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Aresius' POV

"Can I call you Reece?"

She looked up at me with her big brown eyes. They shone with excitement, as she beamed at me.

Reece? She wanted to nickname me that? Absolutely not, no fuc-

"Okay," I swallowed, dragging my eyes away from her face.

Whipped.

She squealed in excitement, like I had given her the greatest gift in the world.

I would say yes to anything she asked, no hesitation.

She continued to hum under her breath and look out the window, or look over at me every few seconds, as if making sure I was still there.

I usually hated being perceived. I hated when people looked my way, but not her. Never her.

I drove as safely as I could, trying not to do anything that would cause her any harm. Physically and mentally. I should have done a better job yesterday. But she insisted it wasn't my fault.

"So..." she trailed off, which made me glance over at her, before focusing my eyes back on the road.

"Where are we going?" she asked. Her voice was always soft and melodic. As if she sang every time she spoke. I could listen to her talk forever.

I gripped the steering wheel tighter, the knuckles of that hand turning white.

"My place," I answered her slow, then, "If that is okay with you."

Damn it. You should have asked her that first.

"Oh fun! That is okay with me...I-I'll tell Grams though s-so she doesn't worry," she said, nodding to herself.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her pull out her phone; she struggled with one hand because she refused to let go of my hand that she grasped tightly in her soft hands.

Not that I minded.

I had gone my whole life, hating being touched, and all of a sudden, I never wanted her to stop touching me.

Yeah you would feel that way, you sappy fool.

She finally got her phone out and let out a little "Aha!" in happiness. Cute.

She pressed a few buttons and held the phone up to her ear. It rang a few times before I heard a faint voice on the other side.

"Hi Grams, it's me! How was your shift?"

She listened, humming in acknowledgment for a few seconds.

"I just wanted to let you know that I'm out with a...friend right now," she glanced over at me.

I heard the voice of her Grandmother over the phone increase in volume and excitement. Alette turned bright red.

"I'm with Reece, Grams," she mumbled quietly, "Aresius, the one who brought me home last night."

She spoke a little more before looking over at me, and whispered, "Grams wants to talk to you, c-can I put it on speakerphone?"

I nodded once.

She fumbled with her phone before finally clicking the speaker button.

"Can you hear me now Faye?" her Grandmother's voice rung through the car.

"Yes Grams, we can hear you," she replied.

"Oh okay good! Hello precious boy! How are you doing today?"

I blinked, my throat felt dry and I swallowed.

Surely she wasn't calling me that?

After the silence had gone on for long enough, I cleared my throat, "I am alright ma'am, how are you?"

"You're so sweet, I'm doing wonderful," she cooed on the phone.

My brain refused to comprehend that she was talking to me.

"I just wanted to say hello! I'll let you two kids have fun, be safe," she said in a motherly voice, and my heart fell to my stomach.

Alette whispered a goodbye and hung up the phone. She peeked over at me a few times, looking as though she wanted to say something.

After the seventh time, I looked at her and said, "Yes?"

"Sorry about that, Grams just wanted to make sure everything was okay...a-and she said she w-wanted to talk to you," she mumbled, picking at her jeans.

"Don't apologize," she looked up at me with big eyes, and nodded at my firm tone.

She continued staring at me for the next five minutes, causing Goosebumps to rise all over my body. Finally, I pulled into the hidden driveway of my house, and drove to park in front of the garage.

She looked out of the tinted car window, intrigued by her surroundings. I unbuckled my seatbelt and slowly, let go of her hand, hating not being able to feel her skin on mine anymore.

She must have felt the same way because the corners of her mouth turned down, her lips forming a slight pout. I had to forcefully drag my eyes away from her mouth.

Don't even think of her like that.

I got out of the car, grabbed my jacket and the cookies from the back, and rushed to her side before she could open the door for herself.

She whispered a thank you, and got out of the car. Her eyes widened as they looked up at my house.

"Woah," she said quietly, seemingly awestruck.

A wave of satisfaction flowed through me at her approval of my place. It wasn't anything grand whatsoever. Just a two story, three-bedroom home with a yard and a pool. It was tucked away, covered by trees. It was away from the city, not as far as Alette's home, but far away enough that the noises of the city didn't drift into my home. There were a few more houses on the street, mainly families with smaller kids that liked to play outside all the time.

"This house is so pretty Reecie," she whispered sweetly.

Reecie? Good lord.

I nodded at her, feeling prideful at her comment; if she liked it, then it must count for something.

She reached over and grabbed my hand again, intertwining our fingers. The action made my heart race.

I held on tighter.

She grabbed the box of cookies out of my hand so that I could unlock the door, and we walked inside. Her eyes were warm as they darted around the place.

"So nic-"

She was cut off at a loud meowing noise, as my self-proclaimed pet strutted around the corner.

Fat bastard.

"Oh my gosh Reece, a cat!" Alette said excitedly, pointing to the fat lump of grey and white fur that sat in the doorway of the living room.

