Mari

CHARACTERS👥

John Logan

NOW, I'LL HUG YOU: She's been stuck on the same issue for hours, on the verge of stress, and taking out her frustration on Tucker and Dean. Logan returns home and immediately realizes that Y/n doesn't need another explanation about the subject, but rather a break.

AT HIS TABLE: A Thanksgiving dinner was the last thing Y/n and Garret wanted to share with their father. Knowing that she and her brother wouldn't be able to handle it alone, Logan is there to help them through it.

Beau Maxwell

I'LL TAKE CARE OF IT: Even while recovering from a bad cold, Y/n decides to brave the storm to deliver an important assignment at the university. Seeing her arrive completely soaked, Logan realizes he can no longer think about the lesson, only about getting her home.

UNTIL IT DISAPPEARS: After his death, the apartment that was once his home became a museum of memories. And when Beau's last fragrance fades from his favorite sweatshirt, Y/n is forced to confront the one thing she's never been able to escape: the certainty that time keeps passing, even without him.

Eddie Munson

SOMEONE LIKE YOU: After his death, Y/N receives a bunch of cassette tapes, letters and objects that Eddie left for her, lovingly stored in a little box filled with love.

NOW WITHOUT YOU: Y/n and Eddie fight side by side to fulfill a plan that could save Hawkins, but it may cost them the love of a lifetime.

AMIDST THE STORM: Y/n goes into labor in the middle of a storm. Unable to get home or to the hospital, the group helps baby Munson come into the world.

LOVE HURTS: When Y/n sneaks into Hawkins with the group's help to visit her boyfriend's grave.

IT WAS A PLAN: Trapped for hours in the Upside Down, Eddie and Y/n begin to talk about the future as if it were guaranteed, even without knowing if they will get out alive. Nancy, her sister, overhears everything and begins to change her mind about Eddie and no longer doubts their relationship.

DAD'S LIFE: Years after the traumas of Hawkins, Y/n and Eddie learned to live away from the noise and fear of the Upside Down and began to hear sounds of giggles and babbling around the house, which was like a permanent bandage.

MOM'S MEMORIES: After the fire in which Eddie lost the last things that were mementos of his mother, Y/n appears in the trailer with a package of gifts for him.

NOTHING BEHIND CLOSED DOORS: Y/n and Eddie just want to watch a movie in her room, but Steve keeps making excuses to come in every five minutes. The two try to remain patient.

TOTAL ECLIPSE OF THE HEART: Y/n, who now lives in Lenora, feels that time is running out and becomes increasingly distressed, fearing she won't experience everything she dreamed of with Eddie. One night, while he's visiting her, Y/n tells him everything she feels, and then the unexpected happens.

NIGHTMARES OF THE PAST: Eddie is having nightmares again about the events in Hawkins, but there are only two things that make him forget all the wounds of the past: his wife and that little pink room.

BONDS AND TRAUMAS: Holly starts seeking out Eddie whenever she's scared, using the excuse of playing with dolls. He becomes "the uncle who scares away monsters," and this breaks Eddie down inside in a good way, because no one besides Y/n has ever trusted him like that.

YOU CAN'T DO THAT: Eddie realizes that Y/n is suppressing her own dreams to fit into Hawkins' life, and tries to bring her back to what she truly loves.

SOUNDS LIKE A MEMORY: A night of laughter, music, banter, flirting, and guffaws from Y/n, Eddie, and the band at The Hideout on a Tuesday.

A SUMMER DREAM: Eddie is gone, but the memories and plans haunt Y/n every night in nightmares. Well, they're such sweet and not at all scary dreams, which is a thousand times worse.

LONELY DAY: Before facing Vecna, the group is preparing in that large grassy field while preparing some weapons, unlike Eddie and Y/n, who are experiencing a moment from their own little world.

HALLOWED BE THY NAME: Y/n Byers receives Vecna's curse in 1986, but after 18 months she wakes up from her coma and then realizes she has an irreversible consequence.

A NAME FOR THE BABY: They can't choose a name for the baby. Every suggestion seems to have some reason for not being used, But then it's Grandma Joyce who encourages the name.

Steve Harrington

SIX NUGGET: Steve can finally take that trip with the love of his life and their six long-awaited children.

NIGHTS IN WHITE SATIN: Trapped in Vecna's mind, Y/n struggles to return to life. However, the scenario changes when an army of demodogs appears at the hospital, the radio playing her favorite song malfunctions and Steve has her in his arms while fleeing from the monsters.

I ALMOST LOST YOU: When Steve falls from the tower and is saved by Jonathan. But nothing can get Y/n out of her head for the next few days, which causes her to distance herself from her boyfriend.

FIRST LOVE: One of the kids on the baseball team tells Steve that he/she has a crush on someone and doesn't know what to do. Steve asks Y/n for help that night, feeling a bit lost and laughing at himself. They end up gently recounting how they fell in love.

Edmund Pevensie

WE HAVE TO CHANGE BAKERS: In which Y/n prepares a picnic for her boyfriend and bakes a cake. But let's just say she's not good in the kitchen.

YOU CALLED ME LOVE: Where Y/n calls him by that nickname.

LIKE YOU'VE DONE BEFORE: In which Edmund becomes jealous of the friendship that Y/n has with Caspian and ends up saying nasty things. Which results in a much bigger problem.

WILL YOU MARRY ME?? AGAIN...: Even after spending years dating and getting married in Narnia in the golden age, Edmund makes an important request to Y/n, However, now here in your world.

WE WERE THREE: When the Pevensie brothers and Y/n return to the teacher's house, Ed and Y/n despair when they see that they left someone behind.

WE WERE THREE²: Y/n and the Pevensies return to Narnia, still missing their son, but something they find ends up bringing comfort to their lives. At least a little.

BACK TO ME: Y/n was in the prophecy too. She ruled Narnia together with the Pevensies, but Peter made her marry the prince of another country due to agreements. But what happens when she is in love with Edmund and he is in love with her?

Prince Caspian

I WILL STAY WITH YOU: To which Y/n decides to stay in Narnia the second time and ends up meeting up with her brothers in the Dawn Treader. (Pevensie!Reader).

I WILL STAIN WITH YOU²: The Pilgrim's adventure ends, and everyone has to say goodbye to Ed and Lucy, as they have to return to their real world. But what about Y/n's heart, knowing that he will never see his brothers again?? (Pevensie!Reader)

Jake Peralta

IT'S NOT OK, BUT I'M HERE: Where y/n gets sick at work, and leaves the entire squad worried about the information she says before fainting.

TOTAL ECLIPSE OF THE HEART: In which Jake and y/n make a bet on who can arrest the most criminals and S/n has to fulfill the agreement at the end of the shift.

GREAT FRIEND OF YOURS: Jake and y/n have been friends for as long as they can remember, but as the years go by their feelings begin to turn romantic.

I THOUGHT IT WAS YOU: In which, y/n goes on a mission alone, things go wrong and Jake thinks his "best friend" has been murdered.

LITTLE GENIUS: That night is Jake's day to take care of his daughter at home, the night goes well with cabanas, a parade and sweets before dinner, but before going to sleep, little Peralta asks a question that leaves her father no reaction.

SHE WILL COME BACK: In which Y/n is expelled from the police and goes on an undercover mission in the mafia. However, Jake will have to live six months in doubt, after declaring his love for his best friend and receiving no response.

SHE WILL COME BACK ²: Six months passed, Y/n gathered the information needed to arrest the biggest mafia family and return to the squad. Of course, having to settle things with Jake first.

ACTS OF GIFTS: They have always been those couples who give gifts for nothing, but it is always good to remind the other person how much you love them. That is, apart from gifts.

Sirius Black

THE GENERAL: In which Sirius arrives at the Potter's house injured after the fight with his mother and Y/n wants to take revenge. But can his girlfriend really beat Walburga? (Potter! Reader)

THE GENERAL²: Where Y/n wants revenge for Sirius, but can she really beat Walburga?! (Potter! Reader)

COME FIND YOUR HALF SOON: Y/n and Sirius had broken up. The boy with dark hair was going through difficult days with his family and this was the only way to protect his girlfriend. However, on a rainy holiday day In the summer he appears at the girl's cousin's house, just on the day she was there. What happens when his ex sees him all bruised and burned?

I CAME TO APOLOGIZE: Y/n and Sirius have been having an affair since Hogwarts, but this shouldn't continue anymore, as he is married.

I CAME TO APOLOGIZE²: After years without him and all the problems, someone knocks on Y/n's door, making her surprised. And after a lot of talking, she needs to introduce someone to him.

OUT OF EVERYTHING: Y/n has a busy week due to her work as head girl and her boyfriend gives her a little surprise to make her relax.

MEMORIES MAKE ME CRY: When Y/n's father gives her a box from her childhood, memories come rushing over her feelings.

YOU'RE THE ONE THAT I WANT: Lily and James get married. And in the middle of their waltz, Y/n has a great choreography idea for when she gets married. And of course Sirius wouldn't fail to make a wish later.

IT'S YOUR WOMAN: When Y/n gets a trail bike from her father and her boyfriend had no idea she rode it. (Potter!Reader)

77' PARTY: To which, Sirius and Y/n's personalities are the same and they love going out in matching couples' outfits.

SUNFLOWERS TO MY LOVE: Where Sirius spends the Christmas holiday at the Potter's house and brings a little gift to his girlfriend. (Potter!fem! Reader)

GERONIMO'S CADILLAC: By day, they're just members of the marauders and great old friends, but by night, she's the woman of his dreams.

I WANT ONE: Y/n and Sirius spend time playing with Harry, making them want a baby too.

The rain had been falling on the city since dawn.

Y/n was still recovering from a bad case of the flu that had knocked her down for almost the entire previous week. The fever had gone away, her body didn't ache as much anymore, and the cough only appeared occasionally, but the cold insisted on leaving some traces.

Even so, there was a strong enough reason for her to leave home.

That day was the deadline for submitting one of the most important assignments of the semester, precisely for one of the most demanding subjects in the course. After checking that the assignment was safely inside her backpack, she put on a thicker coat, grabbed her umbrella, and left home convinced that she would make it to the university without any major problems.

For the first few minutes, it seemed like it would actually work. However, the wind began to blow more intensely, pushing the water in all directions. When he finally spotted the university building in the distance, it made no difference trying to escape the rain.

The bottom of her pants was completely soaked. Her sneakers sank with every step. Her coat weighed heavily on her shoulders, soaked as well. A few strands of hair escaped from under her hood and clung to her face. But all she wanted at that moment was to hand in that assignment, attend classes, and get home as quickly as possible.

Y/n walked down the main hallway of the building, and some students interrupted their conversation for a moment to glance at her. She, however, didn't even care about the stares, continuing to walk with the same firm purpose that had made her leave home that morning.

When he reached the room, he took a deep breath before pushing the door open, which caught the attention of some classmates scattered around the desks. Several heads turned in his direction at the same time.

Some smiled slightly, amused, upon realizing his condition. Others simply raised their eyebrows in surprise.

Y/n smiled back at whoever had looked at her, raising her hand in a discreet greeting as she entered.

The teacher looked up when she noticed his arrival, and it only took a second for her to observe the soaked bottom of his pants, the hair stuck to his face, and the persistent droplets still trickling from the tip of his nose, before a little laugh escaped her lips.

"Did you come to class or did you decide to participate in a swimming competition beforehand?"

Y/n looked at her own clothes and chuckled. "I guess the rain decided to play a trick on me today."

The teacher smiled even wider. "I'd say she completely lost the battle."

"He lost badly."

It was only when she laughed that Logan realized who had come through the door. As soon as he recognized Y/n walking between the desks, his relaxed expression vanished and his eyes widened immediately.

She was completely wet. Completely. The bottom of her pants was dripping, and there was a slight tremor in her arms that she seemed to be doing her best to hide.

Logan let out a long sigh, because the guilt came to him almost instantly.

How could he not have thought of that?

He knew she was still recovering from the flu. He knew the weather had turned awful that morning. He knew she would need to come in to deliver that assignment.

He could have simply asked if she wanted a ride. He could have stopped by her house before class. He could even have taken the assignment himself and explained the situation to the teacher. Any of those options would have avoided that scene.

Instead, Y/n crossed the city in the worst rain in weeks to arrive in that condition.

He discreetly pressed his lips together, clearly annoyed with himself, because he felt like the worst boyfriend at that moment.

When Y/n finally reached her wallet, she smiled, just like she did every day. She leaned in slightly and placed a quick kiss on Logan's cheek, completely unconcerned about the fact that she was still dripping water, and then put her backpack on the table.

Logan, however, remained motionless.

He continued to stare at her with the same incredulous expression as a few seconds before, and Y/n acted normally, as if she hadn't faced the worst rain of the month.

"What are you doing here?" Logan asked, not rudely, just overly curious.

She let out a small laugh, still searching for the folder among the notebooks. "Well... studying."

"I'm serious."

"Me too." Y/n chuckled and finally found the folder in her backpack, carefully pulling it out and quickly checking if the pages were still dry. "Today's the assignment is due. I've spent the whole week working on it. It would be a huge waste to miss it today."

