. Then, came the shirt. It fell mid thigh but once you tucked it in a bit it didn’t look too terrible. You brushed your hair, your teeth, and headed downstairs. George looked at you with wide eyes and you shrugged, “I don’t really like dresses?”

Katherine sighed. “We’ll get you some clothes after school.”

“From the thrift store!” You amended.

She rolled her eyes but agreed anyway. Then, you were sitting beside Cole on the way to school, during the one class you shared, and at lunchtime. You weren’t ditching Danny, just his time was split between you and Erin now. They started dating. They were sweet, good for and to, each other.

You’d only been living with the Walters for two days, but everything was great. Until Cole invited you to the lake house. Two coolers had you feeling buzzed and when it was your first turn, playing ‘Truth or Dare’, you picked truth and ended up faced with a question you didn’t want to answer. So you turned, and pressed your lips to Cole’s. His lips parted in surprise, but then he kissed you back, tongue slipping into your mouth as he deepened the kiss. His hands flew to cup your face, your eyes were shut, and you were feeling things. Until someone whistled and another yelled: “Get a room!”

Next round, you were three coolers in and ballsy enough to pick dare. “I dare you to jump into the lake!”

You rolled your eyes. Like that was difficult. Sure, it was a bit chilly, but you’d been in the river days ago. Rushing water compared to water the sun had beat down on all day was nothing. You grinned, and ran to the edge of the dock, canon-balling and sending water flying everywhere. When you surfaced you saw the asshole who wore Cole’s jersey shaking water out of his hair like a dog. You grinned, and started to swim back over when you saw something that caused you to sober up quickly. The foundation and powder you had painted on top of the hand shaped bruise on your arm had worn off. Gone. It was gone and fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

When you didn’t get out of the water immediately Cole was curious. When your face reflected horror, he was concerned.

“You good?” He walked over to the edge and dipped his hand in. The water was freezing. “Come on out, you’ll get sick.”

You shook your head, plastering a clearly fake smile on your face. “My immune system is really strong and I want to swim! I’ll be fine Cole, gonna go that way.” You make a gesture with your head and begin to paddle in that general direction. Away from the lakehouse, away from the people, away from the party. Away from Cole—or, you tried to get away from cole. He walked on the bank, steps matching your strokes as he followed you. “Get out of the water, Y/n.” You were still swimming, and now Cole was having to duck under and climb over branches and bushes to continue following. Now, you couldn’t even hear the people at the lake house.

“No thank you.”

“Don’t be stubborn. This was—it was funny thirty minutes ago! It’s lost the charm. Just get out, we’ll go back and…”

“I don’t want to go back.”

“Then we’ll go home. Would that make you happy? We can leave, we don't have to go back to school, I can take you home.”

“I want to stay in the water, Cole.”

“Y/n, just get out of the fucking lake. It’s not that hard! I don’t understand why you won’t—“

You’re in waist deep water and all of you is submerged until it isn’t. You stand up quickly. Tears sting your eyes and emotion clogs your throat. “You don’t understand, huh?” Your voice breaks, shatters, and cracks. “Does this help? Do you see why when I say I want to keep swimming, I mean it? Do you see why I want to stay in the water Cole?”

He sees something. He sees bruises on your arms. Deep purple handprints put there by too big hands and with too much force—force that never should have been used on you. He’s blinking, his eyes are seeing but his mind isn’t thinking, not fast enough.

“Do you see?!” You’re shouting now, sobbing too. “Because the makeup washed off and now you can see it. Now everyone can. Everyone will see and then they’ll report it and I’ll end up in the system in an equally shitty situation! Cole,” another wave of sobs interrupts, “Cole don’t make me get out of the water.” He doesn’t, he climbs in with you. Water soaks his boots, the bottoms of his jeans, you hear it slosh as he takes large steps and closes the distance between you both. “Y/n/n.”

“What?” It’s a sob, a plea.

“We’re going to get out of the lake. I’m going to walk you through the woods, out to the road and then I’m going to go get my truck. I’ll be ten minutes tops. I’ll grab my hoodie too.”

“It’s… it’s back on the chair.”

“The red one, I know.”

“Okay…”

Cole keeps his word, but after five minutes you hear his truck. It stops, he hops out. He sets the hoodie on top of you and you shimmy into it. “No one will see, no one you don’t want to know, will know. But Y/n, you will never go back there, okay? Not to that house, not ever, because if you go, I’m following, and the things I do, most authorities will not agree with.”

