On Sunday, Madison makes them both get out of the house.

She's gotten used to Nick's motorbike, and his body, so there are no qualms about gripping him tightly and pressing her face into his back as Nick takes them to The Love Shack. They sit in their usual booth, both of them lifting their heads, waiting for Macy.

"So what'll you lovebirds be having, then?" a rather cheerful waiter asks, his eyes bright as he taps his pen on his notebook.

His smile dims a little when Madison and Nick stare at him.

"What the f- where's Macy?" Madison says, in confusion.

The waiter blinks.

"Macy?" he repeats. "Uh, she's – she's gone. You've got me. Pete."

"Pete?" Nick repeats.

Pete looks rather confused, his forehead creasing, and Madison wants to roll her eyes at him in disparagement. Macy was never so fragile, she thinks scathingly. She narrows her eyes at the waiter before them.

"She was fired, wasn't she?"

"We're – we're not really allowed to –,"

"This is inhumane!" Nick splutters. "Macy was the best waitress you'll ever know!"

"She served a customer rocks," Pete says.

"Her charm was irresistible –,"

"She was rude and impatient and generally awful –,"

"And she had this way of looking at you, as though you were worth little more than the rubbish on the ground, that just – that was so beautiful!" Nick says, and Madison can't stop herself from laughing at his incredulity. The waiter is falling for his act, she realises, and she catches herself quickly, as Nick grins at her. Her heart stutters at the sight. "This is injustice, Pete. If that's even your real name."

"Look, sir," Pete begins, looking rather exasperated. "If you've got a complaint –,"

"You lost an angel," Nick says, shaking his head as though he can't quite believe them. He looks at Pete, serious and incredulous. "You will never know the true extent to what you have lost."

Madison snickers into her fingers and Pete spins to shoot a suspicious look towards her.

"Look," she says, "I'll have a green tea. Give him all the cakes you can find."

"Actually, she'll have your pastries and a big English breakfast, too," Nick adds, quickly, as Madison pauses. "And Godspeed, good sir."

Pete rolls his eyes as he leaves, but Madison leans forward.

"I don't need you ordering for me, Nick," she bites at him. "This isn't a – I can feed myself."

Nick shakes his head.

"I didn't say that you couldn't," he tells her. "But, a green tea? The day after you collapse in the middle of school? You make great choices, Madison."

She huffs at him but doesn't argue.

"This dance lesson, remember that you have to turn your body with me," Madison reminds him. She sketches out the figures on the stack of napkins for him. "See? If you move that way, like Bastien says, I can lean into you and you can dip me properly for once."

"I dipped you perfectly this morning," Nick tells her, his eyes bright and wicked.

"If you dip me like that in front of my mother, she'll hit you with her shoe," Madison rebuffs.

Both of them snicker together and as Pete comes back with their food, she hesitates only once over the plates of food before them. Her fingers linger tentatively over the soft piece of flaky pastry, her mouth watering, and Madison knows that Nick is nervous, too. She has a way of knowing what he feels, from the tilt of his brows to the purse of his lips.

"Need me to feed that to you?" Nick teases.

Madison scoffs at him, but the idea doesn't sound so bad, she thinks to herself. Her gaze lingers briefly on Nick's broad hand, imagining eating from his fingers. She shakes her head quickly, heat flaring up in the pits of her stomach, and reaches to pull the pastry apart, putting some of it into her mouth.

It's glorious, the flaky pieces of warm buttered pastry falling apart within her mouth. Madison lets out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding and for the first time, she feels content.

"Okay, so now that that's out of the way, what did you do for English?" Nick is asking, as he pulls out books and a whole sheaf of papers. "Because all those poems give me a headache."

She leans forward to examine the papers.

"Byron is easy," Madison tells him. "He loves love and nature and stuff. See this line? Over here..."

As they continue, over breakfast, in the back of Madison's head, she finds that she rather likes this. She's found, recently, that being with Nick brings about a sense of peace within her fiery heart and it's easier than anything else. Sometimes, she just wants to stay in bed a little longer, just to be with him, just to enjoy his company.