"Y/N..."

"Yeah?"

Before she had even finished organizing the papers on her desk, Logan closed his notebook, put away all his materials, and without saying a word, stood up and gently took Y/n's hand.

"What..."

Startled by the unexpected movement, Y/n almost dropped the bag. The backpack swung dangerously open, causing some pencils to slide to the edge, and she managed to grab everything at the last second, completely confused as she tried to keep up with her boyfriend.

"We're going home, love."

She frowned. "What? Why?"

"You'll only get worse if you stay in those wet clothes for another ten minutes."

"But work..."

"Let me handle this, darling."

"Logan, I need..." Y/n tilted her head to look at her boyfriend.

"I'll handle it, darling!" Logan smiled gently, and before Y/n could say anything else, she sneezed, and he just raised an eyebrow. "That was exactly my argument."

Y/n let out an embarrassed giggle. "It was just a sneeze."

"And you're shaking."

"A little bit."

"You're still recovering from the flu."

"I'm much better."

And then this time, a cough; Logan just shook his head. The small movement of the two caught the teacher's attention, who noticed them already close to her desk.

"Is everything alright over there?"

Logan took another step forward, still holding Y/n's hand, and without hesitation, gently took the folder containing her work from her hands and handed it to her along with his own work.

"Sorry, teacher. I'm taking Y/n home because she's completely soaked and still recovering from her cold. But she did the work. And it's beautiful. Full of intelligence in here!" Logan gestured, pointing to the folder, and the teacher chuckled softly as she picked it up.

"Of that I had no doubt."

"Teacher, I really can stay. I just need to..." And just as Y/n was about to speak, another sneeze escaped.

"No, no! It's all right, guys, I understand. You can go, I'll give you the material later at a scheduled time!" The teacher was understanding, which made Logan subtly raise his eyebrows.

"Oh, thank you!"

Y/n tried to argue, but Logan gave her a light tap on the hip, which only made her sneeze again and thank the teacher for letting her go.

Logan thanked them again with a nod, and still holding hands, they left the room while the teacher watched them go with a discreet smile, shaking her head at Logan's admirable concern and Y/n's stubbornness.

As soon as they left the classroom block, the sound of the rain completely enveloped them again. Logan was still holding Y/n's hand firmly. It wasn't an uncomfortable grip, quite the opposite, it was one of those silent gestures that spoke louder than any words.

Before they even crossed the main threshold of the building, Logan had taken off his own coat and, without saying a word, simply lifted the garment above her head, covering her hair and part of her face.

The gesture was so spontaneous that it elicited a low giggle from Y/n.

"Logan... I don't need this."

He simply continued adjusting the coat over her head, making sure most of the rain wouldn't hit her. "You do need it."

"I'm already completely wet. It won't make a difference."

Logan continued to ignore the complaint, adjusting his coat more properly. "It'll make a difference from now on."

Y/n sighed, amused. "But you're going to end up getting wet too."

Logan finally met her gaze. His expression remained affectionate, but the smile that usually appeared so easily was practically absent.

"I'd rather get wet than let you get even colder." Y/n opened her mouth to reply, but he continued before she could. "You've been sick for almost a week, I'm not going to make it easy for that flu to come back."

"John..."

"Please." He smiled slightly. "This time, let me be stubborn."

Y/n stared at that face for a few more seconds. She knew Logan well enough to know when he simply wouldn't change his mind.

"Okay, you win!"

Logan simply nodded, smiling discreetly.

Even with that small smile appearing on his lips, Logan's expression remained more serious than usual. Y/n noticed immediately and therefore preferred not to insist, because she knew something was going through his mind.

Without saying anything more, Logan grabbed both backpacks with one hand, throwing the straps over his shoulder, and with the other he gently slid his arm around Y/n's waist.

The two quickly crossed the parking lot, dodging puddles as the wind insisted on spraying water against them. Logan slowed his pace only when they reached the truck and, without letting go of her waist, opened the passenger door, waited patiently for her to climb in, making sure she didn't slip on the wet step, and only then did he close the door and walk around.

Inside the truck, the heater slowly began to warm the room, and yet Y/n still shivered occasionally.

Logan noticed each of those small tremors at a certain moment; he reached out to find her hand, intertwined their fingers, and began to gently caress her, as if he wished, in some impossible way, to transmit all the warmth of his own body to her through that simple touch.

While he was driving, however, his thoughts found no rest. Guilt tightened its grip on his chest more and more.

He knew she was stubborn and knew she probably would have gone even if he had tried to convince her otherwise. Still, in his mind, that wasn't a valid excuse.

Because he should have anticipated the rain, he should have picked her up from home early in the morning, or simply insisted that she stay and rest. Perhaps he should have spent the previous night at her house to ensure she didn't go out in that state. Any option seemed better than imagining her walking through the university still weak after so many days of illness.

The more I thought about it, the more the guilt grew.

Not because he believed Y/n would blame him, but because he did it himself. Because for Logan, taking care of her never seemed enough; he always felt he could have done more.

When he finally parked in front of the house, the rain was still pouring down. Before Y/n could even reach the door handle, Logan had already gotten out of the truck.

He opened the passenger door and put his coat back over her head. With one hand holding hers and the other gently resting on her back, Logan helped her down carefully, keeping his arm around her waist as they walked briskly to the balcony.

It was only when they arrived at the front door of the house that Logan breathed a little easier.

Y/n took off her sneakers, leaving them by the door. Logan did the same before turning his full attention to her.

Gently, he removed her coat without bothering to fold it, simply placing it on the floor near the entrance. Without saying a word, Logan moved closer, his hands resting carefully on her shoulders, firm enough to guide her, and began to lead her towards the stairs.

"Go take a hot bath." The voice was calm, but carried a firmness that was hard to dispute. "I'll pick out some clothes for you."

Y/n looked up at him, and a smile almost automatically appeared on her lips. She took a small step towards him and, with all the delicacy in the world, raised her hand, gently touching his nose.

"There..." she said softly, smiling. "Now that serious expression can go away."

Then, as if that simple gesture had dispelled some of the tension he had carried since university, a discreet smile finally appeared on Logan's face.

"This is much better."

Logan chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Hurry up before you freeze, darling."

She nodded with a smile and went into the bathroom.

As the sound of the shower began to fill the room, Logan walked to the wardrobe, chose one of the softest sweatshirts he owned, and then picked out an equally warm pair of pants. Still not satisfied, he opened one of the drawers and took out two pairs of thick socks, because he knew that Y/n's feet always took longer to warm up.

Logan quietly entered the bathroom just long enough to leave all the folded clothes on the sink counter. After closing the door again, he went downstairs to the kitchen and took a few seconds to find exactly the medication Y/n still needed to take during her recovery.

She separated everything and placed it on a small tray along with a bottle of water.

And while doing that, he called the restaurant they both always chose when they wanted some hot food on cold days and placed the order without hesitation.

A soup for Y/n accompanied by warm bread. She also ordered something for herself, although she knew that her biggest concern at that moment was seeing her eat something before taking her medicine.

As soon as she took everything to the room, it didn't take long for Y/n to turn off the shower, and as she stepped out, a cloud of steam escaped into the room.

She appeared wearing Logan's baggy clothes, her hair damp, and always with a gentle smile on her face.

"I just love this sweatshirt because—" She started a conversation, but Logan closed the small distance between them, gently took her hand, and guided her to the desk chair. "What are you doing?"

Y/n frowned, sitting down in the chair. Logan picked up a hairdryer, approached the outlet next to the desk, and began to unwind the cord.

"I'm going to dry your hair."

She let out a low giggle, but her chest warmed in a way that was hard to explain.

"No need. My hair dries really quickly."

He simply plugged the plug into the socket. "Not today."

"But..."

"Honey! Stay still."

She laughed again. "Okay..."

As soon as the dryer was switched on, the noise filled the room. Logan began to carefully run his fingers through the damp strands of hair before directing the hot air.

"Where did this hairdryer come from?" Y/n had to raise her voice slightly to be heard.

"I got it from Allie," Logan replied with the utmost nonchalance, and she blinked a few times.

"Allie?"

"She's in Dean's room and I asked if she had a hairdryer there."

Sitting in the chair, Y/n watched Logan without any intention of hiding it.

Ever since they had left university, she had seen something different in him. He was still the same kind, patient, and absurdly affectionate Logan she had fallen in love with, but his expression remained somewhat closed off.

The small frown between her eyebrows insisted on appearing whenever she thought she wasn't looking, even while she was carefully drying each strand of her hair.

Even so, her hands never ceased to be delicate.

He remained still between her legs, completely focused on that simple task, and Y/n couldn't help but smile slightly. That man was incredibly caring, and she found herself thinking, once again, about how lucky she was.

He turned off the heater for a few seconds. "You're staring at me too much, darling."

Y/n giggled. "Am I?"

"Very!"

She tilted her head slightly. "You look handsome when you're concentrating."

"Was that an attempt to distract me?" Logan smiled slightly.

"Perhaps."

They both chuckled softly. But her smile faded slightly as she looked at his expression again.

"Love..." She waited until he looked into her eyes again. "Are you angry?"

"Just a little bit. But it has nothing to do with you. Never with you."

Y/n frowned, confused. "Then with whom?"

He remained silent for a few seconds before answering.

"With me."

Y/n kept looking at him. "Why?"

"Because I should have guessed this rain was going to fall." She tried to interrupt him, but John continued. "I should have picked you up this morning without even asking if you wanted to. Or I could have just done your university work and handed it in myself. Because I should have remembered that you were supposed to stay home and rest."

He let out a small breath, twirling a strand of her hair around his finger.

"Either I could have slept at your house last night. Or brought you here to sleep... Either option would have been better than letting you walk in that rain after being sick all week."

Each word made it clear how much he had blamed himself all this time, and without realizing it, her hair was already completely dry. Then, Logan placed the hairdryer on the desk, and Y/n remained seated, looking at him.

"The truth is..." He smiled slightly, but there was sadness in that smile. "...I'm feeling like a terrible boyfriend."

Y/n stood up from her chair, gently cupping his face in one hand. "You're not a bad boyfriend."

"Yes, I am."

"No, it's not!" Y/n smiled sweetly. "A terrible boyfriend wouldn't dry his girlfriend's hair. He wouldn't pack her medicine. He wouldn't lend her his warmest clothes."

"But even a terrible boyfriend forgets to pick up his girlfriend in the rain." Logan sighed, trying to smile at her.

"Logan..." She laughed and gave him a light pat on the chest. "You're not a bad boyfriend. And I'm not mad at you, if that's what you wanted to know."

"But you should," Logan argued.

"No, I shouldn't. And if you keep repeating that..." Y/n narrowed her eyes playfully. "...I'll fight with you."

Logan finally laughed for real, his hands naturally finding her waist. "And that means I survived the scolding?"

"Maybe." Logan smiled, and she cupped his face in her hands. "What can I do to make you stop feeling like a terrible boyfriend?"

His smile changed, becoming crooked and mischievous in a matter of seconds. Y/n recognized that expression immediately, and before he could even open his mouth, she started laughing loudly.

"No way!"

He arched an eyebrow innocently. "I didn't even say anything."

"But I know that face!" She kept laughing. "I can't offer sex right now because I'm still shivering from the cold and can barely stand."

Logan chuckled. "Fair enough."

She nodded, still smiling, and Logan then moved closer.

"So... how about we lie on the couch and binge-watch Friends while we wait for our food to arrive?"

Her eyes immediately lit up and her heart seemed to warm once more. Not from the bath, not from the warm clothes, not from the TV show, but because he had thought of absolutely everything to take care of her. Every detail.

"That's a great plan." Y/n smiled.

"Yes?" He closed the distance between them even further.

"Yes." She replied, looking directly at his lips, and Logan smiled.

He then put an arm around her waist and gently pulled her closer. Without any hurry, their lips met; the kiss was slow, calm, full of affection. His hands remained firmly on her waist, while Y/n slid her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss just enough to make him smile between touches.

The activity in the McLaren pits continued at its usual frenetic pace, but Y/n remained an anchor of serenity.

She was already a well-known figure for accompanying Lando Norris to every race his schedule allowed. Everyone in the paddock knew she had been his girlfriend for years. However, unlike what usually happened in the Formula 1 universe, Y/n never let herself be swayed by the artificial glare of the spotlights, the incessant flash of cameras, or the noisy hype and gossip pages about WAGs.

She preferred the calm backstage, the comfort of a crew sweatshirt, and the authenticity of living that relationship away from the media spotlight. It was precisely this relaxed, genuine, and down-to-earth attitude that made Lando's fans adore her so much.

On top of everything else, Lando was completely captivated by the way Y/n treated the world around her.

It didn't matter if it was the chief engineer, the mechanic in charge of changing tires, or a fan who spent hours at the fence waiting for an autograph: she distributed the same warm smile and the same sincere kindness to everyone. And perhaps, just perhaps, it was precisely the realization of how lucky he was to have her by his side that was making Lando's stomach clench so tightly on that particular day.