“I don’t ever want to go back there.”

“You won’t ever have to.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me for helping you with something that never should’ve happened. We’ll get you some ice as soon as we’re home.” Cole cranks the heat up and angles the fans to point your way.

He opens your door for you and walks closely behind you. No one else is home—Katherine and George both working and the others at school. Cole raids the freezer for anything remotely icey and heads up to your room. He makes a pit-stop to grab his laptop and some snacks from a drawer none of his brothers would ever know about. He steals the blanket you like off of Danny’s bed too—the soft one with the blue plaid.

You both watch the show, he looks concerned when you press the frozen peas to your side too. You lift your shirt, show him the damage and he freezes. “Ugly, huh?”

“Nothing about you has ever been ugly, Y/n/n but jesus, maybe we should go to a hospital.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere Cole but there’s no denying I looked like Van Gogh fucked up Starry Night—and no hospital. They’d like immediately call someone. Plus I think they’re just bruised and not broken so that’s good.”

“I’m sorry that this happened to you.”

“Oh don’t do that. I hate when people apologise for things that aren’t their fault.”

“Can I apologise for Danny, then? For him not realising what was happening sooner?” Cole asked. People weren’t perfect, you realised that then, Cole having said the first thing that genuinely upset you. This was no one’s fault. No one but your scum of the earth parent’s.

“No. Danny didn’t do anything wrong. I didn’t want him to know and usually I’m good at hiding these things.” A bitter laugh, and: “Usually.”

“I blame the alcohol, but, I guess it’s nice that you know.”

“I’m glad I know.”

And he is. He carries your bag, your books, even goes thrifting with you and Katherine. “I like this one,” he’d said, holding up a shirt that barely had any fabric to it. You rolled your eyes for the fiftieth time and picked out a baggy graphic tee shirt instead.

At school he walks you to and from your classes. He sits with you at lunch and helps you come up with excuses—none so awesome that they work without the grin and charm he lays on your PE teacher.

Weeks later, your bruises were healed, and to the blind eye, the only indication you’d been abused was the occasional flinching. Cole tended to call out his moves before he made them, especially if you weren’t sure exactly where he was. Your arguments–few and far between, seriously, the only thing you’d argued about so far was where you went for lunch, were had with calm voices and distance between the two of you. Cole was perfect. He never caught you off guard, he was just always there.

Would see you getting anxious and move closer. “I’m going to hold your hand,” he’d whisper. When you needed someone to talk to it was always him because he was always there.

Then, one night, the two of you were sitting on that same blue plaid blanket. The one you loved–the one Cole had paid Danny $40 for. You were both staring up at the same stars, both wondering the same thing: When had you become so close? You weren’t sure if there was a turning point, a particular defining moment, but Cole had taken Danny’s place in your heart as ‘best friend’. Cole had done that and more. He was more to you than that. He baked your favourite pastry, would go just about anywhere with you, and he made you smile. He made you feel safe. He had told no one your secret–but Katherine and George had a clue, enough of one that they welcomed you with open arms and seldomly raised their voices. Enough of one, that for that first few weeks, the ice was always restocked in the freezer.

They had an idea.

But Cole knew. Knew everything. Knew and made you feel okay in spite of everything. He knew and still.. still looked at you like… like that. Cole, he leaned in closer. You waited and listened. “I’m going to kiss you. Because I want to. Because I love you how you deserve to be loved. And not because of some truth or dare game.

“It wasn’t bad though, right? Because I thought it was a pretty good ki–”

A strange tension lingered between you and Cole after you moved in a few months ago. You had gotten along with the other boys and Parker just fine, but as soon as you came along, it was as though Cole wanted nothing to do with you, or perhaps didn’t know what to do with you around, You had no clue what this tension was based off on, but it had made every encounter awkward. It didn’t help he was always trying to be a flirt too.

Standing near the entrance of the horse stables inside the barn, you watched as Cole fed and took general care of Custard. 

"You wanna ride?" Cole then asked in a nonchalant tone, gaze flickering over to you with a light smirk before turning back to the horse.

“Me? Oh uh…no. Not by myself. I’ve only ridden on the back with someone back home. But I’m too scared to take the reins. Plus I think that horses are the only animals that don’t like me very much.”

