#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...
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this is the last chapter, and so it goes to my twin at heart gulabjamuns 💜 i will never run out of purple hearts for you
| Chapter 65 |
| before i go |
The small kitchen above the Quake, attached to the Salvare's living quarters, was completely silent -- except for the steady rush of water where Bree was scrubbing the dishes that'd been used for breakfast an hour ago.
Vanessa had a meeting with one of her clients regarding a case, and Maya was at her school despite it being a weekend. Something about rehearsals for a play.
"How's your mum holding up?" Bree asked Nick, keeping her eyes on the plate she was washing right then.
Nick leant his back against the sink, his arm brushing Bree's, and glanced at her through the corner of his eyes. "Good," he answered. "She's been in better shape... But she's doing good enough, you know, considering."
"That's good to hear," Bree said, before placing the washed plate in the rack with unnecessary force.
Nick sighed. "Bree--"
"Can you let me have these few minutes?" She asked him quietly. "Please? I want to have some peace of mind while doing the dishes at least."
Nick pursed his lips and didn't say anything. Bree had been withdrawn and off ever since he'd told her about what Westlake and detective Huxley had discussed with him and his mother.
He wouldn't have been surprised if Bree had screamed and thrown something at him. In fact, he thought she was actually dealing with the possibility of him leaving quite well.
But there was no possibility. No way. Nick wasn't going to leave. This was home now.
"I'll be in your room," Nick murmured, and started pushing himself off the sink.
"No," Bree said, her voice carrying a slight tremble. "Stay."
Nick tried to not wonder if there was another meaning underlying that one word. Stay.
Because Bree didn't need to ask him to stay -- not in that way. He wasn't leaving. He couldn't.
"Okay," he said in a quiet voice.
Nick moved towards her, slipping his arms around her waist as she washed the last of the dirty dishes, and rested his chin on her shoulder blade.
The spray of the water and Bree's soft breathing were all the sounds that filled Nick's ears right then. And for that moment, he seemed to be content with it.
It felt like another promise. A promise of normalcy. Of a life that wasn't just survival but fulfillment.
The flow of the water faded as the tap was turned off, and Nick felt Bree's body move underneath his arms as she reached for a kitchen towel to dry her hands with.
