Eleven

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We walk into the hallway, hand in hand. Noah hasn't said oneword since I made the painful mistake of calling him cynical, and bringing uphis what seems to be a nightmare of a past.

Noah gleefully smiles at all of the guests. He's good at hiding pain.

Better than I thought.

As we take a place in the crowded living room, I begin to wonder if all of the smiles Noah has tossed my way were really hidden frowns, crying for help.

I shake hands with the person nearest. Right on the old lady's chest, I notice a gleaming pearl necklace.

Seeing the size of it, I can't help but crack a smile. Noah was right. It was humongous.

"You must be... Janet- Jeanine!" I correct myself. "Noah has told me all about you."

And, so it begins.

***

"So, darling, when did you meet my Noah?" asks Noah's foster mum.

I place my knife and fork down on the plate. "In college," I half-heartedly speak. "we share a dorm."

Noah doesn't even glance at me as his foster mother interrogates me like I was a murder suspect.

"And you're doing photography?" she clarifies.

I nod, smiling. "Yes. I love it."

Noah sighs before grabbing my small, freezing cold hand and giving it a squeeze. All for show, I guess.

"Aren't they precious!" cries some random aunt from far up the table.

I smirk, flashing a smile down the table. "Noah is always talking about you; about how much he loves you all." I tell everyone, looking at his extremely posh indeed looking foster parents in particular, though.

"He's a real keeper," one happily states, taking a sip from their crystal studded wine glass.

Noah grins at whatever relative had said that. Goodness knows which one!

"How long have you two been together?" asks Noah's foster dad.

"Um..." I look down to where Noah was slapping himself. Sitting on his thigh was a serviette saying '4 months'

He really has everything planned. "Four months!" I cheerfully 'brag'.

"Aww," they all coo. "how beautiful."

"Where did you meet Noah?" somebody questions me. As half of the family members are now sending me in a personality based 'Guess Who', his parents are probably able to relax and just listen.

I look down at Noah again. He shuffles through the serviettes until he finds the right one.

'In our lessons, we had to do a project together'

I speak it aloud, telling the large family all of the answers they need by just staring at the written on serviettes.

Overall, it was a success on my behalf. I don't know if Noah is still annoying of my bringing up of his childhood, but I probably needn't worry.

Noah is always in bubbling in his own moody mixtures like a pregnant woman.

After a lady collects up all of our main course plates, we scan through the couple's dessert menu.

Noah speaks up. "We'll have red velvet cake with extra marzipan icing, please Mona."

He is undoubtedly still angry. Great.

For the whole of dessert, I eat the cake and Noah tries to eat the cake before me, so I'd have to eat the marzipan. Luckily, I finish up the red velvet slice, leaving him a coat of marzipan sitting on the plate.

"Eat up!" I evilly chirp.

Noah doesn't say anything, but he scoops up the marzipan with his dessert fork and stuffs it into his mouth.

I shake my head at him, giggling.

***

We climb into the car silently. The silence was killing me, so I had to break it as Noah drove out of the long, winding driveway.

"I'm sorry Noah." I mutter. "It was really low for me to just blurt that. I seriously wasn't thinking, and I'm sorry."

I never expected myself to speak those words to Noah in my life.

Noah just nods. "Whatever."

After a while of silence, Noah takes a deep breath.

"When I was three years old, my mother died from an overdose of pills, by accident. My dad turned to hitting the pub when he was upset. He turned to hitting me when he was angry. Then, one night, someone noticed little four year old Noah crying in his cot, for a father who wasn't even in his flat. The social workers came, noticed my scars and bruises, and took me away."

I let out a little gasp. "Noah. I'm so sorry." I mutter. "Whoever your father is, he did not deserve you. He didn't."

Noah stays silent. I notice a layer of water filling up his eyes, but he doesn't cry. He stays quiet, he stays silent - he stays Noah.

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Hello Dreamers :) I hope you enjoyed that chapter. 

My question to you for this chapter is... Do you think Noah is overreacting about being called 'cynical'? If so, why?

Don't forget to vote and comment to show your love. You give me so much inspiration in your kind words and votes you give, so I'd like to thank you for that. 

                                                                           ~ Belle x

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