Cole laughed at the notion of horses not liking you. He merely hummed in response, stroking Custard once more while he seemed eager to be fed. 

This was the first time you hadn’t felt the awkwardness fill a space with Cole and you couldn't quite explain why it felt comfortable. 

He then turned his gaze to you for a moment, before speaking up once more. “Who’ve you ridden with before?”

“My cousins from my mom's side of the family. They have their ranches so I’ve been lucky enough to say that I’ve been on a horse. Though I can’t say the same about being in full control of one.”

"Wanna try?" He asked gesturing to the horse. The edge to the question sounded a bit teasing.

“Oh no, I couldn’t!” You laugh putting your hands out. “I more than likely will fall off out of pure panic.”

"Afraid he'll buck?" He said, the edge in his tone playful again. "It's not too hard– I promise." He then turned to you, with a slight smirk on his face. "Hope it’s not me that you're not scared of, are you?" He asked.

“You? No…Custard, maybe.” You glance up at the beautiful creature

"He's one of our nice horses. Never nipped at a person in his whole life. Can't say he’s never not bucked off anyone but…You'll be fine." He said with a smirk. "That…and aside from a couple of scratches from his hooves when you try to get on, but trust me you'll be 100% fine. How about it? Come on- I dare you."

“Dare me. How comforting.” You wince as you try to take his reins but he moves causing you to back up. 

“Woah!” Cole says. “Seems like Custard here got agitated by your approach.” Cole himself took a step back with a slight grimace in your direction. “Looks like he really doesn't like you." He breathed out a laugh, turning his back towards you once more. At the same time, you couldn't help but see a tinge of disappointment in his eyes upon failing to coax you to try mounting the horse.

“It’s fine Cole. We can do this some other time, yeah? It’s getting late anyway. Besides, Custard doesn’t seem to enjoy being in my presence so much right now.” You gave a slight grimace.

Cole took a breath in and out but didn’t turn to face you, instead took to stroking Custard before sighing quietly. "We'll see about that," He said with faint certainty as he took ahold of the reins in one hand. "You stay right there." He then turned to Custard, who seemed to calm down a little bit as Cole moved beside him, stroking his mane.

“What are you doing?”

"Getting him more used to you." He said with confidence, moving around the horse with a soft hand. "Don’t worry, he’ll forget you even reached for his reins while scared in the next couple of minutes– he'll start loving you. I promise." He then turned back to you with another teasing smirk.

“I don’t know about that...” You chuckled nervously as he walked him over to where you stood. You made a noise as Custard was only an arm's length away.

"Trust me." He said confidently as he held the reins tight. With your reluctance though, Custard only became more agitated with each step he took closer towards you. He whinnied slightly and stomped his hoof. Cole still had his eyes on you, however– seeing your nervous expression.

“Cole I’m only making things worse-“ You shook your head as Custard stomped his hoof again.

"Trust me..." He repeated as he continued to walk up Custard towards you whilst remaining cautious in his movements.

By this point, Custard's ears were pinned backward, and was quite vocal in his disliking of you  All of a sudden, the horse turned to face you as his nostrils flared. Your heart sank as he started thrashing his head wildly. 

“Cole…” You held your hands out in front of you. Your eyes widened as he dragged his hoof like he was getting reading to charge at you.

Cole's eyebrows furrowed as he gripped the reins tighter, staring at you as Custard tried to take a step forward– almost charging at you.

"Quit backing up. That is the worst thing you can do right now–” He said, his tone stern. 

Custard then proceeded to take another step forward, but this time Cole was ready as he blocked the horse's legs– keeping him in place.

“Don’t move, just stay calm.” You froze like a statue, waiting on Cole for his word. 

He then let out a breath of relief as Custard stopped huffing towards you. He stared at you for a moment. “You okay over there?" He asked, looking at you with genuine concern now. Custard on the other hand seemed to be calming down by the minute, turning to face Cole as he continued to pet him.

“Okay? Yeah, I’m great…other than the fact your horse just tried to charge me!”

Cole's gaze became a bit sharp at the sarcasm. He rolled his eyes. "He didn't– He didn’t charge at you. I’d never let that happen. Now, if you can stop being all sarcastic– that would be great." He said in a rather blunt manner, as he then moved to face you. At this point, Custard had calmed down and was just watching you with curious eyes.

