Your Eyes Tell

9 / now

Nick Peterson hasn't been alone with his ex-girlfriend since the breakup. Not like this, anyway.

Not in painful silence, not in the way Kaia's sitting like she's about to give Nick a job interview. Not in the way they find talking so difficult when it was as easy as breathing before, and not in the way they don't love each other.

Correction. Not in the way Kaia doesn't love him.

His eyes and face still burn.

"Thank you," Nick starts, clearing his throat and shifting in his seat. He's looking everywhere except for Kaia's face. "For agreeing...to do this."

This was a bad idea, but it was his idea, and he'd rather do this than watch his mother, father, and brothers crumble in front of him.

Nick blames the Disease. He—he blames it for his brother, for Orion, for consuming them. What kind of shit is cruel enough to be so feared? People are afraid to love, and people are afraid to be loved.

Love is already cruel enough.

"I like to think I'm saving you from an unnecessary death at the hands of Helene," Kaia jokes, mouth curving into a smile.

Nick lets out a small chuckle, shaking his head. "I owe you my life, then."

"Noted with thanks. So, how are we going to do this?"

His eyes focus on Kaia's dark, big ones. "I think my mom knows there's something off with us. I...I kind of change the subject when she brings you up, or tell her you're busy or make up some excuse when she wants to call...but she probably thinks we just fought, so we're just going to convince her that we've worked things out and we're still, you know." He vaguely gestures around with one hand, eyes on the scar on her forehead. "In love."

"And are you going to be okay with doing that?"

Nick swallows thickly. "Huh?"

"Nick. Come on." Kaia laughs a bit, leaning back against her chair with crossed arms. "We're going to share a room and act affectionate with each other. Kiss, hug, hold hands in front of them. No one's going to buy our act if you look like you're having spasms whenever we're breathing the same air."

He scoffs, head turning away. "I do not look like I'm having spasms."

"You can't even look at me," she points out.

Nick forces his head to turn back to her. Forces himself to stare at her eyes, even though the rest of his body freezes up because, well, this is the girl he still loves. "I can look at you."

Kaia's eyebrow raises, and she leans forward, propping her elbows on the table. "It took you almost a year to be able to hold eye contact with me longer than ten seconds. It also took almost a year for you to kiss me and hold my hand without freaking out or running away. We have a few days before your family is expecting us home, how do I know you can—"

He grabs her hand across the table and squeezes it. Kaia's mouth closes.

Nick raises one eyebrow. "This is how you know," he says, interlacing their fingers together. Still keeping her gaze.

For all of his braveness, the back of his eyes sting and prickle, like they're threatening to spill his secret right then and there. And for all of his braveness, holding Kaia's hand makes his stomach drop, remembering this familiar yet unfamiliar warmth he'd forgotten for nine months, remembering all the times his parents had practically claimed her as their future daughter-in-law, asked them when the wedding would be. All the times Helene coddled Kaia and took care of her like her own child, because she only had boys and she's always wanted a girl.