A.N: HEEllloooo all! I am excited because of a tangential thing: I was doing NaNo this year as some of you may know in the prep for a new Harry Potter fanfic. Anyways! I completed NaNoWriMo yesterday and I'm very proud of myself! So with the spirit of that pride and excitement I give you a very introspective and somewhat broody chapter. Lol.

I hope you like it and if you would, I'd LOVE to hear your thoughts on it :D

NINE

a howling,

Naima sat at her laptop, Word open and a blank page in front of her where the beginnings of something should have been. But instead of writing anything down, she was contemplating her life. Sometimes that was useful. Today it was not.

She had managed to put the thoughts off for a few days but as she stared at her blank document, everything rushed to the surface. She almost rolled her eyes at her inability to ignore uncomfortable situations, but there was no point.

She'd never been able to let things lie for long and that wasn't going to change just because she'd crossed an ocean.

Naima sighed but pushed herself back from the laptop. She wasn't sure what had come over her that day. Those words - the ones she'd whispered to Sam whilst they'd sat in the cave - that had been the first time Naima had ever uttered them out loud.

She swallowed, trying to press down the guilt that those thoughts were even in her head. She did love her dad. And she'd not known that you could feel hate and love for the same person until she'd sat there in the cave thinking about it.

Logically she knew it could happen. People could feel more than one strong, conflicting, emotion at the same time – and they did every day. But the ambivalence was difficult to describe and even harder to understand.

She loved her dad, but she couldn't deny that there were also such strong feelings of disappointment and anger that it translated so well into hate.

So, maybe it wasn't hate?

The cave had been cold - just a bit colder than she was - but that hadn't mattered because Sam had exuded so much heat that she felt warm. Safe. And in retrospect, maybe that was why she had told him.

She hadn't felt warm or safe in such a long time and so she'd let herself go. And then he had started speaking about his grandad. She watched him as he spoke, and thought that Sam seemed very much trapped in the story he was telling. He had truly felt hurt and betrayal and something about it caught in her throat. And then he'd stopped speaking.

There was a moment when the only thing she could hear was the pounding of her heart in her chest and in her temple, the sound of their breathing, the waves rolling off the sides - or maybe the back - of the cave and the wind blowing just outside and it had overwhelmed her.

It was too loud and yet too quiet.

Something about the combination and his warmth just broke her down and she had to say it - say something. Naima hadn't expected for those words to come out, but they had.

He hadn't said anything in response. Looking back, that wasn't so surprising but it had forced her to choose whether she wanted to elaborate or stay in the unsilent silence.

She didn't look up, but she suspected he was looking at her. Not directly because somehow, he knew that would have been too confronting, but maybe from the corner of his eye. Like he was watching over her.

She appreciated it in the same way that she hated how he affected her. His own silent expectation had filtered through her wariness and suddenly, it held so much over her in only a few short months.

Naima didn't know herself to be a particularly open person; most of her time at school had been spent alone because she wasn't able to deal with the pettiness or the bitchiness of girls and before she had taken off her scarf there had been no point in making friends with boys. She actually hadn't known how.

So, when she found herself laughing along with Sam's jokes or not feeling odd or uncomfortable being with him in his truck as they went to pick up supplies or find a piece of furniture, it was odd but pleasant.

She had felt like she could just be herself around him rather than a big sister, or a perfect daughter, or a grieving and delicate girl.

It was easy.

But somewhere along the way, without her knowing, that comfortable friendship had slid into something more. She felt an intimacy with Sam that she hadn't experienced with anyone else.

But it wasn't romantic. That much she knew for sure. It was something else and the only thing she could compare it to was when her mum was alive.

The relationship they'd had had always been one others were jealous of; her mother was her confidant, her friend and more than that, she had given Naima space to explore, to get things wrong, to question. It was starkly contrasted with her dad's modus operandi and so it was appreciated all the more.

That feeling that had come over her that day with Sam had felt like that.

Trust.

The word came to her sluggishly but once she had it, she knew it was true. With a start, Naima realised she trusted the man and it was a jarring feeling.

An alarm went off on her phone, breaking her out of her thoughts and signalling to Naima that her food was ready. She turned it off and went to the kitchen to take out the pizza from the oven.

Her mouth started to water as the smell of melted cheese permeated the air and for the moment, that jarring revelation was put to the side. Her stomach grumbled and she smiled to herself.

Just as she cut up the pizza the front door opened and Eve called out. "I'm in the kitchen," Naima mumbled through the pizza. Eve was in the kitchen soon enough and dropped her bag down by the leg of a chair.

"Ooh - pizza," she said as she reached for a slice.

Naima slapped her hand away. "Make your own."

"But you have so much!"

"'Cause I'm hungry!"

Eve pouted and ended up taking a slice anyway. Naima huffed but allowed her sister to take the first, and then eventually the second slice.

There was more to think about though, she knew that. But she just…she needed to sleep on it. Let her mind do all the heavy lifting when she slept. That was what it was for, right?

For now, she needed to get some words down on the page. Harish was understanding, but there was only so much time allotted to grieving, moving girls when there were contracted books to write.

Maybe pizza wasn't the best option then, seeing as in t-20 minutes she was going to start feeling very sleepy. Instead, she tried to combat it. Turning to Eve, she smiled. "How was your day?"

A.N: Told you it was a baby chapter. The next one will be up on Sunday and it's...3.3k. Inspiration struck with that one I guess.

See you then!