I was rooted to the spot, pointing at the stack of sheets in my hand. "I had to get this for the project and you weren't coming home so Rosalie offered me to get it from your room myself, and I know—"

Evan pocketed his hands. He was leaning against the doorway. "I know why you're here. Rosalie told me that already."

I blinked. I should've known I was escaping way too smoothly. "I'm still sorry—"

He held a finger, and the worst thing about this was how I couldn't assess his face. "Save that apology. Why didn't you call me if you'd encountered trouble?"

I stilled. Well, you see, I never once encountered trouble, but I sure as hell have created plenty of them now. "I tried to." I lied, heels squirming. "It went straight to voicemail."

"Strange." He stared right at me, no humour in his voice. "I was on my phone for the most part of today, and I didn't see any missed calls."

I smiled the most awkward tilt of the lips. "Yeah. My phone's been acting weird lately."

"I already emailed you that." His gaze dropped to what I was holding for dear life, and I clutched it closer. "Was that not enough?"

"As I said, my phone's just not cooperating. The file wouldn't open," I walked near the entrance, inadvertently getting closer to him. Distance was suitable, but he was blocking the damn exit. "But it's fine. I'll get it done now, so—"

"Maybe I could fix your phone." He held out a hand, and I finally latched my eyes to his. There was a glimmer in his gaze, intense and mischievous. "Hand it over."

My erratic beating slowed just a fraction upon seeing the look in his eyes. He wasn't mad. Okay. "It's fine. I've troubled you enough as it is."

He rose an eyebrow. "We met a minute ago, Edwards. I've not nearly had enough of you yet."

Never mind to hoping my heart would've been anything but a stuttering, wild prey. His presence in itself was a safety hazard for the dumbly beating thing in the centre of my chest. It buzzed to the tune of heat his palm emanated when his fingers brushed mine. Soared to lodge my throat the instant my vigilance fell apart, finding us at growing proximity.

Damn him. I tried to squeeze past the left size, but he extended his arms. As I scooted to the right, he caged me with his torso.

I huffed, took three steps back, and looked him in the eye. "Evan."

"Laura." He reciprocated with the same look. "Stop running away."

"I'm not running away," I argued, nearing him. "I need to work on this, and I. . ."

He looked bothered. My words dissolved on their own, and I found myself staring, unable to create distance. "Are you upset?"

"No," he said softly. "Why would I be?"

I looked down. "Because I was looking into your stuff without your permission. The fact that I'm even in your room right now. . .I'm—"

He brushed his finger on my lips. "Don't say it."

His eyes were burning, and I did not pull away. All strength to resist him was stripped away from me, replaced with the ceaseless need to lean. "The photo frame," I mumbled. I did not know how to continue, to give voice to a single, tangled thought.

Somehow, he seemed to know.

"It's my mom and I." His grin was sorrowful, eyes dimming. I separated from him as he walked to his desk, picking up the picture with both of his hands. "Wasn't I cute as a child?"

I tried to smile, and he motioned for me to walk closer. He pointed to a corner of the picture I'd previously ignored, where an artbook and a painting palette was discarded too close to the waves. "She was an artist, always painting whatever she set her eyes on. There were paint smudges everywhere," he laughed. "The only thing I remember clearly when I think back to this day is the painting she made while I tried my best to bother her."

"Evan." I glanced back at the photo. "What happened?"

"She got diagnosed. Stage three lung cancer." His voice had grown distant. "Passed away within a year."

My chest concaved. He was standing so close, but I didn't know what to do. All of gravity weighed my limbs with a sudden pull, and I could only manage to utter a weak, "I'm so sorry."

He shook his head. Smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "It's been four years. She never had a good relationship with dad, and they divorced long before he remarried Rosalie." He put the frame back to its place, gaze holding mine. "Also, yes. Evelyn's my half-sister."

I opened my mouth to speak, but he interrupted me, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry for unloading that all on you. I just don't. . .," he paused. "I don't want to keep anything from you. Especially since you'd already figured half of it out."

