His father coughed, taking a napkin and wiping it against the sides of his mouth, drawing out the silence between them.
"While that might be true, it doesn't add much to your case."
Nathan raised an eyebrow hesitantly, not daring to look over at his partner. He didn't want to see the nerves wracking her. He needed to stay calm for her. "What do you mean?"
His father raised an eyebrow turning his attention to the lady at his side. "On her first case she was hospitalized. You want to hire her full time?"
Nathan suppressed the groan in his throat. "That wasn't her fault. It wasn't her fault she was sent in there alone." He hesitated, watching his father's skepticism grow. "I wouldn't let that happen to her again."
His father's eyes widened, catching Nathan by surprise. He seemed genuinely shocked by said statement. The deliberation of protection he swore to her. Regardless, his father crossed his arms.
"She hasn't been trained."
"We can get her trained. Hell, I can train her myself." He protested back, planting his fingers against the edge of the table and squeezing it in anger. He was so desperately searching for any excuse to turn her away.
His father closed his eyes, shaking his head. "You don't seem to understand my point."
"I don't, clearly." He spat back. "Care to explain?"
His father squeezed his knuckles, a faint crack entering the air around them. "She isn't equipped to handle this job."
Nathan sighed, throwing his head back and crossing his arms. "I already told you, we can--"
"No, listen to me." His father demanded, voice booming with emphasis on his rejection. "She isn't equipped. Look at her."
All eyes shifted to Hazel.
She froze.
"She's tiny. She's too thin and frail. She's weak and nervous and shy. She got severally injured on her first mission with us and was emotionally unstable the entirety of her time on duty. Do you seriously expect me to hire her on command?"
"Sir..." Nathan's voice was low and growly. Like a cat ready to pounce.
"No! She isn't the type of person we're looking for. She won't amount to anything in our agency. She isn't our type. To us, she is useless." As he spoke his voice grow louder and louder, filled with more and more rage. His son wasn't listening; was protesting against him. Just he was doing to him. Neither of them were flinching, both frustrated in the idea that the other wouldn't budge. Wouldn't open up their ears and listen.
Hazel glanced down at her food, dessert sitting before her. Untouched. Waiting. Her finger inched forwards and gingerly pushed the plate away. A distraction, if ever so slight, to take her away from the agony of listening to them argue about her presence.
"Hey! You--" Nathan stood, but it didn't stop there. Mr. Summers stood to match him.
"Other jobs are equipped for her but not us. We don't work with her! It's impossible to make it work. Get that through your skull."
"Father!"
The yell was so loud Hazel could swear it rang out the windows. Down the streets. Down the alleyways.
Suddenly, this was about more than just their partnership. It was about a father and a son. Never flinching. Never knowing. Never listening.
He took a steady breath, somehow not shaken by the snap he gave. "Hazel is my favourite person in the world to spend time with."
Her auburn eyes looked up, locking with the side of his face.
"She is the perfect partner for me, and whether you like it or not we're working together."
He scoffed. "Nathan, you aren't understanding." He shook his head, Nathan's already thin patience wavering. "She--"
"Don't say another word about her."
His father, for the first time Hazel had seen in her life, stood silent in shock. Dumbfounded at the audacity his son had to stand up to him, to refuse him to continue his words of hate against the people or things he loved.
Nathan was standing up for himself and, somehow, that wasn't expected.
Nathan ran a hand through his hair, messing it up more than the outburst already had. "I think you need to go."
He slipped away from his spot at the table, his father mirroring his actions and bitterly following him to the door.
"We'll return to the office when we're good and ready to."
"Nathan, I think--"
"Goodnight."
The door slammed shut.
There was silence. Followed by him crumpling against the door and sighing in defeat. His back lay flat against the entranceway. His head lowered to study his shoes. His eyes closed in exhaustion. His hands limp in dismay. Yet again, a battle won that he felt like he had lost.
He took a moment, collecting himself and the turmoil that wracked his body before he glanced up, searching the room for his ray of light. But he couldn't find her. Instead he found a bundle of clouds.
She stood before him, hands grasping her napkin tightly in her fists, squeezing them, allowing her fingers to shake with raw emotion. Her head was downcast, but he could tell her eyes were open. Her body was still, yet pale. She was in pain.
"He's right, you know. About me."
Nathan stood upright, pushing himself off of the door in astonishment. He had never heard her speak such a way before. So harshly about herself. She seemed genuinely upset and infuriated with herself, despite doing nothing wrong. His father had a way of doing that to others.
"I am weak, I am shy, I am..." She hesitated, her voice catching. "Worthless to you guys." She finished, sighing quietly. Her sigh was weak, almost as if giving up on holding back the pain that dwelled beneath her surface. Instead, she turned and started towards their bedroom door. She moved quickly, but compared to how fast she would normally walk she was slow. It was the defeat. The hatred. Like anchors on her feet.
