#18 in TeenFic
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❝Don't,❞ he pleaded softly, offering her a tiny smile, ❝please don't make me a promise you will never be able to keep.❞ He released a quiet but deep breath, leaning forward even more, tilting his body towards her, until thei...
Bree stood completely still as she kept her eyes trained on the guy who was seated on the front steps of Nick's dorm building. He was a few years older than them, that much was certain -- and though she'd never seen him around, that pair of amber eyes, short but angular nose, together with the lean body frame, told Bree that he was definitely related to Nick.
And when she'd heard the name Mike spill out of Nick's mouth, she suddenly remembered;
I had a brother. . .Michael's not - he's not dead. . .He's not someone I'd be able to recognise. . .I had a brother. . .because now he's something else. . .
Mike. Michael. Nick's older brother he'd only ever spoken about once to her.
Bree stepped back to stand shoulder to shoulder with Nick, somehow wanting to put more distance between herself and the stranger. He wasn't leaving though, despite what Nick had just said.
She turned her face towards Nick, feeling utterly helpless right then, with no idea what to do -- but found his eyes already on her.
And then Bree froze, realising that Nick's "Leave" hadn't been directed at his brother but at her. At Bree.
"What?" She blinked at him. "Nick--"
He pulled his hand from hers, ripping out his fingers from the tight grip they had on her own ones, and stepping away from her side. "Go, Bree," his voice was a touch softer than the harshness of his movements. "Go."
Bree had never brought up Michael after that one time Nick had mentioned him -- and Nick had never really spoken about him again. She'd figured it was a sore subject, but this still hurt.
Deep down, she was aware that this was like a punch to the gut for Nick himself. Because she doubted he ever expected to find his brother waiting on the doorstep -- literally at the doorstep -- for him.
But, for now, witnessing Nick send his walls flying back up around him and watching him slip back into that shell he once used to shield himself with hurt her in a way she didn't think was possible.
Bree saw the old Nick once more, caught a glimpse of the boy she met months and months back. She saw it in the tight set of his mouth, in the hardness around his eyes, in the tensed posture of his shoulders. The boy that had been scared, but cautious. The boy whose fears had been borderline paranoia.
She was watching him transform from the Nick he'd slowly unravelled himself to be, to the Nick from a lifetime ago -- she was watching it happen right in front of her eyes, with him being just an arm's distance away... and Bree could do abosultely nothing to stop it.