As soon as they crossed the paddock entrance, Lando reached for Y/n's hand, intertwining their fingers firmly. The movement drew attention and, as usual, a small group of fans approached shyly. The driver immediately flashed one of his characteristic smiles, waving warmly to those shouting his name and stopping to pose for the first photos of the day.

While Lando was signing autographs, Y/n scanned the small crowd and noticed a young girl holding her cell phone, hesitating, too afraid to step forward. With a gentle movement and a kind nod, Y/n broke through the girl's barrier of fear, encouraging her with a welcoming look to approach.

She naturally reached out and took her cell phone, stepped back a little, and carefully adjusted the framing to ensure the photo came out perfectly. When she returned the phone, Y/n leaned in to show the result, sweetly asking if the picture was good, receiving in return a huge smile and eyes brimming with pure emotion.

Watching that scene, Lando's heart clenched in that ridiculously lovestruck way. An absolute certainty that there was no one else in the world like his Y/n.

When the last fans thanked them and went their separate ways, the two finally walked side by side again towards the McLaren garage. Lando reached out and took her hand again, and it was in that very split second that Y/n frowned.

She gently squeezed his fingers, feeling the texture of his skin, squeezed again, and then made a funny face of pure distrust.

The pilot's palm was incredibly wet.

"Lando?!"

He turned his head immediately, slightly startled. "Yes, love?"

"Are you melting, by any chance?"

The Briton blinked a few times, clearly taken aback. "What?"

"Your hand is ABSURDLY sweaty." Y/n raised her clasped hands, shaking them slightly. "Seriously! I think you produced enough water to supply a small town."

Lando let out a quick laugh. "What an exaggeration!"

"Exaggerating? I can hear your hand making a noise. Listen!" Y/n squeezed his hand hard, making a funny noise that echoed between them. "I'm almost certain I just squeezed a sponge."

Lando laughed, glancing briefly at the floor before looking at her again. "Maybe I'm just... dehydrated."

"Hydrated?"

"Very hydrated." Lando nodded in agreement with feigned seriousness.

"You don't sweat from your hands because you're hydrated."

"He is sure?"

"Absolute." And/n smiled to the side.

Lando maintained a broad smile, but his green eyes betrayed something different. There was a restless spark, an invisible drumming, a palpable nervousness that he tried to disguise at all costs.

It was the exact expression of someone who was waiting for the clock to strike for a big revelation or trying to hide a gigantic secret.

Y/n raised an eyebrow. "You're acting strange."

"Thanks."

"That was not a compliment."

"I chose to interpret it as one."

She let out an involuntary laugh, shaking her head at his audacity.

Lando smiled immediately upon hearing that sound, and, for a brief glimpse, all the nervousness weighing on his shoulders seemed to evaporate at her laughter. Even so, when he took Y/n's hand again to enter the garage, she had the distinct impression that his fingers squeezed hers with a little more force and urgency than usual.

As soon as they crossed the garage line, Lando turned quickly and gave Y/n a loud, tender kiss on the lips. The sudden gesture made her face flush a deep crimson.

Lando let out a suppressed laugh and used his index finger to gently poke her nose, wrinkling his own nose in that childish and cute way he knew melted her heart. Y/n just waved her hand, trying to shake off the embarrassment.

And as the minutes ticked by while she was talking to Lily in the back of the garage, Y/n's attention kept wandering.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Lando every two steps. The driver seemed like a bundle of electricity: he checked his cell phone every five minutes, paced back and forth, and chatted animatedly with a group of people she had never seen in the paddock before.

A few minutes later, Lily had to step away to get some bottles of water from the hospitality area, leaving Y/n alone in the area reserved for family and guests.

Absorbed in the technical spectacle, Y/n took a few seconds to process a silent presence approaching from behind. Suddenly, strong arms wrapped firmly around her waist, pulling her back. A smile instantly blossomed on Y/n's lips.

Lando let his body weight fall slightly against hers and rested his chin on her shoulder, partially hiding his face in the crook of Y/n's neck, breathing deeply, as if trying to merge completely with her to draw energy.

"Shouldn't you be preparing for the race?" Y/n smiled, tilting her head to the side in an attempt to look at Lando's face.

The pilot simply shrugged, refusing to move an inch. "But I'm getting ready!"

"Preparing for what? Turning into a sloth?" She raised one hand and began to stroke his messy hair, which made Lando let out a long sigh of contentment.

"It's an innovative racing strategy."

Y/n chuckled. "Of course it is. How could I have doubted it?"

Lando tightened his arms around her waist a little more forcefully, and Y/n managed to turn slightly to look at him. The Brit sported a handsome smile, but that same restless, electric spark continued to dance in his eyes. The same mischievous expression of someone about to explode with a closely guarded secret.

Y/n narrowed her eyes. "Lando."

"Hm?" He hummed, his eyes still half-closed from the affection.

"You're still weird."

He pulled his face away from her neck and dramatically placed a hand on his chest. "This is starting to feel like persecution against me."

"You're acting exactly like a man who buried something illegal in his backyard and is expecting the police to find it at any moment."

Lando choked on his own saliva, letting out a loud laugh. "What?!"

"Or like someone who knows a huge piece of gossip and is making an effort not to tell the rest of the world." Y/n tilted her head, but a huge, curious smile spread across her face. "Oh! No way! You know some new paddock gossip. Tell me! Come on, Lando, tell me!" She started poking his ribs with her fingers, making the driver squirm and burst into laughter.

"Those are very specific comparisons, my God! And no, there's no paddock gossip, I swear." He shook his head, his gaze surprisingly soft. "I'm just... a little more nervous for the race today."

Y/n crossed her arms over her chest, not at all convinced. "You get nervous before every race, Norris. But normally you don't seem like a human sponge or try to use me like a teddy bear."

Lando laughed again, stepping closer and taking her arms. "Maybe I just love you too much."

"Wow! What a bombshell revelation! After all these years you decided to find this out minutes before getting in the car?" Y/n teased, raising an eyebrow in amusement.

"It was a shock to me too, I needed time to process it." Lando's eyes widened in a comical expression and he playfully placed his hand on his heart.

Y/n ended up laughing at the silliness, and Lando stopped to observe that smile. He stared at her for a moment that seemed to last an eternity. Too long. Too affectionate.

It was a deep gaze, the kind that seemed to take a mental snapshot to keep in memory forever.

Then, breaking the trance, he leaned down and placed a long, tender kiss on her cheek.

"I promise that after the checkered flag waves, everything will make sense."

Y/n arched her left eyebrow suspiciously. "That definitely didn't reassure me."

"Great!" He laughed, leaning in to give her another loud kiss.

"LANDO NORRIS!" Y/n protested loudly, trying to push him away lightly, but the smile on her own face betrayed that she was loving the affection.

Lando, however, was already walking quickly away down the hallway, laughing at her reaction.

Time flew by, and in the blink of an eye, the final preparations in the garage were being completed.

Lando was already wearing his full team suit and, as he did in absolutely every race, he walked purposefully to the area where Y/n was to say goodbye. Without warning, he cupped her face in his hands and placed a soft, deep, and lingering kiss on her lips.

The famous lucky kiss that had become a sacred ritual.

The gesture was so sudden and charged with a sweet intensity that Y/n felt her cheeks instantly burn. Lando stepped back just a few inches, a huge, victorious smile spreading across his face as he noticed the effect he was having on her.

It wasn't long before the official Formula 1 broadcast began cutting to live images coming directly from the pit lane.

One of the large cameras slowly rotated until it found Y/n's face. She was standing a few steps from the team's main monitors, finishing adjusting her large headphones.

Upon noticing the reflection of the lens pointed directly at her, she offered only a shy smile. Small. Gentle. Then, a brief nod, turning her attention back to the screens filled with telemetry graphs.

For Y/n, it had been just another casual shot. Just another camera among so many others. However, for the millions of people watching the live broadcast around the world, that split second was definitely anything but ordinary.

That's because, breaking with the pattern of all previous years, a new caption appeared on the bottom bar of the screen, right below his smiling face.

Y/n Norris - Lando Norris' Wife.

For a brief second, the world seemed to collectively hold its breath in a moment of pure confusion. Then, absolute chaos ensued.

In the stands, numerous fans began screaming and jumping in a state of utter shock. In the broadcast booths, commentators and analysts momentarily interrupted their technical analyses of tires to discuss this completely unexpected information. Social media simply exploded in a matter of seconds, flooded with posts in all caps and instant theories.

Y/n, on the other hand, remained in a bubble of complete ignorance.

Her eyes remained fixed on the track, focused on the start that was about to happen. She was completely oblivious and innocent to the fact that the entire world had just discovered a monumental twist in her own life.

Settled in the cockpit, Lando drove the car during the warm-up lap. As he passed one of the huge screens positioned along the side of the track, his eyes met a perfectly familiar image being projected. It was Y/n, smiling shyly and sweetly at the camera, exactly the way he knew so well.

And there, shining proudly just below, was the legend. The blessed legend he had been secretly planning since the previous Grand Prix.

That line of text that had required weeks of exchanged messages, whispered phone calls in the corners of the motorhome, and a truly absurd amount of nervousness. Upon seeing the result on the screen, an inevitable smile appeared on Lando's face beneath his helmet.

Throughout the race, the international camera crew repeatedly turned their cameras to the McLaren pits. On some of these occasions, the lenses focused on Lily, who responded by waving. On others, they focused directly on Y/n, and the young woman's reaction was exactly the same in every take.

But with each new appearance of her face on TV, a new audible chorus of applause arose from the packed stands. The legend remained strong for the entire planet. Except for her.

When the checkered flag finally crossed the track, the results on the timesheet showed that Lando had unfortunately not secured a podium finish that day. However, the fifth place he achieved was an important result for the phase the team was going through.

Because he didn't have to go through all the bureaucracy and lengthy interviews reserved for the top three finishers, Lando's journey back to the garage was much quicker and easier.

The moment he crossed the pit lane and the two locked in a tight, relieved embrace, the grandstand directly in front of the McLaren garage erupted in a boisterous celebration of shouts and applause directed at them.

Surprised by the intensity of the audience's reaction, Y/n shyly hid her face in her shoulder, causing Lando to let out a vibrant laugh.

But even while laughing, the pilot felt that old pang of nervousness return to his stomach with full force. After all, the main part of his plan still needed to happen.

He still had to place the order correctly.

The frenetic pace of the paddock gradually slowed as the late afternoon approached.

And as a sort of unbreakable rule between the two, before returning to the hotel and bidding a final farewell to that country, Lando and Y/n always reserved a moment for a leisurely stroll along the empty runway.

Lando walked calmly beside her, pointing with his hand and explaining in detail how the car behaved on each of the most difficult curves, discoursing on what he could have done differently to perhaps have snatched a trophy that weekend.

Y/n, however, had her thoughts wandering to a completely different place.

While Lando was in the long post-race meeting, some random people in the paddock started approaching her, wishing her "congratulations" and "best of luck in this new phase."

She simply couldn't understand it, especially since she didn't think her life was suddenly changing course. Even so, true to her sweet nature, she simply politely thanked everyone for their greeting.

"And right here at turn four..." Lando cut himself off mid-sentence as soon as he turned his face and looked at her.

Y/n stared back at him with a visibly confused expression, as if a huge question mark were floating above her head. He stifled a laugh at her face.

"I'm talking too much about telemetry and motorsports, aren't I? I'm sorry, my love!" Lando chuckled softly and extended his arm, pulling her by the shoulders into a hug as they continued their walk.

"No, that's not it." She replied in a soft voice.

Lando was the one who frowned this time, slowing his pace.

"Hm... now you're the one with the strange look on your face, darling." He smiled slightly, watching her reactions closely. "Do you want to tell me something?"

"It's just... Hmm." She began, biting her lower lip, unsure how to broach a subject she found so peculiar. "Lan, why have the journalists and paddock staff spent the afternoon congratulating me and calling me 'Norris's wife'?" Y/n finally asked, but maintaining a perfectly sweet and calm tone.

Lando's heart leaped violently in his chest, its rhythm beating absurdly fast, and he let out a typically nervous but visibly satisfied chuckle.

Their walk slowed until it stopped completely, right at the most beautiful point of the circuit, where the horizon opened up to a spectacular sunset in shades of orange and pink.

Lando swallowed hard, unsure where to begin. He wanted everything to be perfect, because she deserved the best, most sincere, and most romantic words of love he could muster.

"Lan? You froze!" Y/n laughed loudly, although a tiny bit of nervous anticipation was beginning to form in her stomach at his silence.

Lando let out another breath of tense laughter. "I can explain everything, but you have to promise me you won't laugh at me. Maybe it sounds a little silly."

Y/n's gaze softened instantly and she smiled tenderly.

"I'm not going to laugh. And you're never stupid!" She gave him a light nudge with her index finger on the shoulder, and that simple touch gave Lando the final dose of courage he needed to take the next step.

"Well... I organized something today..." He began, scratching the back of his neck. "Today, during the TV broadcast, whenever the camera focused on you in the garage, it kind of showed another name in the on-screen caption. That's why the fans started shouting in the stands and people in the paddock are congratulating us and asking questions."