You looked down at your shoes. Feeling stupid for being scared. Maybe you read the creature's body language wrong, then again how would you know? You knew nothing about them. You hadn’t meant to make Custard agitated.

"Look at him..." He said firmly, as Custard seemed to be waiting for you to just give him a chance. "See? He’s doing nothing wrong. He just got scared by your approach, that's all." He then sighed heavily in your direction. "You wanna know how I got him to love me?” 

You shifted your gaze onto him. “H-How?” 

“By giving him the time of day."

“Really?” You eased up.

"Yes really. I was like you. I was scared of him in the beginning. Now he’s my favorite one out of all our horses."

He moved towards you with Custard, reaching out for your hand to bring you closer to the horse. Custard immediately got a little more agitated as he stared at you.

"Look– He won't bite. I promise. He's just scared, like you. Just stroke his mane for a bit." He said, his voice firm and reassuring. Custard continued watching you suspiciously.

“Okay.” You nodded.

He then let your hand go and stood to the side to observe you and Custard. You hadn’t even realized he walked away leaving you two alone. Custard was still looking at you with a curious stare, though that all seemed to melt away upon you finally stroking his mane. The horse then seemed to relax and started lowering his head, seeming almost grateful for the pets.

You breathe out a laugh. Then turn around to look at Cole finding him standing at a further distance from you two. He watched your eyes grow slightly. Shaking his head. “You’re okay! You’re doing good, just breathe.”

You continued to slowly stroke Custard's mane, as he seemed more comfortable with you now.

Slowly, he started to take a few steps in your direction, as you were finally able to reach out and stroke his side. He even seemed to enjoy it. As you moved closer, you could see that Custard was quite a fluffy friendly creature. 

Cole continued to stand to the side, slightly amused by your initial fear as Custard continued to relax under your touch. He found himself not being able to avoid smiling but didn't want to distract you from this moment.

Custard continued to enjoy the attention with his large brown eyes locked onto you, as he lowered his head further.

Cole stared at you in mild amazement. He did not expect you to get this far with Custard considering his attempts to get you to mount the horse. Though it was pretty obvious he was impressed. After a couple of more strokes, Custard let out a happy whinny. He kept staring at you once you stopped, almost as if waiting for you to continue.

"I told you…He's quite nice once you give him a chance." Cole said, stepping closer with a slight smirk.

“You’re not so bad after all…” You muttered softly to the horse. You stroked his hair. A smile adorning your lips. 

The horse now started shifting his head, as he leaned into your hand– wanting more. Cole had walked up to you by now, giving Custard a quick stroke as he happily let out a whinny.

"There. See?" He asked, seemingly pleased with this development.

“Yeah, yeah.” You rolled your eyes playfully.

He let out a low hum and leaned back, watching Custard for a second before staring at you again.

"Want to try riding him now?" He smirked.

“Oh um…” You look back to the horse. Then back to Cole. “You know what…yeah, I would actually.” You offer a small smile.

He nodded and walked towards Custard- holding the reigns of the horse once more.

"Just stay there. I'll get him ready." He moved Custard beside you and started fiddling with the saddle and whatnot. Custard kept watching you with curious eyes and then turned to Cole when he called his name.

You nodded back with a smile. Watching as he moved around the stables with ease.

After a few minutes, Cole had finished setting up the saddle. He then turned to you as Custard looked at you once more.

"You ready?" He asked and you would have noticed that the smirk finally left him as he took off his hat and handed it to you. He wanted to make sure you'd be comfortable riding the horse.

Custard still kept staring at you, though his eyes were no longer suspicious— and seemed happy to see Cole's attention now turned to help you get on him.

“Yeah…” You nodded. “So do I just hold onto here?” You pointed to a spot on the saddle. He nodded and came closer to you.

"Just hold this handle here, and put one foot inside this stirrup. I'll do the rest." He said as he came right up to you and helped you up on Custard, pushing against your bottom to lift you up. He pulled on the saddle straps, and stirrups, making sure you were comfortable and safe. Once you got comfortable, he stepped back and smiled at you again.

"You ready now?" He asked again, though his voice was no longer teasing. It was reassuring.

“Yeah.” He then grabbed the reins and led Custard out the barn doors and toward the training area as he watched you out of the side of his eyes. Custard, of course, seemed quite happy to have you on his back as you went out.

