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Alette's POV

The inside of my house was tranquil. Sunlight streamed through the windows, making me feel at peace.

It was quiet; Grams and Uncle Syl were out doing whatever it is that they did, which meant that him and I were alone.

That realization made me feel shy and giddy at the same time.

And nervous.

Extremely nervous.

"Do you want something to drink?" I asked him softly. "It's hot, maybe some lemonade? Oh! I baked a strawberry pie this morning, do you want a slice of..." I trailed off at the end, my face heating up.

"Um...let's just go to the kitchen," I stated. We had been standing in the front hallway for way too long. I walked to the kitchen, hoping he'd follow me. He did.

"Here's the um...kitchen," I said awkwardly, gesturing around. Stop it Faye, he'll want to leave.

"Do you want some lemonade?" I asked hopefully, twiddling my thumbs. He stood at the door of the kitchen, his big frame filling up the space.

He stared at me, and after a pause, shook his head slowly.

My face fell. Well dang mister. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, you're not a baby.

I could feel my lips form into a pout. "Do you want some...pie maybe? It's really good; I made it all myse-" he nodded before I could finish my sentence.

Thank goodness.

I happily nodded along with him, and walked to the wooden island where the beautiful pie was sitting on top a pink cake stand with a glass cover. I lifted the cover and grabbed a pink plate, obviously, and a knife.

Trying, and failing, to ignore his presence, I cut off a decent slice of pie and placed it on the plate. I grabbed a spoon and brought the plate to a little table that was in the corner of the kitchen.

"Here you go, I hope you like it," I crossed my fingers behind my back, hoping he would like it.

He walked over to the table and pulled out a chair. Sitting down, he stared at the lone piece of pie, not making any moves to eat it.

Did he want a different coloured plate? Probably not. Maybe some more pie? He didn't even start eating this piece yet.

What if he didn't want to be watched while he was eating, my subconscious chimed in, and that was probably it.

"Um...I'm going to go change so that I can fix the dress, I'll be upstairs, you can just...wait here," I told him, taking a few steps backwards, then I swiftly turned around and speed walked away.

I reached the first step, and peered at him, sitting in the kitchen. I was not spying...just observing.

I held my breath and waited for few seconds until finally, and excruciating slowly, he picked up the spoon, broke off a piece of pie, and brought it up to his mouth.

Heck yeah! I did a little celebratory dance, and then raced up the stairs to my room to grab something to wear.

My room was on the third floor of our little cottage, and it was one of my most favourite places in the world. I truly didn't get out much. Much like the outside of our home, my room was filled with plants and sunlight. I had a wooden bed, desk, and vanity, and a large window seat with a million throw pillows. No amount of throw pillows was ever enough. Same with blankets. I also had a small sofa in the corner of the room, and books strewn across the room, as well as some clothing, and some of my stuffed toys.

The room definitely needed some tidying, but that was a job for another day. For now, I had to change and go back downstairs.

I hurriedly opened my closet and pulled out a pair of loose light wash jeans, and a mint green loose crew neck sweater. I put on some pink band-aids on the small scrapes that were littered on my knees. My hands needed some more work though. I retied my hair because my neat ponytail from this morning had come undone in the heat of the morning sun, and the sweat that I had accumulated whilst being stuck.

I can't believe I let him see me looking this. How absolutely embarrassing, I outwardly groaned.

I flattened my baby hairs, and the rest of frizz on my head but gave up a few seconds later because my hair refused to cooperate. I gathered my dress in my hands to take it downstairs with me. I wonder how he planned on fixing the small hole in the back?

I let out a squeal remembering he was still waiting downstairs, and took a few deep breaths before I walked back down to the kitchen.

Stepping off the staircase, I peeked into the kitchen before actually walking in there. He still sat exactly where he had, before I left. He was unmoving, and I couldn't see the plate to verify whether or not he had finished the pie.

I smoothed down my sweater and my hair once more before walking into the kitchen nonchalantly.

Nice job Alette, play it cool, just look effortless. And then I tripped.

Thankfully I caught myself before I could land on the floor. I peeked up at him, my fingers crossed behind my back hoping that he didn't see it. He did.

"There was um...something on the floor," I said sheepishly, my face red.

I looked at his plate and my face brightened. He finished it!

"Did you like it?" I hoped if he hated it, he wouldn't tell me. I couldn't bear knowing that my pie was bad.

He paused, staring directly into my eyes.

"Delicious." Oh.

I gulped and nodded slowly. I quickly mumbled a thank you and looked away. I couldn't look at him when he his staring was so intense. He was beautiful. So beautiful, that I couldn't comprehend how a person could look this way.