Y/n blinked repeatedly, a confused laugh escaping her lips. "What?"

"I asked the Formula 1 image directors to change your maiden name to Norris." Lando let out a nervous laugh.

Y/n stood motionless for a few seconds, simply processing the sentence and staring at his face to see if it was true. Immediately afterwards, her eyes widened immensely.

"You broadcast this on worldwide television?!"

"Perhaps...?"

"Lando!" She laughed and nudged his shoulder again, convinced that it was just another one of those inside jokes and pranks they used to play every day.

"The entire McLaren team knew about it. They loved the idea and helped get it approved by the FIA ​​directors."

Y/n brought both open hands to her face, covering her cheeks which were starting to heat up again. "Oh, my God..."

"And now you finally understand why I'm sweating like a sponge in the morning."

"That's by far the most elaborate and creative prank you've ever come up with!" Y/n laughed innocently, her brain not fully grasping what her boyfriend was doing. "I really liked it. I thought it was super funny and cute."

Lando frowned, taking a step forward. "A prank?"

"Yeah!" She continued laughing.

However, Lando remained completely serious. His eyebrows rose slightly, revealing a mature, meaningful smile at the corner of his mouth. Y/n blinked, her laughter slowly dying in her throat as she analyzed the depth of his gaze.

"What...?"

Lando kept his tender, calm smile fixed on her. And it was in that moment of silence that Y/n felt her heart race in a way she had never experienced before.

Suddenly, the curtain of confusion parted, and she understood.

She understood the reason for all his anxiety from early on, she understood why he had moved heaven and earth to talk to those people in black in the garage, and above all, she understood why Lando continued to look at her with that overwhelming intensity.

His thoughts finally aligned with the reality of the situation.

Oh. Oh.

"Lando..."

"Well..." He smiled extremely sweetly, taking another short step until they were almost touching. "It's not exactly a joke or a prank."

The pilot reached into his side trouser pocket, and in that exact second, it all clicked into her mind. Y/n's eyes instantly filled with tears, blurring the landscape of the circuit.

"LANDO!" That was the only word her throat could manage to form at that moment, a mixture of shock and happiness.

Lando let out a laugh, the sound a little muffled.

With his thumb, he leaned down and wiped away the first tear that had escaped down her face before she even realized it.

"I thought it would be really strange if they kept introducing you as my girlfriend on TV after today. And I thought it would be nice to ask you out in a slightly different way than usual." Lando shrugged, his eyes fixed on hers. "Even though I know you can't stand the spotlight and the cameras..."

She tilted her head slightly to the side, the most beautiful smile in the world spreading across her lips. In that microsecond, Lando knew everything was alright. More than alright. Much more than perfect.

"I really wanted to introduce you to the whole world as my wife... All that's left is for me to make the official proposal and for you to accept becoming a real Norris."

For a moment that seemed to freeze time, the entire universe around them appeared to simply stop spinning for the two of them.

Lando knelt down, right on that stretch of asphalt where, hours before, he had cruised at over two hundred kilometers per hour inside a cockpit. There, under the golden and poetic light of the sunset that Y/n loved to capture so much. There, where at that moment there were no photographers' lenses pointed at anyone.

On that empty track, there existed only: the man she loved with all her heart and the woman for whom he would give his own life.

Nothing more and nothing less.

"Y/n L/n... Do you want to marry me and officially make your name Lando Norris' wife on the Formula 1 broadcast?"

Y/n stared at him for just a second, trying to take in the sight of the man kneeling before her, before bursting into genuine laughter, mixed with emotional sobs.

"I accept!" She exclaimed, laughing and crying at the same time in a beautiful mess of feelings. "I ACCEPT! And I also accept that they change my name on the TV broadcast forever!" Y/n joked, and Lando let out a laugh.

"Great!" he said, his eyes shining with relief as he held her left hand with the utmost care. "Because, to be quite honest, I filled out all the paperwork months ago."

"Lando!"

"I'm just being an efficient pilot, my love!"

Y/n let out another laugh, wiping her face with her free hand as she watched her fiancé slide the ring onto her ring finger.

As soon as he finished adjusting the ring, Lando didn't wait another second: he closed the distance between them, wrapped his arms around her waist, and pulled her close, pressing his lips to hers in a deep kiss. A kiss interrupted only by soft giggles from both of them.

For Y/n, nothing made sense anymore.

Outsiders might think she was exaggerating, but those who were truly in her life knew how Beau's death completely and utterly affected her emotional, mental, and physical health.

Beau meant everything to her, no exaggeration.

They had been dating since elementary school, nurturing that sweet and innocent love of 13-year-olds. Over the years, as the world changed around them, the two matured together, transforming their youthful passion into an unbreakable and deeply rooted connection.

When the time came for them to go to university together, Beau made sure to ask her parents for their blessing so they could live together on campus, almost like a marriage, because he really took their relationship seriously.

To an outsider, this gesture of asking permission to share a university roof might seem petty, but when it came to being respectful, protective, and loving towards Y/n, Beau would do anything to achieve perfection.

Every detail mattered to him, as long as she felt safe and valued.

The first three years at Briar U were simply wonderful and incredible. Beau had earned a scholarship to be the captain of the football team, shining on the field, while Y/n had secured a top spot as the leading student in her course.

It was a beautiful, routine, and deliciously sweet life.

Each gray morning became welcoming simply because they woke up under the same roof.

But everything fell apart overnight.

It was like taking candy away from a happy child. Like a bucket of cold water in the dead of winter or a violent and unexpected physical collision in American football.

That morning he was in her arms, warm and full of life, and the next day he was in a cold wooden coffin.

The apartment ceased to be a place to live and came to exist only to preserve what it once was.

His sneakers remained exactly where they had been left, near the front door. In the freezer, the tub of his favorite ice cream always occupied the same space; when it expired, it was replaced by an identical one, which also ended up expiring intact. The mug Beau used every morning remained on the dish rack, clean, dry, and untouched. His charger remained plugged in beside the bed. Some books remained open on the desk, exactly on the page where he had stopped reading. Even the television remote rested on the left side of the sofa, where it had always belonged to him.

It was a collection of small details that, viewed in isolation, seemed insignificant, but together they sustained the painful illusion that Beau was simply late coming home.

Y/n also never managed to reorganize her wardrobe.

His clothes remained hanging, folded, or forgotten on the shelves, exactly as before. And little by little, without even realizing it, Beau's sweatshirts ceased to be just memories and became a part of her.

She slept in them, studied wearing them, went shopping wearing another. On difficult days, she would change her sweatshirt two or three times, as if each piece of fabric carried a different part of the man she loved.

And when she was about to leave the house wearing one of her sweatshirts, she had developed a habit she never told anyone about: she would open Beau's perfume bottle and carefully spray it on the collar, cuffs, or chest of the sweatshirt she would be wearing that day. Just enough so that when she moved her head, she could feel that he was nearby.

The grief was already heavy enough, and yet life seemed to find new ways to hurt her.

That late afternoon, after much insistence, Y/n finally accepted Allie and the boys' invitation to have dinner at the hockey house. They didn't want her to spend another night alone, surrounded by the sepulchral silence of the apartment.

She opened the wardrobe without really thinking and, as she had done since Beau left, automatically reached for one of his sweatshirts. The soft fabric slid down her arms with the familiar feeling of comfort that only those clothes could still provide. For a moment, she closed her eyes, hoping that his scent would envelop her as it always did.

But there was almost nothing.

She inhaled again, more deeply. There was only a distant scent, so faint it seemed to exist only because her memory insisted on completing it.

Without thinking, she walked quickly to the small shelf where she kept her cosmetics, her fingers immediately searching for Beau's perfume bottle. She quickly lifted it, already preparing her index finger to press the spray nozzle.

Nothing.

Tried again.

Again.

Not a single drop. Not a single spray.

And then the memory hit her with the force of a wave in a rough sea.

Beau had bought that perfume during a trip to France. She perfectly remembered his excitement when explaining that it was a limited edition, produced for a short time and that it would probably never be manufactured again. At the time, she had just laughed at his enthusiasm, saying that a perfume was just a perfume. Now she understood the crushing weight of those words.

There was no other one to buy.

There was no replacement.

There was no way to get that smell back.

There was no way to bring Beau Maxwell back.

And for the first time since the funeral, Y/n realized that even the party favors had an expiration date.

The perfume faded. After it, the fabric would lose its scent. Then, her own memory would fail. And someday, she might no longer be able to remember exactly what Beau smelled like when he hugged her.

That thought destroyed her completely.

"No..." Her voice came out almost inaudible. She pressed the spray nozzle again, but nothing happened. "No... no, no, no!"

Her hands began to tremble uncontrollably as she shook the small glass bottle desperately.

"Please... please..."

Then, the glass slipped between her fingers, damp with cold sweat. For a brief second, she tried to catch it in mid-air, but failed. The bottle hit the floor with a dry crack, the sound of shattering glass echoing throughout the room, scattering small, glistening shards across the floor.

The last, invisible particles of the fragrance dissipated into the air before she could even reach them.

Y/n remained motionless for a moment, staring at the wreckage. Then, she took a step back, and another. Her legs completely gave way, causing her to fall back onto the edge of the bed.

Without even realizing it, he pulled Beau's sweatshirt against his chest and gripped it so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He buried his face in the rough fabric in a desperate attempt to find any trace of that scent. Any memory.

But the fabric now carried only her own scent.

Tears began to fall before she could even breathe properly. They came fast, heavy, uncontrollable, soaking her sweatshirt as her shoulders trembled in silent, painful sobs.

She wasn't just crying over a broken bottle on the floor. She was crying because Beau's scent was fading, and with it, another piece of the man she had spent her whole life trying to keep was slipping away.

Y/n didn't realize how much time had passed since she started crying.

Outside, the city lights began to come on as the sun set, and Y/n was already more than two hours late for dinner.

At the hockey house, dinner should have finished on time. But before any of the boys could decide to go out looking for her, Allie and Hannah exchanged a discreet glance and left before everyone else.

Because Y/n was the type of person who would never fail to let them know if they weren't going to show up, this immediately raised a red flag in the hearts of the two friends.

A few minutes later, the two were already crossing the lobby of the building where Y/n lived. The elevator would take much longer than they were willing to wait, so they climbed the flights of stairs almost without noticing.

Hannah slowed her pace as she approached the familiar door and cast an uneasy glance at Allie, who merely returned the same worried expression.

"Is she home?" Hannah raised her hand and patted gently.

Allie frowned slightly, noticing a detail, and discreetly pointed her chin toward the lock. "The door is unlocked, Hannah."

Hannah's eyes immediately went back to the doorknob and her stomach churned.

"Y/n..."

With extreme care, Hannah pushed the door, which opened smoothly without offering any resistance. The apartment was completely dark, immersed in a silent gloom, and she stood for a moment on the threshold, observing the room shrouded in cold shadows.

Allie came in right behind her and closed the door slowly, trying not to make a sound. "Y/n, honey... it's Allie and Hannah. Are you there?"

His sweet voice echoed through the empty apartment, sounding a little louder than usual in the hope of reaching her in some back room.

No answer came back. Hannah took a small step forward, ready to search for her friend in the darkness, and that's when they both heard: loud, broken, desperate sobs coming directly from the hallway leading to the room.

"Oh, damn it!" Allie didn't wait any longer, she ran down the hallway without even thinking about taking off her shoes, and Hannah followed right behind, driven by the same desperation.

The scene they encountered instantly took their breath away. Y/n was still sitting exactly where she had fallen hours before, and the room remained completely dark; the only light came from the streetlights filtering through the windowpane.

She was curled up at the edge of the bed, her fingers clenched so tightly around Beau's sweatshirt that they seemed stiff and unable to relax. The collar was completely damp, not only from the tears that were still falling at that moment, but from the countless others that had been shed during those two long hours of solitude.

Y/n then slowly raised her head, and her red, swollen eyes met Allie and Hannah standing in the doorway. There was so much despair in that look that no words in the world would be enough to describe it.

It looked like the gaze of someone silently begging to be saved from unbearable pain, as if desperately needing someone to heal a wound that everyone knew would take years to heal.

Allie bit her lower lip hard, fighting the lump that had formed in her throat to stop her own tears from escaping, but she couldn't say anything immediately; she just walked resolutely to her friend. Behind her, Hannah took a deep breath before reaching for the light switch, and the light flooded the room all at once, revealing the shards of glass scattered across the floor.

"Oh, my dear..." Allie's voice echoed through the room like a warm embrace.

Upon hearing it, Y/n seemed to finally allow some of that absurd tension to leave her body.

"He... he's leaving..." Her voice came out terribly broken between the sobs that insisted on choking her.

Y/n gripped Allie's shoulders tightly, as if that presence was her only chance of not sinking completely into an abyss, and Allie immediately hugged her back.

Without saying a word, Hannah sat down on the other side of Y/n and gently brushed away some strands of hair that had stuck to her tear-stained face.

