It was horrifying, that was all. You weren’t even thinking about what might happen to you at first, too concerned with the fact that there were little kids out here getting pummeled by grown men. The cops didn’t seem to care that the guy at the other end of their club was ten or twelve at most; all they saw was a striker, so they swung. Davey must have had a heart attack thinking about Les in the thick of all that, you know you did for him.

In complete honesty, you thought someone was going to die. It could have been you, when you turned around from pulling a smaller newsie to his feet to see one of the thugs bearing down on you, or when you tried to run at the end but the Delancey brothers got in your way. Crutchie is gone, Jack is who knows where, and you have no earthly idea what to do next. How do you recover from this? A quiet voice in the back of your head whispers that you don’t.

Your footsteps are slow as you walk through the newsie lodging house. Everyone’s ended up here for the night, hoping that sleep will actually bring rest and not nightmares depicting what happened today. A few boys nod at you when you slip through the door, but most are in a world of their own, too distracted by cuts and bruises to strike up cheerful conversation.

You head up the twisting metal stairs to a higher floor, keen on getting to your bunk and trying to forget all this in blissful unconsciousness for at least a couple of hours. You’re distracted on the way there, though, by a faint sound coming from a closed door. It’s quiet, barely noticeable, but then it comes again. A small sniffle, a brief sound like a fabric rubbing against skin.

Your hand is on the doorknob before you can convince yourself to stop. This kid, whoever he is, might just want to be alone, but sometimes it’s nice to sit by somebody as well. You’ve had your share of terrible days when the only thing that made you feel better was a friend. The same could go for this guy.

You crack open the door cautiously, and your heart twists at the sight of the boy sitting inside. His back to his bunk, Albert DaSilva looks lonelier than you’ve ever seen him before, and it cuts just as deep as a blade. He startled when he sees your face peeking into the room, then sighs miserably.

“Sorry, if you’s wanting to be alone you’ll have to find another place.”

You shake your head, still hesitating on the threshold. “And what if I don’t want to be alone.”

Albert doesn’t pause, just holds out one weary arm to you from where he sits almost curled in on himself from the floor. “Then I wouldn’t mind the company.”

This is all the invitation you need. You slip inside, carefully closing the door behind you, and cross the room to Albert’s side. He pulls you close to him, one arm curled around your side. Now that you’re sitting so close to him, you realize that he’s crying, the faint tracks of tears shining lowly in the moonlight filtering in from a dusty window.

“Oh, Al, what’s wrong?”

Albert gestures uselessly at the room around you. “What else could it be? We just watched our friends get beaten within an inch of their lives, and it was our fault. I tried to convince everybody to do it, that’s on me.”

You shake your head quickly. “We all wanted to do this. None of us blame you, Albert, just like we don’t blame Davey or Jack or anyone who wanted to strike. If anyone, hate Pulitzer for this, but not yourself.”

Albert makes a disgruntled sound. “Oh, I do hate him, but it’s not that easy. It was our ideas, and our guys getting stomped into the ground.”

His shoulders slump. “Did you see Romeo? He got hit so hard it took him a full minute to get back up. I thought he was going to die. I thought you were going to die.”

A fresh tear courses down his cheek, and out of some impulse you don’t think you could name if you tried, you pull him close to you. Albert leans into you easily, his head falling into the crook of your neck like it was always meant to be there. His hands reach for yours, curling around your waist. Some part of you wants to thrill with delight at how close you are, but you’re too focused on making Al feel better to think about the consequences of letting yourself need him this much.

“Romeo is here, though, he’s alright. I saw him just a couple minutes ago, and although he’s a bit shaken up, he’s out and walking.”

Albert opens his mouth to argue this, but you hold up a warning finger and he falls silent again. “Romeo took a bad hit, yes. Just about everybody did. We’se still here, though, and that’s what matters. Maybe we don’t strike again immediately, or maybe we do. We’re going to be alright.”

Albert looks up at you, normally bright eyes dull with the weight of just what happened. “How do you know that?”

In the window outside, a sharp burst of wind sends a few clouds skittering away from the moon. You can see Albert piercingly well in this sudden light, the smattering of freckles across his skin, the reddish curls that are on full display around the curve of his face now that his newsie cap has been tossed dejectedly to the side.

It occurs to you that he is beautiful, this boy in your arms. You’ve known it for a while, the same way you can look up at a sky of purest blue and know it to be pretty, but now that you’re so close to him, it hits you full force. You’ve been pretending that you have a solid grasp on how you feel, but you don’t, not now and maybe not ever. How could you, anyway, with him looking at you like you’re the only source of truth in a world that’s quickly descending into nothingness?

