[9 Days Home]
The conversation drifted from Ethan's intensity to lighter, more ridiculous memories. Ellie spent the next hour regaling Annie with stories of Riley's most spectacular failures, including a "Formal Flamingo" phase in middle school that actually involved a DIY costume and a very confused chemistry teacher.
Annie found herself sinking deeper into the pillows, her muscles finally uncoiling. The weight of the last few weeks hadn't disappeared, but with Ellie there, it felt like she was sharing the load.
"You know," Annie murmured, her voice thick with impending sleep, "I forgot what it felt like to just... talk about nothing."
"Nothing is underrated," Ellie whispered back. She had turned off the main bedside lamp, leaving only a small, warm nightlight plugged into the wall. "Everyone wants to talk about 'the situation' or 'the future.' No one ever asks about the important stuff, like why the movie Cats was allowed to happen."
Annie let out a sleepy, melodic hum of agreement. Her eyes fluttered shut, the dark ink stains on her fingertips tucked safely under the duvet. "Thanks for staying, El."
"Always, Annie. Go to sleep."
Within twenty minutes, the rhythm of the room changed. The frantic energy of the evening settled into the slow, synchronized breathing of two friends lost to exhaustion. Ellie's phone lay forgotten on the floor, and the only sound was the distant, muffled sigh of the wind against the glass.
Across the narrow expanse of the yard, the lights in the neighboring house were entirely extinguished, except for one.
Ethan stood in the darkness of his bedroom, his tall frame a silhouette against the pale moonlight spilling through the panes. He wasn't holding a phone; he wasn't even moving. He just stood there, a glass of water forgotten on his desk, his gaze fixed on the warm, amber glow of Annie's window.
He had watched the light dim earlier. He'd seen the flickering shadows of their silhouettes, Ellie's animated gestures and Annie's smaller, more hesitant movements- until they finally stilled.
He knew he was being "high-voltage," as Riley would put it. He knew his protectiveness bordered on the obsessive. But seeing that soft light in her room felt like watching a flickering candle in a storm. He felt an instinctive, bone-deep need to cup his hands around it to keep the wind from blowing it out.
He saw a slight movement in Annie's room as one of them moved in their sleep- and he instinctively stepped back an inch, fading further into his own shadows. He didn't want to be caught. He didn't want to be the "creep" next door. He just needed to know that the silence he had promised her was actually holding.
He watched for another five minutes, his jaw tight, his expression unreadable to anyone but himself.
Annie thought he didn't know the "broken" version of her. She didn't realize that to Ethan, there was no broken or unbroken- there was just her. And he would wait through a thousand nights of silence just to hear her laugh like he'd heard through the open window an hour ago. The girls conversation tugging a small smile to his face as he had heard it all.
Satisfied that the house was quiet and the "turtle" was nowhere in sight, Ethan finally turned away from the glass. He didn't turn on his light. He moved through the dark with the ease of someone who had spent a long time learning how to exist in it.
~*~*~*~*
[9 Days Home]
Days have passed, and soon school was here. Kyson had left just early enough so he didn't have to drive Annie, her father had been at work for hours, her step-mother anywheres but home.
Annie scrambled to get herself ready, wearing a light patchwork dress, the sleeves covering her sc@rs and plain black flats. Her black hair was thrown into a messy- but nice looking bun.
As she packed her bag for school she heard the familiar tap on her window. Turning her gaze towards Ethan's window, she opened it swiftly.
"I noticed Kyson's car gone, you need a drive?" He asked sweetly. Annie couldnt help but let her eyes rake over his appearance, some weathered looking black jeans, a white shirt and a black light leather jacket. Annie gasped lightly before shaking her thoughts from her head.
"Yes please," she smiled gratefully, "thank you, I appreciate it."
"Anytime Doll, it can be a daily thing if you'd like," he winked, "I'll be out in 5, whenever you're ready you can grace me with your presence."
Annie felt a blush creep onto her cheeks as she looked away to finish packing her bag
The gravel crunched under Annie's flats as she hurried to Ethan's idling truck. When she climbed into the passenger seat, the scent of cedar and old leather- his scent, wrapped around her like a physical greeting.
Ethan reached over, his hand hovering near her shoulder before he settled for a playful flick of her bun. "You look nice, Annie. That dress is... it's you."
"Thank you," she murmured, her cheeks still holding that stubborn pink hue. "I'm sorry I'm running a bit behind. Kyson... I didn't expect him to leave that early."
Ethan shifted the truck into gear, his jaw tightening for a brief second- a flash of that signature stubborn protectiveness, before he softened his expression for her.
"Forget him. You're with the better driver anyway. Plus, I have better snacks."
He nudged a small bag of her favorite dried mangoes sitting in the center console. Annie felt a pang of warmth in her chest. He remembered.
The drive was quiet for a moment, the comfortable kind of silence that only comes with people who truly know each other. As they passed the turn-off passed the cemetery, Annie's gaze drifted to the window, her smile faltering just a fraction. The weight of her mother's absence was a shadow that never quite left, especially on big days like the start of a new school year.
Ethan noticed. He didn't push, and he didn't try to fill the air with empty "it'll be okay" platitudes. Instead, he reached out and gave her hand a brief, firm squeeze before returning his grip to the steering wheel.
"Hey," he said softly, his voice losing its usual playful edge. "We're just taking it one class at a time, alright? If the day gets too loud, you just text me. I'll be there in two minutes flat."
Annie looked at him, her heart aching in a way that felt like healing. "I know you would. Thank you, Ethan. For everything."
"Anytime, BabyDoll," he said, the flirty spark returning to his eyes, though his tone remained deeply respectful. "I mean it. I'm not going anywhere."
As the school building came into view, the knot of anxiety in Annie's stomach loosened. She wasn't ready for everything he might want to give her, but sitting here in the quiet of his truck, she felt safe enough to just... be.