Allie remained embracing Y/n for a few more seconds, letting her cry at her own pace, without rushing. One of her hands gently stroked her back, while the other rested firmly on her shoulders, as if silently saying that she would never again have to face that storm alone.

When the sobs finally subsided a little, Allie stepped back just enough to look directly into his bloodshot eyes.

"What happened, my dear?" The question came out softly and extremely delicately, conveying peace.

"I... I feel like he's leaving." Tears welled up in her eyes again as she spoke those words. "Everyone says that pain gets better with time... but I don't want it to get better if it means losing another piece of him." Y/n gripped the bluish sweatshirt even tighter between her trembling fingers. "I'm afraid I'll wake up one day and not remember exactly his voice... the way he laughed... the feeling when he hugged me... his smell... What if one day I forget? What if I start remembering only parts? What if... what if Beau becomes just someone who existed in my life, instead of being the love of my life?"

Y/n's breath hitched again, despair returning to take over her mind like weeds choking a beautiful field of flowers in spring.

"I don't want him to disappear. I need Beau forever!"

The room remained in reverent silence for a few moments, broken only by Y/n's uneven breathing. It was Hannah who took the initiative to speak first.

"Y/n... Beau will never be forgotten." She offered a tender smile through her own teary eyes. "Not by you... not by us."

Y/n slowly lowered her gaze and lifted Beau's sweatshirt a few inches, holding it against her chest as if it were the most precious jewel on Earth.

"But even his scent is fading... If even that's gone... then I'm forgetting him. I'm forgetting the love of my life!" Y/n looked with a piercing despair directly into Hannah's eyes.

Allie felt her own heart clench in her chest, and with extreme care and tenderness, she held her best friend's face between her soft hands.

"Look at me." Y/n obeyed the gentle command, looking at her. "Do you remember the first party at university?" Y/n sniffed softly, but nodded slightly. "You spent half the night looking for Beau because he had disappeared, and when you finally found him, he was sitting in the kitchen because a lost puppy had gotten into the house and he was feeding pieces of his own hamburger to the little animal."

A weak, involuntary laugh escaped Y/n through her tears as she recalled the scene, and Allie smiled broadly, noticing the reaction.

"You looked at him with that loving look only you can give... and he didn't even notice. He was too busy talking to the dog." Hannah chuckled softly, enjoying the relaxed atmosphere. "And remember when you two showed up at the boys' house completely soaked because you decided to walk back in the rain?"

Y/n nodded once more, letting the memory comfort her.

"Beau seemed like the happiest man in the world. While everyone else was complaining about the rain, all he could say was that it had been the best trip of his life because you were laughing the whole way."

Tears were still streaming down Y/n's face, but now there was a different kind of calmness to them, a glimmer of peace that hadn't visited her in a long time.

Allie spoke again, maintaining her soft and welcoming tone.

"Do you really think a love like that can disappear because a perfume ran out? My dear... his scent might fade. Clothes will age. Photographs will fade. Some small memories might become harder to reach." She took a deep breath, looking at her best friend with all the truth she possessed. "But Beau didn't live inside that bottle. He lives in you. He lives in the way you still fold your sweatshirt sleeves because that's how he did it. He lives in the habit of leaving ice cream in the freezer. He lives in the care you take of this apartment. He lives in every story you tell without realizing it. And, above all, he lives in the strong and mature woman you became by his side."

Hannah held one of Y/n's hands affectionately, squeezing it tenderly. "And if some memory ever slips away... you can call any of us. Because we have hundreds of stories about the two of you."

Y/n flashed a genuine smile as a much calmer tear slowly rolled down her cheek.

"Thank you..." Y/n's voice came out almost in an emotional whisper.

Allie smiled, her eyes filled with affection. "That's what family is for."

For a few seconds, the three friends remained in a comfortable silence. Until Allie let out an unexpected giggle while looking at the floor, her mind probably wandering to some hilarious memory from the past.

Y/n pulled away slightly from the hug, though she still held Beau's sweatshirt tightly against her chest. "What?"

Allie shook her head negatively, amusing herself with her own thoughts. "Dean told me a story the other day. About how Beau decided to win you over when you were still in elementary school."

Y/n partially covered her face with the fabric of her sweatshirt, already accurately predicting what the story was about.

"No..."

Allie started laughing openly. "Yes!"

Hannah looked on with extreme curiosity. "Wait, I don't think I've ever heard this story."

Y/n let out a soft laugh for the first time that night. "Because there are two versions."

"The romantic one and the one Dean saw!" Allie said, chuckling, while Hannah alternated her gaze between the two expectantly.

"So... who's going to tell the story?"

Allie playfully nudged her best friend's ribs. "Do you want to tell your romantic version or the completely disastrous version that Dean swore happened?"

Y/n shook her head from side to side, smiling with immense and sweet longing.

"I can tell you the romantic part." She discreetly wiped the corner of her eyes with the back of her free hand. "The part about Dean... I really don't know where he gets those stories from."

The three laughed together, breaking the heavy atmosphere of the room once and for all.

Allie spoke with a radiant smile. "Let's start with the funny part. According to Dean, Beau spent an entire week rehearsing how he was going to ask to sit next to Y/n in class. Dean told me Beau even practiced in front of the mirror at home."

Hannah's eyes widened, genuinely surprised. "You're kidding!"

"He wanted to seem confident. He was just a thirteen-year-old baby!" Y/n defended her boyfriend immediately, but couldn't contain her own laughter, which made the other two stare at her with silly smiles on their faces.

Allie continued the story. "But when he finally mustered the courage to go to her, he walked to the wallet so nervously that he tripped over his own shoelace. Dean said he fell to his knees right in front of her."

Hannah was already laughing hysterically at this point. "No..."

"Yes!" Y/n confirmed, laughing along. "Dean's right about that part, and I had to help him. And the funniest thing is that everyone in the room thought he was making a super elaborate declaration of love. The girls started 'aww' before they even understood what was actually happening. And according to Dean, Beau completely panicked, stood up so fast he dropped his own backpack and scattered all his notebooks on the floor..." Y/n laughed loudly, the image vivid in her mind from so many years ago. "Beau even asked me if he could sit at the desk next to me while he picked up his notebooks from the floor." She shook her head amidst the laughter, feeling her chest ache a little with nostalgia, but this time it was a pain accompanied by an extremely comforting warmth. "But he never told me about that part about practicing in front of the mirror."

"Of course he didn't tell." Allie smiled knowingly. "In his version, it was all perfectly planned and executed."

"And wasn't it?" Hannah asked, finding the story adorable.

Y/n looked at the sweatshirt in her hands with immeasurable fondness. "But it was even more beautiful precisely because everything went wrong."

Silence returned to fill the room softly. But this time, it was no longer a dense or suffocating silence. Sadness still lingered. An immense longing still existed. A profound emptiness still remained that could never be completely filled by anything else in the world.

But amidst all that inevitable pain, there also resided the vivid memories of a thirteen-year-old boy tripping over his own shoelace just to sit next to the girl he was hopelessly in love with. Of a college student with a huge heart who would interrupt any task to feed a stray puppy. Of a boyfriend who would cross the entire city in a downpour just because she was laughing beside him.

The darkest parts of Y/n's mind seemed to have received a small, bright sliver of light brought by Beau's golden memories.

Allie met Hannah's gaze in the dimly lit light, and the two exchanged a discreet, relieved smile. Not because Y/n's pain had miraculously vanished, but because for the first time that difficult night, she was no longer facing all that darkness alone.

Hannah was the first to break the silence with affection.

"See? You said you were forgetting Beau... but you just remembered the first time he spoke to you. I'm sure in your head, you remembered the exact outfit he was wearing, how embarrassed he felt at the time, the way he asked to sit next to you..." Hannah nodded, smiling broadly. "That's not forgetting someone. You know and cherish every little bit of him deep inside, Y/n."

Allie nodded and firmly held one of Y/n's hands.

"You know what his favorite ice cream was, what song he sang off-key while washing dishes in the kitchen, how he folded his sweatshirt sleeves, how he smirked when trying to hide that he'd done something wrong... Because you truly paid attention to him for years, and nobody forgets a love built with so much care."

Hannah smiled with the same sweetness as before. "And if one day homesickness makes you believe you're forgetting something... we'll remind you. Every day if necessary."

"And the two of us..." Allie glanced quickly at Hannah before focusing all her attention on Y/n. "...we'll keep remembering how he looked at you."

Y/n brought one hand to her face to wipe away a lone tear that was running down her cheek.

"He always looked at me like I was the most beautiful thing in the whole room..." Her voice came out low, heavy with longing, but incredibly sweet. "Even when I was wearing one of his old sweatshirts, with my hair all messy and complaining about my college subjects... And I never really understood how someone could love another person like that..."

Allie smiled, her eyes shining. "Because it was Beau."

Y/n took a deep breath, feeling the air enter her lungs more easily, and looked gratefully at her two friends who were there.

"Thank you... for not letting me go through this alone."

Hannah nodded almost immediately in affirmation. "We'll always be here! Today, tomorrow, and forever!"

Allie nodded with a wide smile, although biting her lip seemed to be the only thing stopping her from crying as well.

Without saying another word, Hannah and Allie simultaneously leaned in to hug Y/n. She ended up completely squeezed between the two of them, which made her let out a muffled giggle against their shoulders.

"You're trying to crush me."

"We are!" Allie replied without showing the slightest hint of remorse. "But it's therapeutic."

"Recommended by the best friends in the world," Hannah finished, making the three of them laugh together again amidst that tangle of affection.

When the hug finally ended, Allie got out of bed with energy, walked purposefully to Y/n's wardrobe, and placed her hand firmly on the door. Before actually opening it, she turned her face back, displaying a gentle smile.

"Can I open it?"

Y/n nodded with a small, silent movement of her head, and Allie opened the closet, finding Beau's row of sweatshirts neatly organized and folded on the shelves.

Then, with a dramatic flourish, Allie began to remove the sweatshirts one by one, throwing them all onto the bed without even looking back. Two of the sweatshirts ended up hitting Hannah and Y/n directly in the face consecutively, eliciting laughter from both of them.

However, both of them quickly frowned, not quite understanding the purpose of that sudden mess Allie had created.

"Allie... What are you doing?" Y/n asked, laughing.

Allie placed her hands on her hips with a firm posture, as if she had just devised the most foolproof plan of all time.

"The three of us are going to find out which one still smells most like Beau." She pointed with her chin to the colorful mountain of scattered sweatshirts. "And that sweatshirt will be the one you choose to wear to dinner with us at the boys' house."

Y/n blinked a few times, genuinely surprised by the proposal. "You... still want me to go?"

Allie made an exaggerated and funny face at her.

"Of course! Everyone's been eagerly waiting for you, sweetheart!" She smiled enthusiastically. "Tucker spent the whole afternoon in the kitchen preparing a lasagna that, in Dean's own words, is so good it's enough to spark a serious family argument."

Hannah quickly joined in on Allie's joke. "He swore up and down that it's the best lasagna on the whole planet."

"And nobody's going to let that bunch of hungry people eat a single bite before you get there."

Y/n felt her chest tighten again, but this time, the sensation came for a completely different reason.

She realized she wasn't alone in the world. Even while going through the most painful, gray, and difficult period of her entire life, she remained surrounded by incredible people who actively insisted on staying right there, by her side.

People who deeply respected the magnitude of her pain, but who refused to let her sink into it without a fight. People who perfectly understood that Beau could never be replaced in her story and who would never try to occupy the sacred space that belonged only to him.

That night, Y/n understood that there truly was no perfume in the world capable of physically bringing Beau back, no fabric or sweatshirt that could forever hold the physical essence of his scent, and no object large enough to contain the immensity of a lifetime of shared love.

But perhaps the memories shared and kept alive between friends were far more enduring than any limited-edition fragrance.

Perhaps Dean's funny stories, Hannah's protective sensitivity, Allie's tight and comforting hug, the lovingly prepared meals by the hockey boys, and the quiet love of everyone who ever knew and loved Beau were the true vessels capable of preserving what truly mattered forever.

Because as long as there was even one person willing to remember Beau with a genuine smile on their face, he would never completely disappear from the Earth.

And, for the first time since the day she lost the great love of her life, Y/n felt that perhaps it was possible to continue walking step by step. Not because the painful longing in her chest had diminished in size, but because she finally understood that she would never again have to carry it alone.

Phil Graham never called without a reason. And, in the twins' experience, it was rarely a good reason.

He emerged from under the sink without wasting any time, dropping the tool somewhere on the countertop before turning his full, worried attention back to it.

To be completely honest, it was never a good reason.

When their father's name appeared on the illuminated screen of their cell phone, both Y/n and Garret knew it immediately. It didn't matter where they were or what they were doing at that exact moment; that simple call was enough to make their stomachs clench in a tense knot.

The offer, at least to anyone looking from the outside, seemed completely harmless. An invitation to Thanksgiving dinner.

That's exactly how any outsider would see the situation, but Y/n and Garret knew their father perfectly well and were very aware of the suffocating feeling of returning home after seeing him, needing entire days just to emotionally recover from all the tension.

During the following days, they tried to think of every possible excuse.