"Evan," I called out, wrapping a hand around his arm. I felt him freeze for a fleeting moment, but then he was standing in front of me, eyes bright again.

"Will you let me figure out what's wrong with your phone now?"

It was obvious he wanted to come up for air. I let him divert the topic, eyes soft.

"You're still not giving up?"

"On you?" His mouth quirked up. "Never."

My throat restrained. It was something about the way this boy's eyes gleamed. And for every second they masked sadness, a strange fury unfurled inside of me—because if there was one smile I was willing to fight to protect, it would be his. I would snatch the sorrow right out of his palms if I could.

Eyes set on the device laying atop my palms, I brought my hands forward. Gestured to him with my eyes. He picked my phone with clear curiosity, and I watched him swipe it open and click on the emails.

The numerous files he'd sent my way opened with ease.

I grinned.

He narrowed his eyes whilst shoving the research-filled screen into my face. "Care to explain?"

"The project was an excuse. I came to see you."

I tried to get the phone from his hands, but he pertained his vice-grip, pulling me along with it. "What for?"

I titled my head, smiling. "To talk." Obviously.

"Hold that thought, then." He flashed a grin. "I'm taking you somewhere."

▂

I COULDN'T BELIEVE HE HAD DECIDED TO TAKE ME TREKKING. It was freezing, and today's weather forecast predicted the chances of rain to be a whooping ninety. What was wrong with him?

"Hey," he called out again. He probably expected for me to dance up the rocks in an instant, deeming me the most agile of all.

He had to be kidding.

"No way." I reverted back. The path—with all the million little stones and branches twisting within themselves—looked like it had materialized from my worst nightmare. "That's. . .are you in the right mind? That's too unsafe. Definitely unlawful."

He gave me the dirtiest look. "You're fine with being chased by the police, but hiking on public property is where you draw the line?"

I tried another route. "Do you think my frail body can take upon a hiking adventure?"

He looked at me as if I'd stolen his wallet and was trying to blame it on him.

I tried my best impression of puppy eyes.

He replied: "Get your ass here and get walking."

Wasn't that real polite. "Are we at least headed somewhere?" He'd driven us here with no information to share. I hoped to have a clue, if anything.

"Yes, Laura," he sang, rolling his eyes. "This isn't your average hike. We have a goal. A destination."

"Car rides usually have a destination too," I mused. "And they're more convenient."

He didn't utter a word. I prayed to heavens this goal-oriented walk would bring some warmth, at the least. He extended a hand, which I begrudgingly took, and the steepest part of the journey was over.

"Careful." He muttered as we jumped past big rocks. I could see myself trip and fall and bang my head against one of them. It made me wince.

"You know," I whispered. "I hate hikes. Especially when my hands are falling apart because they're literal icicles. I can't feel my feet."

He turned to face me. His eyes swooped from my head to my toes, gaze scrutinizing. Then, he made a remarkable discovery, tongue clicking. "You don't have pockets."

Again. This was miserable. Was this just my ill luck, or universe's sign for something? I needed to buy more clothes with some goddamned pockets.

I rolled my eyes, but he grabbed my arm and placed both my hands into his sweatshirt pocket. "There you go."

I laughed in bewilderment. "How on earth will I walk now?"

"Easily," he retorted, eyes amused. "Do you lack coordination?"

We were further into the woods, I assumed. Slightest of light fell through branches and leaves, elaborating down wide gaps of trees before falling on the ground. It was gloomier than I expected. The sky remained a dark web of grey, clouds animating themselves. It smelled like earth: raw and recharging. If it weren't so cold, I would've rested against a tree—probably sat under it for a while. There wasn't another soul to be found apart from us. I guess there could always be paranormal creatures, but I'd notice their presence in the afterlife with my limited functioning braincells. If Evan had brought me out here to kill me, he was going to succeed.

"Hey," I called out. He was walking further into the flat land which I'd only now noticed. "This is starting to look like a real murder location. If you're planning to get rid of me, you might as well—"

"You asked me a question that day."