By now, you felt much more comfortable on Custard's back as you held his reins tightly in your hands. He continued to walk around freely, watching Cole every so often.

"You ready to speed up? Or should we take it slow?" He asked you, his eyes still locked onto you as you rode along the fence.

“Speed up?” Your eyes widened. “We just started Cole.” He hummed thoughtfully, as Custard seemed to be getting a little bored from walking at a pace so slow.

"We can take it faster than this for sure. I'll be beside you– nothing will happen." He then looked at you with a reassuring expression and gave Custard a bit of a nudge. "Just take it easy with the reins, alright? All you have to do is hold them tight."

“Okay…okay. I can do this.”

"That's the spirit, you got this!" The horse then trotted forward a little bit faster now, as Cole watched you.

Custard breathed out, as if sighing and testing and judging your experience as a rider, digging his hoofs into the dirt, as though he was trying to indulge how you would react to him now picking up the pace.

“Cole. He’s going faster!” You exclaim. 

He looked at you with an amused expression as Custard started trotting faster and faster. "Just hold on to the reins! It's fine." He said, his voice now being firm and certain.

Custard then suddenly picked up even more pace, going much faster as if challenging you to keep up and take control. You held tight to the reins but in the blink of a second. Panic flooded your mind.

You looked back in Cole's direction, who was still following you with a calm expression before he suddenly spoke up again- trying to guide you towards keeping up with Custard.

"Slow his pace. Just grip the reins tightly and look straightforward. Then, pull the reins back in your direction to make him slow down." He explained as Custard was going even faster.

It was too much to comprehend. Everything was happening so fast that you ended up pulling at his reins instead of gripping them.

Custard seemed to get agitated by this, almost like he could sense your fear. The horse's hooves seemed to be tapping against the ground quicker and quicker now as if you were not quite fast enough to control him. You could do nothing but hold on for dear life as Custard tried to go against the pull of his reins as fast as he could.

“What are you guys doing out this late?” You both turned towards the new voice that started approaching from the house. It had been Alex. Upon the distraction, your grip had loosened on the reins and Custard took this as his chance to throw you off him. You gasped as you fell backwards, your heart sank. Then nothing. Your head colliding with the ground hard first, your shoulder, then your body colliding down next, rendering you unconscious.

“Cole!” Alex yelled running towards you. Having seen you get thrown off. 

Cole was instantly startled by this whole scenario, feeling a sudden panic as he whipped his head around to the thump his ears caught. He looked to Custard who was whinnying away, dread hitting him not seeing you on his back, his face falling as soon as he saw your body on the ground. He held his breath. 

“Y-Y/n.” He called out. Upon realizing you were unresponsive his panic seemed to melt into worry and terror. He was at your side in the blink of an eye, running and falling on his knees hard against the dirt. He knelt pressing his ear against your nose, you were still breathing. 

"A-Alex go get Mom and Dad!" Cole yelled immediately, as he tried to shake you awake, patting against your face to try and get a response from you. When he cradled your head, dread hit him when he pulled his hand away, drops of red staining his fingertips. His breathing hitched. Alex stared wide-eyed, trying to gather his head at the scene before him. When he made no move to go, Cole yelled again, his voice cracking. “Alex! G-Go get Mom and Dad! Go get Mom and Dad now! Go—” He didn't seem to hear a thing as he shook you frantically to try and wake you up. “Y/n– I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please, oh god please!” He pleaded, his vision getting blurry from the tears. 

“H-Holy shit!” Alex tripped over his feet as he turned back around and ran for the house. Yell as loud as he could to alert his family. “Mom! Dad! Dad!” Cole heard Alex hear in the distance. 

You remained unconscious as Cole patted against your cheek. His dad and mom ran over after having been awoken by hearing their son scream bloody murder. He watched as Cole tugged you into his arms rocking you back and forth. They had only ever seen him in such a state after his football career was over.

His dad, upon approaching, looked at Cole in complete and utter horror as they both looked at your unconscious body and the horse now trotting next to you both. “She won’t wake up. S-She won’t wake up!” Cole shook his head. 

"What the hell happened?" George asked, looking from Cole to the horse and back to you once more. Cole started to talk, but he still seemed much more focused on you than he was talking to his dad.