Non-existent commitments. Last-minute invented trips. Urgent work. A rare disease that didn't even exist in medicine. Anything that would justify an acceptable absence. But in the end, reality remained exactly the same.

Logan was on the kitchen floor of the house he shared with Garret and the boys. Y/n entered the room without knocking, her hands deep in her trouser pockets, her shoulders visibly tense, and her face bearing an expression that made it clear something was very wrong.

She closed the door behind her and walked slowly through the house, noticing that no one was there except Logan. Hearing some noises coming from the kitchen, Y/n headed in that direction.

Logan was completely focused on the task, humming softly some random song they had heard earlier in the car. She approached the counter silently and rested her forearms on the cold marble, observing his every move. And even without seeing her directly, Logan sensed her presence almost immediately, and a smile appeared on his lips.

"Hey, honey! Are you going to keep staring at me, or can I get a little kiss?"

Y/n let out a weak giggle.

"Hi, darling." The reply came with an awkward smile, and that was enough for Logan to realize that something was amiss.

"I know you probably already have plans for the holidays. And I know you always spend Thanksgiving with Jules. And I know Garrett will be there with me. And I know I'm a perfectly functioning adult who should be able to survive a dinner party without panicking, but..." The words continued to flow without pause. "And I also know it's not fair to ask you to spend hours sitting at that table listening to my dad talk about himself and hockey and—"

"Are you okay, love?"

Y/n looked away, her fingers beginning to pick at bits of nail polish, as if she needed to keep her hands occupied to stop all her emotions from escaping at once.

"This isn't good at all..." Her voice faltered, and Y/n looked up at him, clearly trying to hold back tears.

Logan's expression changed instantly; he quickly wiped his hands on his pants and hurried closer.

"Hey, hey, I'm here..." His hands landed carefully on her shoulders.

Y/n tilted her head until it rested against him, finally finding a safe place where she could relax.

"Do you want to tell me? But only if you feel comfortable."

"My father called." That simple sentence was enough for Logan to understand part of the problem.

"He invited Garrett and me to Thanksgiving dinner so he could introduce his fiancée. And I don't want to go."

"I know..." Logan smiled gently, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"I can't remember a single time he invited us to something and it didn't end up being awful." Her eyes filled with tears. "Garret and I left there feeling terrible and then spent days pretending nothing happened, because it's easier than admitting how much it hurts."

"Love..."

"I know it sounds dramatic. I... I'm just tired."

Logan nodded slowly, still smiling gently at her. "I know."

Y/n stared at her own hands for a few seconds before biting her lip. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything, my love!"

"You're not bothering me."

"No."

Y/n continued.

"And I know you have absolutely no obligation to deal with my family because it's enough that I have to deal with—"

"Hey! Breathe, my dear!" Logan laughed and Y/n blinked a few times.

She exhaled slowly. "Sorry... I'm almost freaking out."

"I perceived."

Y/n let her head fall forward. "This is awful."

"So let's tackle one thing at a time. First, you sit down and take a deep breath." Logan pulled up a stool.

Y/n sat near the counter, her body still stiff. Logan filled a glass with ice water and handed it to her, pulling up a nearby stool and sitting down beside her.

"Would you... go with me to my father's problematic dinner party?"

"Yes!" John said quickly.

Y/n blinked. "Yes?"

"Yeah."

"You didn't even think."

"Because I didn't need to think."

She stared at her boyfriend, as if she were expecting a more complicated answer.

"Logan..."

"Honey, did you really think I'd let you face this alone?"

"But what about Jules?"

"I talk to her and she's very understanding. She'll understand."

Y/n shook her head. "I don't want to bother you."

Garret watched the two for a few more seconds, and then his shoulders finally relaxed from all the accumulated tension. The weight he had carried since the call seemed to lessen a little. He nodded in silent thanks, smiled slightly, and turned to go to his room.

"He is sure?"

"Absolutely." John smiled and extended his little finger for her to intertwine. Y/n laughed and intertwined their fingers.

"Thanks."

"No need to thank me, I'll do anything, you know."

Logan opened his arms without saying anything, and she didn't hesitate. She put her glass down on the table and immediately leaned into his warm embrace, feeling his arms wrap around her waist as she buried her face in his neck and closed her eyes.

It was at that exact moment that the sound of the front door opening echoed.

Garret arrived and as soon as he appeared in the kitchen doorway, he found his sister completely hidden in Logan's protective arms. The scene was more than enough for him to understand everything that was happening there.

Then he made an expressive face, as if to say to Logan something like: Our father called.

And Logan clearly understood the message, because he replied with a calm smile that said exactly what was happening and assured her that everything would be alright.

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

Logan knew exactly how fragile and anxious his girlfriend became on the day she had to go to her father's house, so the day before, he made sure to play the role of the dream boyfriend: he gathered his last two savings and bought flowers, chocolates, and their favorite snack from the local Italian restaurant. With everything planned, he went to her apartment on campus to pick her up, ensuring she would spend that night at his place.

The day of the dinner had finally arrived.

Y/n felt her eyes burning with tears. "Or I don't know, I wish my mother were here because...because everything is too much sometimes."

At the moment, Logan was waiting for Y/n outside the house, leaning against the side of the truck with his hands in his pants pockets. As soon as he saw his girlfriend appear in the front doorway carefully holding the freshly baked pie they had made together, he smiled and approached, extending a hand to help her down the steps.

"Where's Garrett?" Y/n asked, looking around.

"He said he would stop by Hannah's apartment before leaving."

Y/n frowned. "I thought he was going with us."

Logan shook his head and then opened the passenger side door.

"He told me he was going alone. We know what Garrett is like, don't we?"

Y/n settled into the seat, fastening her seatbelt and holding the pie firmly on her lap, while Logan got into the driver's side and began to enter her father's address into the GPS.

She remained completely silent for a few seconds. He then noticed, out of the corner of his eye, that she seemed very thoughtful.

"Hey. You're thinking so hard I can hear it from here."

Y/n let out a weak giggle. "Sorry."

Logan frowned immediately. "Why are you apologizing, love?"

Y/n looked at her own hands. "Because I'm only now officially introducing you as my boyfriend." Logan blinked, clearly confused. "We've been together for a year and I didn't want it to be under these circumstances, you know?"

"I don't understand, my dear." John raised his eyebrows.

She exhaled slowly.

"It's Phil Graham, you know..." The name was more than enough for Logan to understand exactly where this conversation was going. "The hockey player and all that. People like meeting him, they get excited, they tell their friends... It's just that..." Y/n made a vague gesture with her hand in the air. "I wanted him to be...normal?" She tried to force a sad smile.

"I understand, my dear." John gently stroked her cheek. "And that's okay, because I'm with you for who you are, not for the last name you carry."

Y/n and Garret had already confided in him countless stories from the past about the man, harrowing accounts that made John's stomach churn with pure, silent rage, because he blindly believed every word the twins said.

John immediately pulled her into a tight hug.

"You have me and Garrett. And we're not going anywhere!" He kissed her cheek tenderly, and Y/n smiled through her silent tears. "And what about your father? I know Phil from the games, and about what you're telling me, it's all right, I'm with you... And I'm not even a HUGE fan of his!" He shrugged casually, and Y/n let out a genuine, open laugh, which made Logan smile.

"Silly!" John simply winked charmingly, and Y/n smiled softly.

"Thank you for everything."

His expression softened completely at those words. Then, with all the gentleness in the world, Logan cupped her chin with his fingers and pulled her in for a quick, incredibly delicate and affectionate kiss.

"Ready."

"Ready what?" She smiled slightly, curious.

"You are now officially forbidden from being sad for the next forty minutes."

"That doesn't even make sense." Y/n laughed genuinely.

"Of course it does." He started the car engine and placed his cell phone in the dashboard holder. "Now choose a song. But nothing too sad or dramatic."

Y/n laughed loudly and nudged his ribs with her elbow. "Shut up!"

From the beginning of college, Phil used to attend the most important games, campus sporting events, team dinners, and celebrations related to the hockey team. Logan was an active part of that world. They had already talked on a few casual occasions, because Phil usually showed up in the locker room after games, greeted the players closest to him, briefly praised a specific play, and moved on with his imposing posture.

Sometimes he would even congratulate Logan on his excellent performance on the ice, but almost always the interaction ended in exactly the same predictable way: Phil would find Garrett and immediately begin a series of comments about the tactical errors his son had made in the game.

For that exact reason, Logan never pressured Y/n to rush an official introduction to the family. Because he knew very well how Phil Graham operated outside the spotlight on the ice.

"If you want, we can go back." He brought one of his warm hands to her face, caressing her skin with his thumb and brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

The car ride along the highway went surprisingly smoothly. And Y/n actually managed to completely forget exactly where they were going.

Then a familiar car suddenly appeared in the rearview mirror and, a few seconds later, overtook the pickup truck at a daring speed, soon followed by the shrill sound of a horn. Then another quick honk. Then one more, in a joking tone.

Y/n immediately recognized the shiny black jeep, and before it completely disappeared around the bend in the road ahead, a familiar hand emerged from the driver's window, making a series of exaggerated and completely meaningless gestures in the air.

The scene was so genuinely ridiculous that she immediately started laughing, the kind of laugh that made her shoulders tremble all over.

When they finally arrived at their final destination, Logan maneuvered and parked right behind Garret's car. But he immediately noticed a crucial detail: his brother-in-law's silhouette was still clearly visible inside the jeep. Motionless in the driver's seat. As if gathering every last drop of courage before opening the door.

Beside her, Y/n continued to grip the pie tin with excessive force, pressing her fingers against the edges while her eyes were completely fixed and locked on the main entrance of the house.

And Logan realized that instantly, because he knew each of those expressions of panic in detail.

Y/n chuckled without any humor. "I really wanted to."

"We can do this, the choice is yours."

And then her gaze fell heavily on Garret's parked car ahead. Just as her brother finally opened the jeep door, his jaw visibly clenched and that familiar frown on his forehead.

"But I'm here for him too." She discreetly pointed with her chin in the direction of her twin.

Logan observed Garret's rigid posture for a brief moment, then turned his full attention to her.

"And I'm here for you, never forget that."

Y/n ended up letting a faint smile appear, feeling more secure.

However, when he looked outside again, he found Garret leaning against the side of his own vehicle. Even at that average distance, it was perfectly clear that he had neither the desire nor the energy to cross that garden and enter the house.

And then Y/n's attentive eyes went straight down to his hands; her brother's fingers were repeatedly opening and closing into clenched fists.

Garrett only did that when he was extremely nervous or under an unbearable level of stress.

Then she turned her head quickly and saw that Logan was still there, with one of his strong arms resting behind her seat and his body leaning slightly towards her.

"Do you want to go back home?" The question came gently and without any pressure.

Y/n turned completely around in her upholstered seat to face her boyfriend. "Can I tell you something before we go inside?"

"Of course, my dear." He gently poked the tip of her nose with his finger.

"But... promise me you won't act strangely when you find out?"

"Honey, what happened that was so serious?"

"Promise me first?" she insisted, her eyes fixed on his.

Logan straightened up a little more in the driver's seat, assuming a protective posture. "I promise. You know you can tell me anything."

Y/n took a deep breath, pulling all the air she could into her lungs, and then began to talk about an old childhood memory.

Because that particular story carried a dark and hidden side of Phil Graham that no one in the public or on the hockey team saw, a real side that existed in their daily lives long before the big games started being televised.

And when it was finally over, the car was completely silent.

Logan didn't say anything at all, not immediately. Because he knew there were no right words, so he did the only thing that truly seemed important at that moment; he opened his arms and pulled Y/n close to him.

The gesture was as if to say that everything was alright now, that she didn't need to carry that entire burden alone, that she believed in herself above all else.

Outside, Garret looked up just as he saw the comforting embrace through the glass and knew immediately what was happening inside, because he knew perfectly well that vulnerable look in his sister's eyes.

His jaw visibly clenched for a moment, a wave of tension coursing through his body, and then his eyes fell heavily to the floor.

When they finally got out of the truck, Logan closed the door firmly and gave Garret a subtle, gentle smile. Y/n just watched her brother with a neutral expression, trying to compose herself.

As they walked together towards the steps of the house, Garret decided to do what he did best to break the ice: openly tease the young couple.

"Then..."

Y/n closed her eyes immediately, anticipating what was to come. "No."

"I saw the little kiss."

"Garret!" Y/n let out an audible groan of embarrassment.

"That was disgusting." Garret made a theatrical grimace.

"It was just a peck!" Y/n argued in her defense.

"It was disgusting."

"You're ridiculous."

She laughed, and the three of them calmly climbed the porch stairs, with Garret going ahead and knocking on the wooden door. Logan took advantage of the moment and comfortably put an arm around Y/n's shoulders.

And then, they heard firm footsteps echoing toward the door. The first to appear and open the door was a middle-aged woman with an immensely kind smile on her face. Her eyes curiously scanned the three young people standing on the porch, and her whole face lit up with satisfaction at welcoming them.