Albert is still waiting for an answer, though, so you must come up with one. If he trusts you enough to let you see him weak and losing, then you have to make him feel like he’s worth something again. You already think so, but he has to as well.

You tilt your head to the side, considering his question. “I know you, and I know our newsies. I know we’re not the type to let one bad twist of fate stomp us down completely. I don’t know what we’re going to do after this, but I know we’re not going to be alone.”

Albert nods slowly. “No. I know I’m not alone.”

He glances at you, and his gaze is so clear and bright that it stuns you. “I have you.”

You have to take a moment to catch your breath. Perhaps you’ve been liking Albert DaSilva for a little longer and a little more than you should, and perhaps being able to stay here, so close to him, isn’t the best for keeping your mind on track. You can all feel every twitch of his fingers against your waistline, and are very much aware of the fact that you’ve stayed pressed against him for much longer than this city would consider proper. Regardless, you don’t think that you could move if you tried.

“And I have you. None of us are getting through this easily, after all. It’s hard on all of us.”

Albert shrugs, although he seems to be doing better. His movements come easier, his smile not as forced. “Doesn’t seem to be killing you all that much. I figured I’d have to be comforting you, not the other way around.”

There’s a thin veneer of self-loathing draped over his words, and you reach out to squeeze his hands instinctively, anything to stop his thoughts of himself from having quite so many barbed edges.

“Hey, hey. You’se been watching my back since the day I got here, I figure it’s way past time for me to return the favor. Don’t you remember all those times you had to save me from the Delanceys?”

Albert groans, but he’s starting to laugh again. “You were impossible. I figured you would have some sort of common sense, but you kept charging headlong into trouble.”

You poke him in the ribs. “Rude. Also, it’s not like any of you are any better. I feel like it was my right to say what I wanted.”

Albert snaps his eyes shut dramatically, the perfect picture of a soul torn to shreds by the weight of his own responsibility. “You once saw both of them cornering you in an alley, and decided to start talking about how they were the ugliest sons of guns you’d ever seen.”

“They were!” You cry, but Albert just laughs.

“Yeah, but who had to pull you out of there when they decided you’d look just as bad as them with a black eye and a couple of broken bones? Me, and I didn’t even do anything.”

You smile at the memory. “Yes, you were terribly brave. I figure most of the other guys would have let me take a few punches, though, just so I’d figure out when to keep my mouth shut.”

Albert waves a hand loosely to dismiss this claim. “Ah, I could never let you get hurt. Even if you kind of deserved it, which you did. I like you too much for that.”

He freezes slightly as he says it, and you realize that you may not be the only one affected by the proximity of hands and waists and hearts. Albert is starting to tense up as if he’s going to deny this, and, even worse, maybe pull away, so you speak quickly before any damage is done.

“I like you too, you know.”

Albert blinks slowly. “You what?”

You shrug, careful to keep your eyes trained on a distant speck of light visible through the window across from you. Somehow, meeting Albert’s gaze right now, while you spill this too-important truth, would be too much for you.

“I like you too. Figure one of us should say it, at any rate.”

He’s silent again, and you’re just starting to think that you’ve really misread this whole situation and it’s time to get yourself out when he kisses you. Now it’s your turn to be stunned into silence, a fact that evidently makes Albert a little too proud of himself judging by the fact that you can feel him smiling against your lips.

“What, you thought that you could be the only one to have surprise confessions? That would be boring.” He says, breaking away.

You can’t help but laugh. “It would be, wouldn’t it?”

From there on, you’re perfectly fine with kissing him again, trying to forget the rest of the world in the hazy night light flowing through this room. It is just you and Albert, nothing more and nothing less. You wouldn’t want anything else.

“This year’ll be fun though, because now we’re dating and so it’s different.” While it was worded incredibly ridiculous, Albert did have a point.

“Fine, I’ll go, but I’m just gonna drink a lot.” You said, causing Albert to smile and lean in to kiss you. You closed the gap, and you suddenly realized you and Albert had become every cliche couple ever.

You had met Albert in sophomore year, during Spanish class. He sat in front of you, and you guys started talking immediately. He had this way about him, that made you instantly attracted to him. And it wasn’t until the end of junior year when Albert finally said something. By that time, you and Albert were talking pretty much every day, and you knew you were definitely in love with him. It was a kind of love where you wanted to be with him everyday, and you wanted to know even the weirdest things about him.