I worked hard everyday to focus on things that blocked out my self-doubt. There were so many negative thoughts in my head and I tried to work hard to ensure that all I put out into the world was positivity. Real life suffering in silence. But when he looked like that, and was sitting in front of me, I didn't even want to put on an act. All my insecurities came marching out, and my heart instantly fell heavy.

Almost as if he noticed a shift in my mood, he turned his body around in the chair to face me.

"You don't have to stay, I'm sorry I took so much time out of your da-"

"Stop."

I looked at him as he sat on the chair, managing to look like the epitome of nonchalant and powerful at the same time.

"I really am sorry, please don't feel obligated to stay, thank you for all your help," I gave him a smile. It made me feel nauseous how inauthentic the smile was. I couldn't do anything right.

Wasn't it funny how you could feel bad for feeling upset and at the same time, feel upset for faking happiness to cover up those feelings of upset?

It seemed as though our minds seldom allowed us to catch a break.

He stood up and walked over to me, his hands reaching out toward mine. Very slowly, he pried Mama's dress from my hands and placed it onto the kitchen counter.

"I'm staying." His voice was strict, no room for argument in his tone.

I nodded dumbfounded, as his eyes drifted down to my hands.

"Let me clean them." He looked down at my hands, his eyes dark and jaw clenched.

"Oh its okay! I can just um do them aft-" a look from him stopped me in my tracks.

"Are you sure?" I mumbled.

"I'm sure."

I nodded again hesitantly and looked for the first aid kit that was in the cupboard. He grabbed it from me and gestured for me to sit on the chair. I sat down in one of the chairs, but not before pulling out the one next to it so he could sit down. He had other plans however; he placed the kit on the table and knelt down in front of me. Oh my.

I probably looked like a lovesick fool with my eyes wide and mouth agape, staring at him in awe. He paid me no mind, just grabbed my hands and an alcohol wipe and began to clean my cuts.

The yelp of pain that I was so desperately trying to hold in escaped. His head whipped up to look at me.

"You're okay, I'm almost done," he said, reassuringly.

"Please hurry," I scrunched my eyes shut.

After a few minutes, he had finished wrapping one hand in gauze, while the other had two pink band-aids on them.

"All done?" I asked him

"All done."

"Um thank you for doing that," I said to him slowly.

He just stared at me. I wished he would stop doing that, it was making me nervous. He walked over to the counter and grabbed my dress.

"I need something to fix this," he said.

"Oh! Like a something to sew it? Grams tried to teach me how to sew but I could never get the hang of it. There was this one time where I...never mind" I stropped talking when I realized I had begun rambling.

There was a twinkle in his eyes and his mouth twitched.

"I'm just going to go get you the sewing kit," I mumbled, feeling my cheeks heat, and I scurried out of the kitchen to grab it.

When I returned, he had laid the dress on the table, and was scrutinizing the rip. I handed him the sewing kit, and he grabbed the needle, some thread, and began expertly fixing the dress.

The juxtaposition of his dark clothes and towering build and his gentle actions was unbelievable to witness.

"You must have a lot of experience with that," I whispered to not distract him.

He looked at me, pausing his actions and raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"Oh...I mean with needles and stuff you know, because you're a tattoo artist. I mean I think you are one because, Tai said you were his boss at the tattoo shop and you were holding a tattoo gun. Maybe you're not a tattoo artist, I don't know I just assum-"

"I am." Oh, okay.

The next few minutes were spent with him working hard. I just watched. Not creepily or anything.

"Finished."

He handed the dress to me and I held it up to myself. It was as good as new!

"Thank you, thank you, thank you! You fixed it," my eyes teared up holding my Mama's dress and I resisted the urge to hug him. I couldn't.

I placed the dress on the table and wrapped my arms tightly around his waist. I let go quickly because I didn't ask him if he wanted a hug, and I shouldn't have done so without his consent. Twice.

I looked down at my feet to avoid seeing him, when I felt him take a step towards me.

He inhaled audibly.

"Don't stop."

Woah.

I stepped towards him, looking into his eyes, as he bent down a little. My heart felt as if it was going to burst, and my stomach felt like the butterflies in there were throwing a rave.

Once his neck was closer to me, I reached up and wrapped my arms around it. This time, he hugged me back.

His hard arms wrapped around my squishy waist, and I tucked my face into the curve of his neck and shoulder.

I couldn't believe that I was doing this.

We stayed in the hug and it felt so wonderful. My racing mind slowed down, and my whole body basked in the safe feelings that his arms brought.

I reluctantly let go because I wasn't sure if he would appreciate me hugging him for this long, and he slowly unwrapped his arms from around me.

He opened his mouth to speak when the sound of someone unlocking the front door interrupted him.

The heavy footsteps walked into the kitchen, and Uncle Syl's face appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. He smiled brightly when he saw me, but his face turned hard when he saw Aresius.

"Adler?"

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unedited