"Garret and Y/n! It's so good to finally meet you." She smiled warmly before turning her full attention to Logan. "And you could only be John? Y/n's boyfriend?"

Logan smiled politely, showing friendliness. "It's me. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure is mine." She opened the doorway wider, letting them in. "I was really looking forward to this dinner."

Y/n returned the smile with all the politeness she could muster. "John and I brought a pie."

"Oh, how sweet! They didn't need to worry about that."

Garret discreetly lifted the dessert wrapper he was carrying. "And I was responsible for the other one."

Cindy laughed kindly. "So nobody goes hungry in this house today."

The initial atmosphere seemed surprisingly light. Almost truly welcoming. Almost.

Because it only took a few more heavy footsteps echoing down the main hallway for everything to change drastically, and for Phil to appear imposingly in the living room entrance.

As soon as Logan's eyes met his, his polite smile faded almost automatically. Y/n's words, spoken inside the truck, were still completely fresh in his memory.

The two brothers exchanged a quick glance before walking over to the man. The hugs they shared were short and completely awkward.

"Look who decided to show up. My sons!" Then, his analytical eyes met Logan's. "John Logan! Finally meeting you officially." He extended his firm hand. "We've seen each other so many times in the arena that I was starting to think you were avoiding me as a son-in-law."

Logan accepted the necessary handshake and smiled politely. "No, sir. I think all that was missing was the ideal occasion."

Phil chuckled, lightly patting him on the shoulder. "I hope Garrett didn't teach you his bad habits."

Garret discreetly rolled his eyes at the comment, and Y/n looked away at her brother. Cindy, who remained completely oblivious to all that underlying tension, flashed an even wider and more radiant smile at the group.

"I was really curious to meet you. Phil keeps saying that Y/n is very happy in this relationship."

Y/n felt her heart skip a beat in her chest and slowly turned her head toward her father, completely surprised.

Happy.

He had specifically used that word, and she could barely remember the last time her own father had stopped to ask how she was feeling inside.

"By the way..." Garret discreetly raised the dessert in his hands to change the subject. "Where can we put all this before I drop something on the floor?"

Cindy smiled. "In the kitchen, please. You can leave everything on the main counter."

"Perfect!"

As Garret hurried toward the kitchen, carrying the purchased dessert and the pie his sister had made, Logan remained firmly by Y/n's side. He kept his hands gently resting on her shoulders in a clear form of physical and emotional protection, almost a silent reminder that she wasn't alone.

However, Phil once again focused his full attention on Logan.

"So... how's the season going? I've been following your games. You've been improving a lot on the ice."

"Dad..." Y/n ended up interrupting him on purpose, wanting to get her boyfriend out of that situation. "Do you mind if I show Logan around the house before we sit down in the living room?"

Phil smiled. "Of course, go ahead! After all, this house is yours too."

The sentence sounded strange, empty, and completely out of place in their reality, but she only nodded slightly to avoid confrontation.

"Thanks."

Without saying another word, Y/n gently took Logan's hand and began to guide him up the stairs.

The walls of the long hallway were completely covered with old picture frames and photographs from childhood, records of past birthdays, Christmas mornings, and especially old sporting competitions of the twins.

Logan slowed his pace whenever he saw a different image of his girlfriend, smiling discreetly at all her phases.

Until she stopped completely in front of a specific, incredibly cute photograph hanging near the end of the hallway.

In it, a Y/n girl of approximately six years old appeared holding a large spoon as if it were a shiny trophy, completely covered in white flour from head to toe. Next to her, Garret seemed to be in an even worse and more chaotic state. The two smiled broadly at the camera while their mother laughed in the background behind the children.

Logan began to chuckle softly as he contemplated the details of that pure scene.

Y/n turned her face to him. "What's wrong, love?"

He pointed to the photograph on the wall. "Your brother looks like he fought with a sack of flour... and lost badly."

She stared at the photo and began to laugh as well, the old memory warming her chest for a moment.

"It was all my fault."

"He was?"

"I wanted to make a surprise birthday cake for my mom, but we started fighting in the kitchen, throwing flour at each other, and she ended up discovering the whole surprise ahead of time."

Logan laughed loudly, finding the story adorable, while Y/n stared at the photo with eyes filled with a deep and clear longing.

"Mom wasn't sure whether to laugh at the mess or scold us. But in the end, the three of us made the cake together."

Logan watched intently the subtle change in her facial expression; the slight smile was still there, but now it carried a heavy nostalgia. A great longing indeed.

"You look incredibly like her!" Logan smiled sweetly, gazing deeply into his girlfriend's eyes.

Y/n turned her head quickly toward him, flashing a wide, truly radiant smile. "Do you really think so?"

Logan immediately realized how genuinely happy that realization made her. "In every little detail!"

Y/n smiled shyly, lowering her gaze for a brief moment, her heart warmed.

She continued showing him each room and hallway, which seemed to hold a fond and comforting memory of her and her brother from when their mother still lived there with them.

She pointed out the balcony and fondly remembered the nights she, Garret, and her mother spent lying there watching a meteor shower. She indicated the green area of ​​the garden and recounted the sunny afternoons when the two of them patiently tried to teach the family's old dog to fetch sticks.

She talked nonstop. She smiled slightly. She laughed openly at certain moments of nostalgia. But, deep down, Logan perfectly understood that she wasn't just showing him the physical rooms of the house; Y/n was, in fact, desperately searching for her mother's presence and trace in every corner of that empty place.

The rest of the afternoon dragged on slowly and deliberately, because whenever a conversation seemed to be heading towards any other topic, Phil found a way to steer the conversation back to hockey.

He kept talking about the possibility of Logan pursuing a professional career, questioned tactical strategies, and debated the latest college championships. Meanwhile, he never asked Y/n how her routine was going at college.

He never asked how she was doing away from home. He never asked if she was genuinely happy. Similarly, he also never asked Garrett anything that wasn't strictly related to his performance on the ice.

Logan answered each question with as much politeness as he could muster. But inside, his chest harbored an extremely dangerous mixture of fire and gasoline.

When night finally fell, the dining table was already completely set and decorated in the dining room.

Phil and Cindy sat side by side, and right in front of them were Logan and Y/n. Garret, for his part, preferred to strategically position himself at the end of the table, right next to his twin sister.

"Not to brag... but you're going to love Cindy's mashed potatoes."

Garret chuckled softly at the insistence. "He's been talking about that mashed potato all afternoon."

"Because it's worth the hype," Phil replied, amused, gesturing with his cutlery.

Cindy shook her head, visibly embarrassed by the compliments. "Modesty aside... this mashed potato is delicious. My mother taught me how to make it when I was a teenager."

Y/n smiled at the woman with genuine affection. "I'm sure it's wonderful."

"And..." Phil continued, staring intently at his children. "I also asked Cindy to make macaroni and cheese—"

Y/n's eyes immediately met Garret's in a flash of memory.

"With breadcrumbs on top." They said it exactly at the same time, in perfect sync, and the whole table burst into laughter at their identical reaction.

"It was a tradition." Y/n finished in a soft tone, and Cindy smiled contentedly before turning her attention back to Logan.

"And you, Logan? Do you have any Thanksgiving traditions in the kitchen?"

The brothers' smiles vanished almost instantly. Logan blinked a few times in quick succession, trying to find a happy answer in his mind that he simply didn't have to give.

Noticing her boyfriend's discomfort, Y/n discreetly reached for Logan's hand under the table and gently wrapped her fingers around his.

Logan fixed his gaze on her and simply smiled slightly to show that everything was alright.

"Yeah... sure!" He let out a shy chuckle to fill the silence. "We had a kind of silly tradition with marshmallows."

Cindy immediately flashed a warm smile. "Oh, that sounds lovely!"

"It was fun..." Logan smiled weakly, but the glimmer of joy quickly faded from his features, and Y/n seized the perfect moment to subtly change the subject.

"Thank you so much for dinner." She returned Cindy's polite smile. "And thank you for making the pasta."

"Of course, darling." Cindy smiled with genuine sweetness.

Phil suggested that everyone say a brief prayer of thanks before beginning to eat the served dishes. When the short prayer ended, Cindy smiled at everyone around her and gently gestured for the main courses to be served.

"So... what are your plans after you finish university?" Phil looked directly at Logan, and Y/n sighed deeply, realizing the sports interrogation was about to begin again.

"I'm still calmly evaluating some possibilities."

"Do you plan to enter this year's draft?"

"If a good opportunity arises, yes."

Phil nodded slowly, considering the answer. "And which league do you think best suits your playing style?"

"I think I still have a lot to develop physically before I can really think about that."

Garret watched the whole scene in absolute silence, and Y/n did exactly the same beside her boyfriend. Phil seemed solely interested in getting to know the promising athlete on the team and not the sweet, caring, and protective man Y/n was completely in love with.

Y/n placed some macaroni and cheese on her own plate and smiled discreetly at Cindy in thanks. "Could you pass me the bottle of wine, please?"

"Of course, darling!" Cindy reached for the bottle on the table without hesitation.

As she stretched her arm across the table, the sleeve of Cindy's sweater rode up a few inches, just enough to reveal a large, distinct purplish mark spread across her pale skin. For an overwhelming instant, time seemed to slow down completely for Y/n.

The polite smile instantly vanished from her face, and the strength in her fingers gradually weakened as she held the bottle of wine that was handed to her. Around the dinner table, Cindy laughed at some silly remark Phil made, completely distracted by the moment. Garret served himself some more food on his plate, and Logan calmly answered a question about his university routine.

For a full second, Y/n stopped seeing the dining room, and everything around her was abruptly replaced by old, suffocating memories.

It ranged from memories of dark days when the whole house was immersed in heated arguments, to terrible days when Garret would physically step in front of her to protect her when their father came home completely frustrated and stressed with life.

And as if her own mind wanted to betray her even more in that tense environment, her troubled thoughts returned forcefully to a few hours earlier, to the exact moment when she had confided in Logan a crucial and painful part of her childhood.

"He arrived early that day..." Y/n's voice was almost a whisper. "I got a B on an important test, and I always got A+s in that specific subject... But Mom had died recently, and I was still completely devastated inside..." Her fingers clenched tightly, and Logan remained in absolute silence, running his hand down her arm in a comforting caress. "In my childish mind... I was going to show him the test and just say that I would improve my grade next time. But as soon as he saw it, he simply didn't listen to me anymore... Garret was at practice. And... that day... there was absolutely no one to step in front of me to defend me from him..."

Her voice completely trailed off for a second, and her teary eyes went toward her brother outside the vehicle. Logan, heartbroken, reached out and wiped a lone tear from her face.

"My father beat me so badly that I had to miss three days of school in a row so that no one would see my bruises... And when Garret found out what had happened... he was infinitely angrier with himself than with our father." Y/n quickly wiped her face with her sleeve. "After that, he was always the one who bandaged me. Because he had more opportunities when Garret wasn't home and my father simply had no one else to take out all his pent-up anger on..."

Logan stood completely still and stunned by the revelation. While an overwhelming fury gripped his chest and he felt the urge to take justice into his own hands, Logan also wanted only to embrace her with all his might and never let her go from that safe haven.

Y/n's dazed mind abruptly returned to the reality of the dining room, and then the fingers of her hand completely lost their strength.

The wine bottle slipped from her fingers and the glass hit her with a sharp, deafening crash, bringing all conversation to an immediate halt. Y/n pushed her chair back with such haste and desperation that she almost fell to the side.

Cindy's friendly smile vanished completely from her lips, and Phil frowned in clear irritation at the mess. Garret turned his face toward his sister so quickly he almost dropped his plate of food, and Logan stood up from his chair without a second thought.

"Hey, love... Are you hurt?" Logan asked, his voice filled with genuine concern, gently holding her arm and examining every inch of it. "Are there any shards of glass in you?"

But Y/n couldn't even hear him, her eyes remaining completely fixed on that purple mark hidden under the sleeve of Cindy's sweater.

Garret was already in a state of complete tension, because he was looking in the exact same direction as his twin sister, who was staring in panic. His fingers gripped the edge of the table so tightly that his knuckles turned completely white.

Phil, on the other hand, let out a small, nasal laugh, trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere that had settled in.

"Relax, guys." He gave a characteristic wry smile, dismissing the situation. "In hockey, we learn that a fall like that doesn't even count as a real accident. It's just a common welcome card for those who interact with players daily."

Cindy chuckled, Logan remained completely serious, and Garret closed his eyes for a full second, controlling the immense anger rising in his chest.

But Y/n was already completely consumed by an uncontrollable wave of anger and indignation.

"Do you think that's funny?" The entire room fell into a deathly, piercing silence.

Phil raised an eyebrow, surprised by his daughter's audacious tone. "What?"

"You and your ridiculous hockey jokes."

"Y/n, daughter, what is this?"

"NO!" She raised one hand firmly before he could continue with his false speech.

Phil took a deep breath, trying to maintain his composure, and laughed again disdainfully. "You're making an unnecessary fuss over a simple broken bottle of wine. We have plenty more in the cellar, I can ask Cindy to go get another one—"

"Is that really what you think happened here?" Y/n snapped her fingers in a clear sign of pure nervousness, and Logan quickly placed one of his hands on her back. "You think everything in life is that simple, don't you?"