"Custard threw her off, Dad. It was bad. She hit head first." Alex hurt in. 

“Oh my god!” Katherine knelt before Cole. Squeezing his shoulder as she took note of the red on his hands. 

“What have I told you boys about riding at night? The horses are supposed to be in their stalls. No riding after dark, that’s our rules, Cole you know this– You two were supposed to be sleeping!” His dad sighed running a hand down his face. “Okay, we gotta go. Alex, go get my keys now.” 

“I know. I know Dad– She just wanted to ride him okay? Who was I to say no to her?” He laughed but it hadn’t reached his eyes. “I thought I could get her used to Custard…” He looked down at you in his arms. Gently caressing your cheek with the back of his hands. “This is all my fault…”

“Let’s worry about whose fault it was after we get her to the hospital, sound good? Can you pick her up?” Cole nodded in response, looking up at his dad with a solemn gaze, before looking back down at you.

Custard was being stopped by Alex, taking hold of his reins. Looking between his parents and you in Cole’s arms. Cole kept stroking your cheek, begging whoever would hear his silent plea to be able to see your eyes again.

"It was supposed to be harmless and simple..." He said quietly. "Not sure what went wrong...I don't think I've ever seen Custard do that before..."

“Sweetie…” Cole looked up at his mom. “We gotta move quick with this okay, before any more serious issues come up. Let’s go get her help.” Cole held a slight frown as he agreed, he inhaled deeply before sliding his arms underneath your back and legs. With a grunt, he slowly stood up. His mom placed your dangling arm against your chest, brushing back hairs that swept your face. 

He looked down at you thinking how you looked so peaceful as you were unconscious. Yet, something told him that you were probably having quite the nightmare right about now. He felt bad that his attempt at trying to help you overcome your horse-riding phobia had ended up like this. Though, to be honest, he hated the way it ended up like this. You weren’t supposed to get hurt. 

Cole looked up at his mother, before looking at you with what seemed to be a guilty look. 

“Come on Cole.” She ushered him forward towards the truck his dad drove up to the front of the house. She turned towards the rest of the party now all waiting at the steps of the porch. She opened up the back door for Cole to let you two in. Danny mostly. “You’re in charge until we get back. Make sure Alex puts Custard away alright.” He nodded, not arguing. 

“Is she gonna die?” Lee asked. Solemn written all over his face. 

“Let’s not think like that right now okay? I’ll call when we have more information.” Katherine sighed and shut the door behind Cole where he sat in the back with you. 

Cole looked up at his dad through the mirror and then down at you. “Please be okay,” Cole whispered to you. Katherine and George looked at one another solemnly as they listened to their son. “I won’t forgive myself if something happens to you…” 

It had been a long and agitated night for Cole. His dad had to keep him from bouncing his leg up and down multiple times and gave up eventually knowing he wouldn’t stop. 

It was only when the doctor called their name that his world had stopped. He had turned from the doctor and his parents, gripping his hair before he turned and began punching the wall adjacent to him. He had broken down in tears as his dad wrapped his arms around him from behind. George sank to the ground with Cole as he tried to take in the news of the state you’d be in after the serious head injury you sustained. 

Your skull had fractured upon impact with the ground. There was a slight crack which explained the blood he found on his hand. The doctor went through the types of treatments they’d get started on you but it was when he announced that he wanted to keep you in an induced coma to let you heal properly that made him see red. For how long though…he didn’t want to know. 

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry. I'm sorry, bug. I’m sorry..” He wept in his dad's arms. His eyes closed as he rested his head against his dad's shoulder. Katherine placed a hand over his mouth trying to compose herself, not wanting to see her baby in such a state. 

“If you have any further questions let me know. That’s all for now I’m afraid. I’m sorry son.” The doctor gave Cole a sheepish grin before he nodded to Katherine and George, walking off with that being said. 

“Cole–“ George began, but Cole shook his head, pushing himself away from his dad. 

“How long am I grounded for?” He clenched his jaw. 

“That’s not– Hey let’s worry about it another time, not right now.” George rested a hand on his shoulder. “You’re in a lot of pain right now–“ 

“Pain?” Cole scoffed. “You think I’m in pain right now…” He smirked, flexing his jaw. “No seriously Dad, how long am I grounded for huh? A week? Two weeks? A month? Till Y/n wakes back up? If she even wakes up?” He exclaimed.