My jaw unhinged.

He continued before I could retaliate. "I'm not seeing anyone."

Oh. My eyes wanted to look elsewhere, but the intensity in his glare was back. We are doing this here? Right now?

I had been shocked into silence when he turned to walk my way, but what he said next sent me speechless.

"Do I look like I have been seeing someone when I want to spend all of my time with you?"

His words were so unexpected, I might've gasped. Or maybe that was because I stepped on a twig and tumbled back, but his hold resurfaced me to face him.

"Do I look like I want anything from anyone other than you?"

My heart leapt loudly to my ears. He smelled like cologne and slight detergent, something I felt aware of. It was so familiar, everything about him, even if I was learning it for the first time. He had infiltrated entirely—he rested in the deepest parts of my heart.

My erratic breathing slowed.

It started raining.

When I didn't say anything, he took a step back. Another. Another. The rain was bleak, not even fazing him.

I wasn't letting him walk away. "Hey," I called. He turned around, slowly, painfully, and then he was staring. His face was slightly pink from the cold. He looked so adorable, I had to smile. That confused him. He twisted his lips in a frown, but I had stridden over, standing in his space before he could say anything.

"I answered your question." His gaze faltered. "We can move—"

I clasped my hands around his arm. Drifted to his wrists. His eyes widened, but I was holding his hand regardless of his facial expressions. "I know. But then you asked why I care, and it's because it's you. It's you we're talking about." I laughed. It was easy, suddenly. The easiest thing in the world. "I fucking like you. I thought it was obvious."

He looked like he was holding back a laugh, so I warned him beforehand. "Don't."

I opened my mouth to say more, but my words got cut off.

The pouring started then—falling and falling and falling, weighing down on my clothes. We stood for not more than a moment whilst Evan wiped the raindrops which landed on my cheek.

Then we ran. We ran to the nearest tree big enough for shelter, eyes hazed and mouths parted and laughter filling to the brim in the air. Even the silence hummed, electrified. He sighed next to me, curls pressing on his forehead.

I pulled him to face me. "Why did Evelyn tell me you went on a date?"

"Oh, sweetheart," he teased, half of his mouth upturned. "I never said I didn't."

I starting retracting my hands from his shoulders, but he grabbed my waist so tightly, it made me catch a breath. His lips were on my jaw before it could make sense, and then everything was spinning. Spinning, spinning, spinning.

I never wanted for the world to fall still again.

"It was an obligation." He tapped my nose, and then laughed. "If it helps, though, she had no interest in me."

I rolled my eyes. "And you?"

"I'm kissing you right now. Of course I'm head over heels for her." Slender fingers found the crook of my neck, tracing lines all the way down to my collarbone. The earth kept veering astray. "Damn it, Laura. I met her for the first time that day and I've forgotten her name already. You won't leave my goddamned mind for a split-fucking-second. Can you guess who I'm interested in now?"

I was grinning so wide, I might've been descending into hysteria. "Mhm."

He saw me smile. He saw how my lips curved all the way to my eyes, how I tipped my head on his shoulder, and I watched his eyes set aflame.

His lips brushed mine. His hand caressed my jaw and mine found his neck and rain pelted down, and he tasted like sugar and stardust and magic. The rain had jaded the whole landscape, but my vision was brimming with gold. My mind only knew of him—his voice, his laugh, his kisses. I pulled away to look at his face, but he kissed my neck instead. He trailed kisses all the way up to my ear, and only stopped because I giggled and writhed too much.

He knew I was ticklish. Extremely so. And he deemed tickling me as the sky poured down okay. This was the aftermath of all that I'd done today.

He stopped, then. I let my head fall to his chest, and his hands flailed back to life. I started struggling when I thought he was going to start it again, but he pulled me back. His hands wrapped around me in a hug.

His grin did not vanish for one second.

one word: FINALLY????

hope y'all liked it and are staying safe and healthy!

you're golden,

abrial