Immediately, he ran after her.
He reached out, his fingers brushing against her arm, tugging against the delicate skin and pleading for her to pause.
"Haz..."
"He's right!" She screeched. Her voice loud, as if her patience had snapped like a twig producing a screech of desperate agony. "I'm not good enough for you guys." She groaned, her hands working up to her hair. "For anyone!"
His heart broke as she spoke and shattered completely when her arm removed itself from his grasp. She reached forwards for the doorknob of their room, hoping to distance herself as she allowed herself to break. Maybe she could gather her things. Brace herself to completely break from his life. The life she so enjoyed being apart of. A life she didn't belong in.
A swell of courage filled in his chest, a moment of realization, of acceptance. He spoke. "Haz, I meant it when I said you're the perfect person for me."
She paused.
"I was telling the truth."
Slowly, she turned. Eyes locking onto his. Meeting the passion. The honesty. The rawness. He was opening to her in a way she had never even before.
"You are. Not just as a partner you're perfect for me in so many ways."
Hazel blinked, turning her entire body to face him, giving him all of her attention and being. "How?"
Nathan gave a small smirk, hands working nervously into his pockets. Shyness. "All of the flaws that my father sees are things I love about you." He gave a gentle chuckle, hoping to lighten the sorrow-filled cloud that hung over the room. "There's nothing I love more than your shyness or tininess. There's nothing I love more than seeing your desk next to mine or watching you work into the night." Each word seemed to pick up speed, adding more passion and honesty to the next. Every word he spoke, every sentence he proclaimed felt so raw and real. His hands had worked their way out of his pockets and moved as he spoke, emphasizing the intensity of his adoration.
"Nathan--?"
"There's nothing I love more than seeing you in the passenger seat of my car or you at the other end of my table or your things spread around our home." He stopped, breathing and allowing himself to catch his breath. His hands fell to his sides, his gaze softening, focusing on every beautiful feature. "There's nothing I love more than you."
Her heart froze, frozen in time and in the moment he had spoken. Her eyes widened in awe. The tears previously clouding her vision had retreated to the sides, giving her full view of him standing before her, admiring her, confessing everything to her. His heart was laid out against the table, opened to her, awaiting her response.
"Nathan..." She was speechless, her heart racing, her heart pounding. Every fibre of her being heated in admiration at the love he felt for her. Shock flooded her muscles.
How could she have believed she was unloved when he stood here before her?
"I love you, Haz. Please don't think you're not worth it."
He said it again. Just as she wasn't sure if it was all a crazy dream or intense reality.
He loved her.
He really, truly, loved everything about her.
And she loved him.
Her napkin fell to the floor, her grip loosening in a glee upon hearing him speak again. Her muscles weren't working. Her brain wasn't thinking properly. Everything was an intense, magical, lovely, blur of passion.
She could feel her legs take two small steps forwards, hardly able to feel her feet beneath her. Her heart taking control rather than her muscles. Or her brain. Or anything. Their hearts, for the time being, were in control.
Nathan, upon seeing her hands extend reaching for him, took that as a cue. As acceptance. Of returned affection.
He surged forwards, accepting her fragile frame into his arms. One arm wrapped around her waist, cradling her and tugging her closer into his body. Her stomach pressed against his torso, the size difference between them now more apparent than ever. His free hand worked its way under her hair, cradling the back of her head in his palm, using his thumb to brush and admire the skin under him. Admiring the beauty he held so close. To know she was his.
Her hands reached up and clung to his shirt, simply to find an excuse for herself to be brought closer towards him. To cling to anything against him. To hold him. Just to feel his heartbeat. To know he was hers.
Their eyes locked, heads lingering so close, foreheads wavering together. Their breathing soft. Their hearts slamming against their rib cages.
"Can I?"
"Please?"
Her voice was soft and pleading, desperate for contact. For assurance of his affection. So, he did.
Her head tilted upwards and, brushing a thumb against her cheek, he leaning forwards and sweetly pressed his lips against her own.
Her hands gripped tighter around his shirt, her eyes fluttering closed in awe at the tenderness he gave. At the warmth he gave. At the tingles he sent rushing through every nerve in her body.
Their lips melted and melded together, fitting as two perfect puzzle pieces. Connecting to their other half.
As moments passed, his grip against her tightened, bringing her closer into his body, begging for her to remain close, to remain attached to him. Holding her as if he would never let go. Cradling her in his arms, holding his entire world, and refusing to let her slip away from him.
Just as their lips parted, just as their souls broke apart, Hazel let herself curl into his neck.
"Please don't leave me." He whispered, his lips brushing against the top head as she slipped under his chin, revelling in his warmth and comfort. The love he emitted through his clothes. Through his voice. Through his hands.
"I won't."
He chuckled. "That's all I've ever wanted to hear."