“Cole, sweetie–“ Katherine went to console him but flinched when he stuck his finger out not wanting to be touched right now. 

“How long, Dad?” He looked through his lashes at him.. 

“I’m not doing this with you right now son.” George clenched his jaw. 

“Why not huh? I can see it in your eyes already. Your disappointment in me. Come on, we both know how much of a screw-up I am in this family. Tonight only proved it further. So how long Dad?” 

“How long? You want to be grounded so damn much then fine…You’re grounded till the next school year starts. Happy?” George let his hands slap to his sides. 

“George!” 

“Super...” Cole smirked then walked back out of the hospital. 

“Cole! Cole! Where are you going?” Katherine called out to him. 

“Anywhere but here.” He threw a peace sign out over his shoulders. 

Katherine turned to her husbands in shock. “Till the rest of the semester?” 

George closed his eyes, regret hitting him instantly. “I know…I’ll talk to him later.”

“Never.”, you repeated and his lips tipped up into a lopsided smile before it spread further as though he had found this situation rather peculiar.

“You seem quite astonished.”, you narrowed your eyes at him to which he pursed his lips and pulled out his hands that were hidden to run it through his hand. His long fingers glided through his raven black hair.

He had a magician’s hand that danced in front of you as he told you stories of his time outside the campus, but his words faded as you watched his fingers that pointed to places you had never been to, the way he tilted his wrists like he could pull out a card out of thin air or snap his fingers together and change the reality around it you.

“That’s the best spot for pizza.”, he pointed and leaned closer and you pulled on your gloves again.

The smell of his cologne, rich with a hint of cinnamon and spice that it washed over you like Christmas Day. There was comfort that came with his presence, he was warm and affectionate that everything he did was the opposite of what you were used to. Your gloves were your armour, concealing your fingers that itched to hold his hand.

“Now I know the best place here but before I can take you there, you will have to be sworn into secrecy.”, he stopped all of a sudden that it took you a step and half to stop.

“Secrecy? What sort of place is this?”, you asked feeling baffled and some what unsure if you wanted to go.

“Ah ah, give me your hands.”, he held out his as he asked for yours and now was when you began to panic.

One more tug on your gloves and you knew they would unravel. So you turned to him slowly, you couldn’t help it that your guard was up. You wanted to trust him and yet you were afraid to. But he waited for you, his gaze soft and secure that your hands found his before your mind had come to a conclusion.

His hands were bigger than yours now that he held it, but what you soon came to realise was your armour was insufficient. His fingers curled around your wrist and you felt a fraction of his body warmth light your skin.

“State your name.”, he said and you smiled, his playful seriousness making you laugh. So you told him your name and he nodded with approval.

But he said your name with a pause that blood rushed to your cheeks, hearing it from his lips some how made it sound more special.

“Do you swear to hold this secret forever and always?”, he asked, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

What he didn’t know was your heart was already harbouring a secret. A longing for him. A secret that you will keep forever.

But you nodded anyway.

“I do.”, you said politely and it made him beam with joy. It was over, he will pull away his hands and you would be able to go back to securing your armour in place but instead, he held onto your hand as he started to run down the street.

“Now you will just have to prove yourself by completing a quest.”, his elated laugh thundered through you.

You matched his stride as he looked over at you and it was all in slowmotion, the warmth that spread through you, your smile mirroring his, the wind working wonders as it ruffled his hair while you pulled down your beanie. You were free falling and soaring at the same time.

He turned a corner and led you into a park that had a few people taking their nightly stroll. He held your hand securely in his as he walked down the path in search of something.

His eyes lit up at he looked ahead and when you followed his line of sight, you furrowed your brows in confusion. It was a playground which was set up like an obstacle course with monkey bars, a tunnel and a slide.

“Up the bars of fury, through the tunnel of fears and down the slide of wishes. You will have to finish this trial under a minute to prove your worthiness of keeping the secret.”, he instructed.

“What do I win?”, you bought into it and he turned to you his eye twinkling with delight.

His hands were quick as he pulled away your blue beanie and secured it behind his back. The cold air brushed against your cheek as you tried to snatch it back but he moved away.

“Finish the quest and you win your beanie.”, he laughed again and it became addicting, the sound of his laugh that you wanted to kindle it often.