The day he asked you out was one of the happiest days of your life. It was after school, and Albert was driving you home, and he just let it slip.

“So, do you maybe wanna go on a date?” He asked you, causing you to choke on your water.

“With you?” You asked. Obviously you, Y/N, you idiot.

“Nevermind, forget it, it was stupid, just forget I said-”

“No! I want to date you!” You exclaimed, smiling once the feeling sunk in that you were gonna date your long time crush.

And now it was almost 6 months and you still felt the same way. Except there was this one tiny thing that made you weary. You’ve told Albert you loved him, multiple times, and he hasn’t. It wasn’t like you were trying to force him to say it, just after saying it to him a bunch of times, it felt as if he didn’t feel the same way you did.

“Hey I gotta go to class, but we’re going tonight?” He asked, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

“Yeah, sure.” You said, and he kissed you quickly one more time. “I love you.”

“I’ll see you after school.” He said, starting to walk away, catching up to another one of his friends. You continued to stand there, watching him walk away, trying not to let your smile falter. He had the perfect opportunity to say it back, but he didn’t. It was fine, everything was gonna be fine.

Albert didn’t know anything about love. He grew up in a house full of boys, his mom died when he was six. His brothers and dad didn’t really show much affection towards each other. He had an idea of love, like he loves lacrosse, he loves carbonated drinks, he loves food. But the love he felt towards you was a complete different kind of love. Every time he saw you, he got butterflies in his stomach, and when he saw you smile, he swore it was the most beautiful thing he’s seen in his life. He didn’t know how to express that, because what he felt, was new, and more than love.

You were laying in Albert’s bed with him after school, just scrolling on your phone. He had an arm wrapped around you and the other was holding his phone. The party didn’t start till seven, so the both of you had some time to kill. You turned around, facing Albert and watching his face. You leaned in to kiss him. He reciprocated, pulling you on top of him.

“Are we doing this?” You asked, pulling away briefly to face Albert.

“Are you okay with it?” He asked, massaging your hips. You nodded and leaned back to kiss him.

“Y/N! You made it!” Elmer exclaimed, opening up the door and dragging you inside.

“Okay, how much have you had to drink already, Elmer?” You asked, smiling a little as Albert found another group to talk to.

“Doesn’t matter, we have booze.” He said, giving you a solo cup full of some liquid. “Also, you aren’t dressed up, it’s a Halloween party!”

“I uh, ran out of time.” You said, taking a sip of the mysterious liquid.

“Yeah, we can tell.” He retorted, pointing to a forming bruise on your neck. You laughed with him and continued to make small talk as more people started showing up.

Two hours into the party, everyone was either super drunk or asleep. Like, Race and Spot were on the couch, making out, and Finch and Buttons were curled up on the reclining chair, asleep. You were in the kitchen with Katherine, drinking more. Katherine was drinking lemonade while you downed your fourth cup.

“He won’t even say ‘I love you’!” You exclaimed, throwing the cup on the floor. “We’ve been dating a long time now, like, a million months, and he won’t even say it!”

“Y/N, it’s okay, he’ll get around to it.” Katherine replied, putting a hand on your shoulder. But you jumped off the counter, and in your drunken state, it seemed like a good idea to confront Albert.

“No, we need to talk, right here, right now.” You said, walking toward him.

“No! Y/N, maybe that’s not the best idea, you’re clearly drunk, and we’re at a party!” Katherine said, but it was too late, you were already tapping Albert on the shoulder. Katherine put a hand over her face, not wanting to see how this will end up.

“Why won’t you tell me you love me?” You snapped at Albert, his smile off his face falling once he saw you. His group went silent, practically the whole room went silent. Even Spot and Race sat up, watching the interaction.

“Y/N, what are-what are you talking about?” He said, putting a hand on your shoulder, but you brushed it off.

“I tell you I love you all the time, even earlier, when we were-”

“Okay, you are very, very intoxicated right now, and you don’t know what you’re saying. Let’s go home.” He said, taking your hand.

“No! I want to know why, why, why don’t you love me?” You said, your mood turning from angry to sad. Tears welled up in your eyes.

“Okay, we’re going home. Goodbye everyone, I’ll see you at school on Monday.” Albert said, gently leading you to his car. You were still crying, but mostly confused as to what was going on.

“Where are we going?” You hiccuped, crawling into the car.