"Then explain your point to me," Phil said, his expression hardening and his voice becoming a little more serious because of his daughter's confrontational tone.

"You spend your whole life pretending to the rest of the world that you're the perfect, exemplary father. In front of everyone, you're extremely friendly, polite, you make silly jokes, you ask about other people's future careers... But a real father asks how his children are feeling inside, asks real questions about his daughter's boyfriend, and doesn't just focus on his sports career. A real father is present and cares about his children's lives!"

"What you're saying isn't true. I always—"

Y/n let out a sharp, completely humorless laugh. "Do you know exactly what semester of college Garrett and I are in right now? Or do you happen to know what major I'm studying with so much effort?"

"You're exaggerating and going too far," Phil said in a sharp tone, trying to regain authority.

"You never wanted to know anything about my life. And when you found out about something that was out of your control and you didn't like it, you simply took it all out on us with slaps and bruises!" Y/n spelled out each syllable with a cutting clarity, leaving Cindy with wide eyes in shock and Phil visibly furious. "You've always been a cowardly and aggressive man."

Y/n added firmly, unleashing all the pain she had held for years, and that was the absolute last straw that made Phil truly furious.

In one swift, brusque movement, Phil's chair scraped against the dining room floor with a thud, falling backward and pointing a stiff, accusing finger directly at his own daughter.

That reaction was enough to make everyone's heart race in a frantic, frightened beat. And that single movement was all it took for Logan and Garrett to react at exactly the same time.

Logan swiftly stepped in front of Y/n, placing a protective arm directly in front of his girlfriend. At the same time, Garret stopped beside them, leaning slightly forward in a visibly defensive stance.

The two stared at Phil with the same unwavering firmness in their gaze, driven by the same protective instinct and sharing the same ultimate goal: to protect Y/n from anything.

Phil immediately noticed the roadblock, and his eyebrows slowly rose as he saw the two athletes completely blocking his path to his daughter.

Over Logan and Garret's broad shoulders, the man met Y/n's striking eyes again. Her expression was entirely tense, hard, and filled with legitimate anger, but with warm tears still falling discreetly and continuously down her pale face.

"This is over!" Garret says definitively, stepping back from the table and placing both hands firmly on his twin sister's shoulders to pull her away.

"Hey, hey, everything alright!" Cindy says in a desperate voice, hurriedly getting up from the table.

"No, everything is not alright!" Logan says in an extremely serious tone, looking Phil in the eyes one last time with deep contempt.

Logan and Garret quickly led Y/n out of that suffocating dining room. Garret walked ahead of the group, clearing a path down the hallway, while Logan remained right behind his girlfriend, keeping both hands gently resting on her shoulders in constant physical contact.

As they crossed the large living room, Logan paused only to pick up the two coats they had left scattered on the sofa earlier, immediately returning to her side as soon as they reached the front door.

Garret had already opened the door and made enough space for the two of them to get outside, but as soon as he heard Phil's heavy footsteps coming in the same direction down the hallway, Garret blocked the door with his own body.

"Take her." Garret glanced quickly over his shoulder at Logan, who was already on the outside balcony.

"Are you going to be okay?" Logan's question came out low and full of complicity.

"Yes, I will." Garret glanced briefly at his sister. "Take care of her, please..."

"You didn't even need to ask." Logan gave a small, understanding, sad smile. Garret returned the gesture with an almost smile of pure relief.

Garret stood completely still and rigid in the doorway, absolutely preventing Phil from crossing the porch to go after his daughter. And while this human barrier remained at the entrance, Logan guided Y/n to the truck, waited patiently until she got in, and only then went around and got in on the driver's side.

The metal keys turned rapidly, but before he could actually engage the gear, he felt Y/n's cold, trembling hand land firmly on his.

"Wait..." Y/n pleaded, her voice choked with emotion. "We're not leaving without Garret." Her eyes, which had previously overflowed with anger, were now completely filled with the genuine despair of a sister. "I... I'm afraid of what might happen if he's left alone with our father."

The genuine concern in her voice tightened painfully in Logan's chest.

"Of course, we'll wait for him, my dear!" Logan squeezed her hand back to reassure her and gently stroked Y/n's cheek. "I promise!"

"Even if it takes a long time?"

"Even if it takes a long time!"

She breathed a little easier. "Thank you."

Logan left the truck's engine running in neutral, opened the driver's side door again, and remained standing, leaning firmly against the side. He kept his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes fully alert and fixed on every movement on the porch of the house, positioning himself ready to physically intervene the moment it was necessary.

Besides, if he wanted to break some bones, all he had to do was throw John Logan up in the air.

Garret continued speaking firmly to Phil, who remained detained on the other side of the entrance gate. And it was precisely at this moment of high tension that the older man realized he was also being watched; as soon as Phil looked up, he found Y/n sitting safely inside the truck, and soon after, his piercing gaze met Logan's.

The young player maintained an extremely cold facial expression, making no effort whatsoever to hide the profound contempt he felt.

At that exact moment, Phil Graham finally understood that Logan knew every detail of the twins' past and that he knew perfectly well the monster he had been within the privacy of that house. And, by the firm and menacing way the young athlete stared back at him from the sidewalk, it was also implicitly clear that Logan would never allow any kind of violence to happen to Y/n again.

"Listen carefully to what I'm about to tell you." Garret took a deep breath, controlling his own voice to avoid shouting. "Never show up in another one of my games."

Phil immediately opened his mouth to respond and retort to the insult, but Garret raised his open hand sharply in the air.

"I'm not finished speaking yet." He then pointed clearly with his index finger toward the parked truck where Y/n was waiting. "And never again come looking for her with cheap apologies! Because she spent her entire childhood and adolescence waiting for you to act like a real father. But now she doesn't need you for absolutely anything. She has me and Logan! So do us all this huge favor. Leave us alone once and for all!" Without waiting for any kind of response, he turned his back and went down the steps.

As soon as Garret got into the jeep, Logan finally moved away from the side of the truck and returned to the driver's seat.

The rain started pouring down on the road, and the only audible sound inside the car was the rhythmic, continuous movement of the windshield wipers.

Nobody said anything at all, but Logan kept one hand firmly on the steering wheel while, from time to time, his worried eyes drifted to Y/n sitting next to him, and then his eyes automatically searched the rearview mirror.

Garrett's Jeep remained close behind them, keeping a safe distance in the storm.

It was then that a low, broken sob broke the silence, and Logan discreetly turned his face toward her.

Tears streamed down Y/n's face again, but this time it wasn't from anger; it was from sheer exhaustion and a deep, accumulated sadness. When she brought both hands to her face, the crushing weight of that night finally collapsed upon her. Her shoulders began to tremble uncontrollably, and her crying turned into painful sobs that seemed to trap the air in her chest.

Without taking his eyes off the road completely, Logan reached for her trembling hand and held it firmly, gently stroking her skin with his thumb to offer as much support as possible.

But then, suddenly, the sound of crying stopped completely.

The silence was so sudden and abrupt that it made Logan frown immediately, and as soon as he turned his face to the side, his heart plummeted in his chest.

Y/n was completely still on the bench, her eyes wide with panic, her hand pressed tightly against her chest as she desperately tried to draw air back into her lungs.

"Honey, breathe!" Logan's voice came out, heavy with a nervous and urgent tone.

She tried to do what he asked, but the tears kept falling while her breathing became increasingly rapid. Logan immediately lowered both windows of the truck, and at that same moment, the cold wind and heavy raindrops flooded the interior of the vehicle.

But the effort wasn't working.

Without thinking twice, Logan turned on his turn signal, slowed down, and pulled his truck over to the side of the road. Right behind him, Garret noticed the emergency maneuver and also turned on his hazard lights, stopping alongside and quickly lowering his window to assess the situation.

And while this was happening, Logan had already removed his own seatbelt and leaned completely towards Y/n in the passenger seat.

Garret hurriedly opened the Jeep door, jumping out into the heavy rain and quickly stopping at the driver's side window of Logan's car.

"What happened?" The concern in his voice was evident as he tried to see his sister.

"Panic attack." Logan replied without taking his eyes off her for a single second. With awkward but careful movements, he pushed Y/n's hair back, brushing away the strands that insisted on sticking to her face. "Do you have any water?"

Garrett immediately turned to his own car and seconds later found a new, full plastic bottle.

"Here!"

Logan quickly opened it, handed her the object, and brought one of his hands directly to Y/n's face. With his thumb, he gently wiped away the tears that were still streaming down her cheeks.

"Just take a little sip," he said softly, modulating his tone of voice to convey calm. "Take a deep breath and then take a little more."

Gradually, Y/n's stiff shoulders began to visibly relax. Her uneven breaths became less rapid, and she slowly closed her eyes, finally allowing the cold, damp wind of the rain to touch her face and the breeze to fill her lungs without encountering the same suffocating difficulty as before.

Once they realized she was actually better and that another immediate panic attack wouldn't occur, they resumed driving until they finally arrived at the boys' house.

Logan had a comforting, firm hand on her back or shoulders the whole time, carefully guiding her as he led her to the bedroom and picked out some of his own clothes for her to wear after her shower. He only truly left her side when Y/n closed the bathroom door and turned on the shower.

Logan slowly descended the stairs of the house, running both hands over his face. As soon as he reached the kitchen to get something for Y/n to eat, he saw Garret leaning against the cabinets.

His clothes were still considerably damp from the earlier rain, and his wet hair dripped discreetly onto his expressive forehead. On the marble countertop, a bowl contained some untouched fruit.

"I... wanted to apologize to you."

Logan frowned slightly. "Apologies?"

"Because of everything you witnessed today. You shouldn't have been exposed to this dark side in this way."

Logan let out a quiet sigh, moving closer. "Garret..."

Y/n's brother looked away, his gaze fixed on the floor for a moment.

"She shouldn't have had to go through all that again. I should have protected her better."

"You protected." Logan leaned against the counter.

Garret shook his head immediately, refusing the consolation.

"Not enough. Because I keep wondering if that day... you know, she told you, right?"

Garret looked at Logan, and his sister's boyfriend immediately understood what he was talking about and nodded silently. "I keep thinking I should have skipped practice... Or left her at Grandma's house... Or..." The sentence died before he could finish the painful thought.

"Garret." Logan waited patiently until he raised his head again. "You were just a kid trying to protect another kid. It was never your fault."

"But I still feel like it."

Logan nodded slowly, understanding his pain. "I know."

They remained silent for several long seconds, and then Logan let a small, knowing smile appear on his lips to ease the tension.

"You know what? If that dinner had been at my family's house..." He let out an awkward chuckle. "...it probably wouldn't have been exactly a perfect margarine commercial."

Garret chuckled briefly through his nose, understanding the irony. "Yeah... None of our families won the 'Most Functional of the Year' award."

The two chuckled softly together, not because the family situation was genuinely funny, but because, for a few brief seconds of complicity, they had finally managed to breathe amidst the storm.

Garret lowered his head again, watching the water slowly trickle down the hem of his jacket onto the kitchen floor. Meanwhile, Logan walked to the refrigerator, grabbing a bottle of fresh water, and before he could actually look for something for his girlfriend to eat, Garret called him softly.

"Logan. Here." He pushed the glass bowl with the cut fruit. "I set it aside for her."

Logan smiled back, grateful for his brother-in-law's gesture. "Thank you."

Carefully picking up the fruit bowl in one hand and balancing the water bottle in the other, Logan left the kitchen. But as soon as he set foot on the first step of the stairs, he turned back towards Garret.

"Can I ask you something?"

Garret frowned slightly, curious. "Hm... maybe."

"Could you give me the recipe for that macaroni and cheese? The one your mom used to make..." Garret blinked a few times, taken aback. "I... wanted to make it for Y/n."

Silence filled the kitchen again, but this time, it was a completely different kind of silence than before.

Garret felt a thick lump instantly rise in his throat, and at that exact moment, he truly understood how immense and genuine Logan's love for his sister was. Because Logan wasn't just thinking about superficially comforting Y/n on that difficult night; he wanted to bring back good memories from her past to gradually replace the old, bad ones that hurt her.

"Of course." Garret replied, his voice visibly choked with emotion. "She'll like it."

"Thank you." Then he climbed the stairs.

When he reached the quiet upstairs hallway, he noticed that the sound of the shower had completely stopped. When he carefully opened the bedroom door so as not to make a sound, he saw that Y/n was already lying on his bed, wearing his baggy sweatshirt and comfortable pants.

She was completely curled up under the covers, as if she had finally found a safe place where her body could truly rest, and she was breathing deeply, having fallen asleep from extreme exhaustion.

Logan closed the bedroom door, placed the water bottle and the bowl of fruit on the study table, and turned off the main light. Then he slowly walked to the side of the bed, carefully crouching beside her; he brushed away a few strands of hair that stubbornly covered her face with his fingertips, and then placed a long, tender kiss on her forehead.

"I'll always be here for you." His voice was just a whisper directed into the silence of the room. "I love you."