He counted down and you began, your boots cruching against the crisp ground. The metal cold and slippery as you propelled further to land at the mouth of the tunnel. It was dark as you wriggled through it, your eyes focused on the start of the slide. His voice echoed through to let you know you had twenty more seconds.

You reached your final spot, you peered down to see him, one hand holding your beanie while with the other he kept time.

“Ten.”, he began to count. You didn’t wait, you slid down as you heard the final set of numbers.

“Three”

He had made the grave mistake of standing at the mouth of the slide.

“Two”

There was no stopping this collision. It was meant to happen.

“One”

You couldn’t stop, he realised too late. You bumped into him as you came to a sudden halt to try and change the course of history but you were already falling.

He groaned as he fell onto fresh snow with you landing on top of him. It was a mess. Your hair was splattered across his chest, your hands bracing his solid torso, you propped yourself up when you felt his cold touch again, the edge of his finger tips holding your waist beneath your jumper that had moved up. You inhaled sharply as you turned to face him only to see his cheeks were flushed with colour turning him deep red. His eyes bore into yours as you both shared a breath for a second.

He was a fool, here he was, fate had handed him a second chance on a platter and he was too stunned to speak.

This was out of control, this was a chance that could break this newly forming friendship or if he gave into his selfishness, he could take a risk.

“Did I win?”, you whispered and watched as his eyes darkened, his gaze flickering to your lips. It was almost as if you could read his thoughts. But could he read yours?

He could give in, he wanted to give in, he inhaled slowly, your perfume was going to haunt him in his sleep. He watched you wait, sit still to observe his move. And if he did something outrageous would you condemn him?

He didn’t know. He could sense you reading his thoughts the way your eyes glimmered with unsaid mystery and he slowly reclined his head back breaking the moment.

He wasn’t his brother. He had lost everything and for the first time, after the disaster, he had found a friend.

Your company felt soothing and freeing, he didn’t feel like that when he was in love with Jackie. Love was akin to anxiety and it was unsettling that he didn’t feel anxious around you. No butterflies fluttering around in his chest, it was the opposite. It felt grounded and secure, that wasn’t love.

Was it?

He wasn’t sure. He brought your beanie over your head and secured it to cover your ears. You watched the varied emotions flash across his face and you knew what it was. You knew how it felt when you needed more time, when it was difficult to trust.

“You did.”, he smiled and you stayed a second longer. His heart thumping wildly beneath your palm. His finger lingering on your cheek as his eyes read you like a novel he knew the language to.

You both needed time and you both knew it. But there was no one stopping you from having a moment. In the dark, in the corner of this playground. This second was only yours.

You raised your finger to push away the strand of hair that had fallen over his forehead when you felt the bump of a scar. Over his eyebrow, you couldn’t see it but now running your finger over it, you could feel it.

His breath hitched in his throat. His hands reached out to pull away your hand out of instinct but when he felt your fingers in his, he didn’t want to pull away. His heart settled within him and this moment felt natural.

How were you able to do it?

You watched him, the colour in his eyes wavered as he observed you like a hurt animal would. He held your hand in his, holding it away so you won’t go finding all his hidden scars.

Maybe if you showed him you meant no harm, would it ease him? It was a risk to take.

“Do you know how to heal a scar?”, you asked.

His eyes didn’t peel away from yours, “How?”, his voice was a soft whisper but he sounded like a man who wanted a remedy to his pain.

You pulled his hand up to your lips. The adrenaline in your body had given you enough courage. You pressed his finger tips against your lips and guided his hand back to stamp your kiss over his scar.

The gesture had sedimented his belief, that he needed you in his life. But was he brave enough?

He had made up his mind, he was full of resolve, he reached up to cup your cheek but the moment was gone.

You pushed away to get up and he was left defeated on the ground. It was all gone like how the wind had turned cold, his body craved your warmth and the chance the fates had given him, he had wasted it.

He watched as you dusted your hands to then wear your gloves, like they were meant to be sealed away from him.

You had to kill the feeling, the craving and the wanting. You put on your gloves and it reminded you how of things were supposed to be.

You held out your hand to him and he took it without skipping a beat. You pulled him up and dusted his shoulders but the air was thick with a feeling.

The feeling you both were actively trying to ignore.

He wanted to convince himself, that you and him were better off as friends.

He caught your eyes.