She had woken up today, earlier than him for once, and his arm had been a weight against her waist, his face sleepy and peaceful. Madison had found that she was so warm and comfortable that she didn't want to move, curling up into Nick's broad side as he moaned in his sleep, clutching her tighter.

This train of thought scares her, so Madison reaches for some tea to gulp down.

Her phone trills.

"What's wrong?" Nick's voice is soft and careful, as he reaches for the berries on her plate.

"It's my mother," Madison says, her brows furrowed. She picks up Nick's glass of water and pouring some into her own glass. "She's coming back."

Nick starts, almost hitting his head.

"Now?"

He looks around as though he expects her mother to pop up out of the seats.

"Not now," Madison says, rolling her eyes. "Tonight." She is thinking quickly and already starts to get up from her seat, taking out the money for her breakfast and tossing the notes down. "I have to sort some things out for her arrival. Dress nicely."

"Really, because I was going to meet your mother in my birthday suit."

Nick is cracking up at his own joke.

She pauses briefly to roll her eyes at him, before hurrying away.

*

"No, Becky! Mother is allergic to peonies!"

Madison refrains from huffing, but just barely. God, she thinks, as she clatters quickly to the offensive bouquet that Becky is holding. Does she have to do everything?

"I'm – I'm sorry –," Becky manages to get out, before she begins to clear the lump in her throat.

Turning her head sharply, Madison frowns at her housekeeper.

"Do you have a cold?" she demands. "Mother doesn't like getting ill, Becky – what have I told you –,"

"No, Miss Madison," Becky gets out quickly, shaking her head. The movement makes the beautiful fresh peonies shimmer briefly, the soft pink catching the sunlight. "I'm just – I wanted to ask you something."

Madison reaches to arrange the new bouquet of daisies, her fingers trailing across the dewy white petals.

"Oh?"

"I've been – I'm having some trouble with my landlord," Becky says, and when Madison looks at her housekeeper, Becky flushes an embarrassed bright red. She fumbles over her words, rather awkward, as Madison stares. "He – well, he bumped up the price and I'm sure he's just done it to only me, even though I've been nothing but kind, and I think he did it because I turned him down that one night, but it's just been getting really difficult plus he's got a key to my place, too, and I'm not a suspicious kind of girl but sometimes, I get home and things are just a little bit off and I –,"

"Becky, I don't like rambling."

"No, yes, I know," Becky says quickly, looking uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything."

"Are you asking me to raise your pay?" Madison asks, completely unabashed.

Unlike many others she meets, she's not too fussy talking about money.

Truth be told, she doesn't really understand why some people are so uncomfortable. They are just a few pieces of paper, after all, with different values based on whatever number is written on them.

Becky's cheeks are stained red.

"Yeah – yes," she says, as she lifts her head up. "It's been a really tough couple of weeks and I always meant to move out sooner, to leave this –,"

She stops herself quickly, but Madison realises what she means.

It is then Madison begins to truly wonder about her housekeeper.

It can't have been every young girl's dream, she thinks to herself, to grow up and become a glorified maid to someone she could only dream of being. She wonders what Becky dreamed of being.

And then she realises.

To someone else, to Becky, money isn't just a few pieces of paper.

Even to Nick, she thinks, remembering the way he scoffs his food as though someone might snatch it from his fingers, as though someone has snatched it from his fingers, the way he forgets what his mother is. She'd made fun of him for so much, but the humiliation and stiff pride cracking in Becky's eyes puts something in her throat.

"Well," Madison says, and she has never sounded so delicate and careful before. "I have been meaning to speak to you about a pay rise, so thank you for reminding me, Becky. What with Mother's frequent trips, you taking care of me, and my needing you to watch Winston all the time, I can't imagine it must be easy having to pull in so many hours. I'll have it sorted for you, by the afternoon." She moves to turn away and then clears her throat, turning back. "Oh, and I have to remind you of this dreaming program thing Mother's company is doing. It's like an internship and it puts funds into whatever you want to do in your career. Louie thought it might be a good idea to pitch the idea to the staff, first. Would you mind testing it out?"

Becky is staring at her, with eyes so bright that Madison shifts, a little. There is the beginning of a warm smile cut within the softening corners of Becky's lips, as her housekeeper's eyes grow slightly watery. She nods briefly, her fingers pressed against her lips.