"Can I touch it pretty please?" Alette asked, fluttering her breathtaking eyes at me. As if I could ever say no.

I nodded slowly. She squealed and began taking off her shoes before walking any further into my house.

She walked forwards, slowly towards the cat, I could see her blinking her eyes, probably trying to tell the cat she wasn't a threat.

I watched her actions, amused, she really was something else. I took off my shoes, and hung my jacket on the rack beside the door. Grabbing the white box of cookies, I walked into the kitchen, keeping an eye on Alette and the cat. I heard her little footsteps following me into the kitchen and relaxed. I didn't want to dwell on the fact that she had that effect on me.

She was holding the cat, which looked at me almost teasingly. He hated being touched, and picking him up usually resulted in scratches, so the fact that she wasn't bleeding was surprising. I shook my head, now not wanting to dwell on the fact that I was jealous of a damn feline.

"I didn't know you had a pet," she said, looking down him in her arms and stroking his head. "What a precious little baby, yes you are," she cooed at him, hugging him close. Definitely jealous, God damn it.

"Found him when he was a kitten, he got stuck in my backyard fence, he didn't leave afterwards, so now he lives here," I said, my back to her, as I washed my hands getting ready to cook.

I turned around, drying my hands on a towel when I saw that she looked beyond troubled. My eyes widened, and I took long strides to get to her, ready to rip the stupid cat out of her arms if he had hurt her.

"He w-was stuck? Did he get hurt?" she asked, upset all over her features. Good lord.

I let out a sigh of relief through my nose, glad she wasn't hurt, "No, he was fine, I mean look at him now." I gestured to his fat body.

She stroked him again and he soaked up all the attention. Bastard.

"What's his name?"

I turned back around, walking to the fridge, "Grasso."

She didn't need to know that the name meant 'fat' in Italian.

"Such a cute name oh my gosh!" she squealed, and put him down on the floor. Then she turned to me, her hands behind her back, as she beamed up at me. "Not as cute as yours though Reecie."

Her smile hit me like ray of sunlight in the eyes, and I stood feeling shell-shocked.

I cleared my throat, "What do you want to eat?"

"Oh," her eyes widened, "You don't have to cook for me, it's o-"

A look from me cut her off.

"Um anything i-is f-fine," she said.

"Allergies?"

She shook her head, and I nodded in acknowledgment.

I began grabbing ingredients to make a meal for her. Being on my own my whole life, cooking was something I picked up early on, because I had to be self-sufficient. At this point in my life, it was therapeutic for me, a calming break from strenuous job I worked.

"Can I help you please?" she asked hesitantly. Her question made my shoulders tense up. I didn't want to hear fear in her voice when she spoke to me, but letting someone into my space wasn't something that was easy for me to usually do.

For her, I would break all my rules.

I nodded slowly, relaxing my shoulders a little. Since I didn't want to give her a knife, I grabbed a pot and handed it to her. Not that I didn't think she was capable enough to use a knife, my brain couldn't physically handle the thought of her so close to something that could cause her any harm.

You should probably keep her away from yourself if you didn't want that.

"Fill this up with water, to boil."

She nodded at my instruction, her whole body bouncing up and down with excitement, and she grabbed the pot from my hands.

The feeling of our fingers as they brushed against one another was cause enough for me to get Goosebumps again.

I started chopping the ingredients I needed, and gave her instructions along the way. She listened and didn't complain; it was almost as if she understood that I was struggling with this, and wanted to make sure I was okay.

Perfect, beautiful girl.

Together we made the pasta dish and I plated it up in two bowls. At some point, without me realizing it, us being in the kitchen felt natural. Like it was a daily occurrence.

I want to make it a daily occurrence.

I clenched my jaw and my fists, my nails digging into my skin, trying to rid myself of thoughts like that. I put down our plates on the kitchen island, across from each other, and she sat down, handing me a fork. I took a seat on a stool, and looked up to see her looking down at her food, biting her lip.

She looked up at me, then murmured something under her breath talking to herself. After a few minutes, she looked as though she had stopped thinking so hard, and got up and off of her stool. My brow rose in confusion-did she not like pasta?-but she didn't look at me. Instead, she picked up her plate and walked around the island, and pulled out the chair directly beside mine.

She sat down beside me, and grabbed her fork, still looking down. I could see the tips of her ears turn red, she was embarrassed.

She wanted to be near me.

Instead of questioning her seat change, not that I minded, I looked away from her, and started eating my food.

After a few bites of my own food, I saw through my peripheral that she had finally looked up, and was bringing her first bite to her pink lips.

The second she chewed and swallowed her food, she let out a content sigh.

"This is so yum Aresius! You're such a good cook," she said happily, and looked over at me. Finally.

"Thank you," I replied, my voice low, and my tone unsure. I hadn't cooked for anyone before.

"You really didn't have to do this for me, you're such a wonderful friend!"

Friend.

The word left an ugly taste in my mouth, and a bitter feeling in my chest. I don't want that.

But everything was all right again when she grabbed my hand and held it tightly in her small one, and began eating again.

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