Deception. Betrayal. Mistrust.
It seems the closer Rayne gets to the truth, the more she finds herself wanting to run away from it. It's complex and terrifying-more than she ever fathomed.
New family members, good and bad, pop out at her like a br...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"𝗔re you getting tired?"
Eden flung her hair over her shoulder, tipping her chin to get a view of her boyfriend walking into the party room, arms supported on his crutches. Blaine shut the door behind him and gave her a small smile, signifying that although he didn't want to admit it, he was.
She walked over to him and grabbed his hand, directing him to the couch by the fireplace. It wasn't lit, rather littered with old wood and melted ashes because of the summer heat, but the idea of them having a moment near one soothed her bones, and allowed for a syrupy ambiance.
"Here," she lowered him.
"Thanks," he puffed, handing her the crutches.
Eden leaned them against the side of the table within his reach and tucked a leg under her butt as she settled into the cushions beside him. Blaine reached across the back of the couch and interlocked his fingers through the soft curls of her blonde hair. He absentmindedly played with it while he stared straight, seeming to have a million thoughts racing through his head.
"What're you thinking about?" she asked.
"Everything and nothing at all."
"Franki?" she tested.
Blaine nodded shortly, still staring.
When the news broke to them that Franki had no chance of waking up from her coma and that a withdrawal of care was the best thing they could do for her, she immediately ran to Blaine. She had tried to comfort him with hugs and cuddles, but it hadn't been enough. And her words never made it further than her thoughts.
She had no idea how to comfort someone.
So, when they pulled the plug on the only girl friend she'd never had, she stuffed her tears in a box and locked them away. When they pulled her bed out of the room and escorted her down to the morgue, she gripped her boyfriend's hand and prayed that their contact was enough to keep him whole.
Blaine had told her the story of Ezra.
She'd lost Julian, but she couldn't imagine losing both siblings. She couldn't imagine losing the anchors to her life in the way that he had.
"Do you want to talk about her? About how you're feeling?"
Blaine didn't answer for a moment.
Then he turned his head and looked at her. The corners of his lips pushed up in a semi-forced smile, and that former sparkle that normally ignited in his deep black eyes appeared for a flash of a heartbeat. Blaine kissed her lips quickly, pulling away before she could even think to kiss back.
"No, my girl," he said softly, still playing with her hair, "I don't want to talk about Franki right now. I miss her and I'll grieve her, but I don't want every conversation to be about her. Distract me."