“We’re going to my house, and you’re going to sleep for 12 hours.” Albert responded, putting your seatbelt on for you.

The drive to his house was practically silent, except you were humming a tune and tapping the window. Normally, Albert would be smiling, but he was more worried than anything. He was worried that you didn’t want to be with him anymore, he was worried about how long you’ve felt this way. He wanted to ask you, but you were so drunk he didn’t think he’d get an answer out of you.

Arriving at Albert’s house, Albert cursed that his bedroom was up the stairs because it was going to take even longer getting you into bed. There was an option of having you sleep on the couch, but he didn’t want his dad to be shocked in the morning, so he’d make that struggle for you. You put your arms around his neck and he lifted you into his arms, ready to get a semi-workout. What he wasn’t expecting, however, was one of his older brothers to be home and in the living room, the room where he had to walk through to get to his room.

“Hey Al, where you been all night?” His brother asked. “Is that Y/N?”

“Yeah, uh, if you could not tell dad that-”

“Hey! It’s Albert’s brother!” You exclaimed, giggling and awkwardly waving at him. He waved back at you momentarily, before turning to Albert again.

“How drunk are they?” His brother asked.

“Uh, I don’t know.” He replied. “But we’re going to bed.”

Albert walked upstairs slowly, and letting a breath of relief when he got to his room. He gently laid you down on the bed, and took of your shoes.

“Okay just sleep now, we’ll talk in the morning.” He said, kissing you on the forehead, and he pulled the blankets over you.

You woke up in the morning with a killer headache, but the moment you turned your head, there was a glass of water and two ibuprofen next to it. You sat up, looking for your boyfriend, but he was nowhere to be found. But right after that thought crossed your mind, he walked in.

“Good, you’re up.” He said, taking a seat next to you. “Do you remember anything about last night?”

“Uhm, I remember drinking a lot in the kitchen, I remember wondering where Davey and Jack went halfway through the night, I remember Katherine and I talking, and I remember,” You paused, gasping slightly when you realized what else happened that night. “Oh no, Albert, I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I said that.”

“You do know why you said it, what’s going on?” He asked, putting a hand on your leg.

“I don’t know, it’s just, upsetting that I’ve said it a bunch, and you never respond. I don’t want to be in a relationship that’s not going anywhere.” You responded. “But I do wanna be with you, I just don’t know how serious this is.”

“You make me so incredibly happy, and I want to say it, but you make me so nervous.” He said. “Okay, that sounds bad. But, I mean that when you walk into a room, my heart explodes.”

“Albert, it’s okay, it was a lot to ask-”

“No, because I do love you, and I’m just a wimp who can’t express feelings correctly.” He said. “And I should’ve said it a lot sooner-”

He runs a hand through his coppery hair, looking more stressed than you’ve seen him in a long time. Although he’s the one who sought you out, Albert’s eyes dart around the room as if even he can’t remember why he’s there.

You reach out a concerned hand to gently rest against his arm. “Hey, Albert. Everything okay?”

Albert doesn’t respond immediately, just points wordlessly towards the windows outside. The thin curtains reveal a storm-torn city outside, wind and rain lashing the glass panes. At last, you understand when he flinches at the same time as a particularly loud bout of thunder- Albert’s got a fear of thunderstorms.

You hold your arms out to him silently, and Albert moves over, picking you up and tucking you against his chest so your chin is underneath your head. “I didn’t want to say anything. ‘M sorry to bother you, but I couldn’t be alone and I knew the other boys’d give me trouble.”

You smile at the thought that Albert thought of you first. “It’s no problem to me. Storm or no storm, I still think you’re one of the bravest boys we’se got. You chased the Delanceys off for me just today, didn’t you?”

You can feel Albert laugh, the gentle shake of his chest. “It was nothing. They’re just a bunch of losers.”

You grin in spite of yourself. “Well, I appreciate it anyway.” You can feel Albert’s formerly frantic heartbeat slowing down, the thrum of it echoing in your ears like an orchestra. His arms, bare from the sleeves of his t-shirt, keep you close. You almost wish that the storm would take its time, just so you wouldn’t have to get up from this.

Albert murmurs something against the top of your head. “Thanks for this. For staying with me.”

You smile even though he can’t see it. “Any time, Al. You know that.”

He leans forward so he can see the expression on your face, making sure you aren’t making it up. Satisfied, he presses a quiet kiss to your cheek before straightening back up. “I think I do.”

The storm thunders on, but in the Lodging House, the two of you are content to just stay here, keeping each other close.