Madison turns away quickly and claps her hands impatiently at the staff. She starts to demand things of them, but even in the chaos, Madison hears Becky's soft murmur.

"I knew there was a reason I stayed."

Her throat thickens.

*

"Oh, for goodness sake," Madison says, when she sees Nick. "Have you never even seen a tie?"

He looks devastatingly handsome in his suit, all debonair and classic in a way that makes her mouth go dry, and he's staring at her, with those big and hopeful eyes. She realises, somewhere in the back of her mind, that Nick has actually tried. He's dressed nicely, for her, for this dinner. Madison startles at the thought and clears her throat quickly, summoning up her best amount of derision.

Nick straightens his suit jacket.

"I told you, those things are a noose just waiting to happen –,"

"My mother already thinks you're too scruffy for me." She promptly reaches for her bag and pulls out the tie, catching sight of Nick's fallen face. Madison lets a devious smile lift up her lips. "You're lucky I came prepared."

"Get that thing away from me –," Nick begins, as he barks with laughter and attempts to scramble back away from Madison.

She brandishes the tie at him.

Nick yelps.

"Oh, you big baby," Madison scoffs, but she's laughing as she reaches for Nick, her fingers tightening around the edge of his suit jacket.

Madison pulls him towards her, but Nick is too strong and stays still, laughing at her, even as she stumbles towards him. He reaches for her immediately, his big arms settling around her to steady her, his eyes bright, but Madison has already looped the tie around his neck. She shoots him a triumphant smirk, as Nick proceeds to pretend that he is being strangled.

"So, did you help Becky?" Nick asks her, as he reaches for something behind her back.

Focusing on getting the knot just right, Madison hums in response. Then, she frowns.

"How did you know?"

"I heard Louie talking to her on the phone," he says. "Something about an internship?"

"Oh, yeah, remind me to start an internship program in my mother's company," Madison tells him and when Nick continues to look at her quizzically, she explains, her gaze focused on the tie.

There is something wondrous in the way Nick is staring at her, his face more vulnerable than she has ever seen him, but for sleep. His eyes are warm and bright, a soft flicker of a smile flitting about his lips. Something in Madison warms at the sight.

Her fingers leave his neck reluctantly, but Nick doesn't step away, continuing to look down at her.

"That was really nice of you," he says to her, his voice a soft murmur.

Madison blinks.

Nobody has ever called her nice. It feels good.

It feels way better than when her friends told her she was rude and callous, that's for sure, she thinks to herself.

"Thanks," she says, before she can stop herself, quiet and soft.

Nick's lips lift, then, into the softest beginnings of a smile. He reaches for something and Madison rolls her eyes at the cupcakes on the plate.

"I baked something for you," he tells her.

"Sure you didn't put poison in it?"

"Who else would I have to annoy at school?"

Madison laughs lightly, as Nick chuckles. She reaches for the cupcake tentatively, swallowing nervously. It looks good, but there's a strange dip within her stomach at the sight of it, as though just looking at it is wrong. She thinks of how she fainted and how she can't have such an embarrassing thing happen in front of her mother, so Madison flicks out a finger and sinks it into the cream.

She tastes it tentatively and blinks in surprise.

"It's good."

"You've only had the cream," Nick points out, but his gaze lingers on her lips. He rolls his eyes at her and reaches for the cupcake, tearing a piece apart with his broad hands. "Open up."

"What am I, five?" Madison teases, but she opens her mouth obligingly.

He lingers a little and she bites down lightly on his finger, her eyes bright and sparking wickedly. Madison has never felt so playful before. This is not usually her. Even with her old boyfriends, she never used to dally with them like this.

"It's good," she tells him.

"I aim to please, Your Majesty."

Nick bows to her and her smile slipping across her lips, Madison inclines her head to him light-heartedly. He reaches for her fingers and she takes his hand, allowing him to sway them back and forth before he twirls her gently.

She lets out a heavy breath, leaning her head on his shoulder, as though all of the terribleness of the past few days that have gathered up inside her do not matter anymore, as though it all washes away with one breath, with Nick's touch.

*