Four Years

Summer: Home

They had to be close to Izzy's house, now. He slowed the car, and the road seemed skinnier than the main country ways. Huge fields dominated either side of the road, but yielded to grass as they moved down the drive.

That somber mood still filled the car, and Amy didn't want it hanging over them when she met his parents. She leaped on the opportunity to ask questions instead of answering them, to shelf her difficult thoughts for later consideration. "You don't own these farms, do you?"

"No. We're just past this one."

"Do you ever pet the farm animals?"

Izzy grinned. "Ah, no. I do have the privilege of smelling them on occasion, when the wind shifts in summer."

The flat lawn stretched on, until a forest appeared in the distance, a dense wall of trees. "How much land do you have?"

"Four acres, roughly?"

Amy leaned forward to better see the building appearing in the distance. It was a massive Victorian Gothic. There were surely specific architectural words for the features, but all Amy knew was that it had a turret, a multitude of windows of various shapes and sizes, a porch with decorative posts and rails, and a beautiful stairway to the front door. The siding was a trendy light gray, but the detailing was white. Given its size, grandeur, and Gothic flavor, it should have been intimidating. But the light color scheme and the potted and hanging plants on the porch were inviting, playful.

Izzy pulled into a circular driveway and parked. Amy rose from the car and clasped her hands, enchanted. "It's so beautiful! Do you really live here?"

She turned at the sound of Izzy closing the trunk. "Well, I haven't taken you to a stranger's home." Grinning, he lowered her suitcase to the ground and pulled out the handle. "Do you mind if I bring the rest of your things in later? My parents are eager to meet you."

That statement knocked Amy out of a state of wonder like a slap. "O-oh. Sure."

Izzy stepped closer, staring at her face. After a pause, he hazarded, "You're nervous?"

Amy shook her head, but her heart pulsed like thunder, each beat shortening, suggesting that the storm was coming nearer. Her brow furrowed as she rubbed a palm over her chest. "Why am I so nervous?"

"There's no need," Izzy murmured. "I've told you, you're already liked and wanted here."

Somehow, her heart managed to freak out even more- but now, a warm, electric feeling joined the crashing and thumping. She had no clue what was going on with her face, but Izzy was smiling, then rising to his toes, and then her eyes were shut and his mouth was on hers, briefly, sweetly.

When he drew back, Amy couldn't hear the cacophony of her organs anymore; just a muted ringing. He offered his arm, and she took it, allowing him to lead her towards the house.

The porch stairs were old, but lovely, the railings carved and flawlessly painted. "How does your family keep this house in such good shape?" she marveled.

"It's my mother's doing," Izzy replied. "She does much of the maintenance herself, and arranges what she can't do."

"Wow! Really? That takes a lot of skill!"

"It does."

Despite Izzy's assurances of her welcome, Amy felt out of place. Her family just barely clung to a middle class lifestyle- and she suspected they managed that by racking up debt. It was obvious that, despite Izzy's frugalness and desire to earn and save money, his parents were well off.

Izzy knocked on the front door, and it opened soon after, revealing a beautiful woman with a heart-shaped face, light brown hair, and warm, dark eyes. Despite her enormous smile, very few lines appeared around her mouth and eyes. Amy stared, drawn in by her beauty and open expression, unaware of returning her smile.

"Amy, it's so wonderful to meet you! Welcome! Please, come in!"

Bemused, Amy stepped into the house... And was folded into a hug. "I'm Yeva, Izzy's mother." Yeva blinked, then turned to the door, where Izzy idled. Her playful grin somehow made her look even younger. "Ah, right. Welcome home, Izzy."

"Thanks," he said dryly, but with a smile. Footsteps sounded, accompanied by an occasional creak from the floor. Amy looked down the hallway off the foyer and saw a mild-looking man approaching.

"This is my husband, Sam," Yeva said. "Sam, meet Amy."

"Glad to," Sam said. Izzy's father was nondescript, with black hair, black eyes, and thick glasses. He somehow emanated the air of an office worker. He extended a hand to Amy, and she placed hers in his. Sam wrapped his other hand around hers and gently raised and lowered it in a single shake.

"It's a pleasure," he said, and though his features bordered on plain, his smile was kind.

"Me, too. I mean- Nice to meet you. Um- I mean, thanks for having me? I, I mean- I'm happy to be here."

When she finally managed to stop talking, Amy winced and stepped back, retreating towards Izzy. He took her hand and said, "Amy's been eager to meet you. I suspect she's rather nervous."

Amy's head whipped towards the traitor beside her. "Izzy!"

"Now, now." Despite the gentle scold, Yeva smiled. "Please, don't be nervous. We want you to feel at home here, Amy."

Inexplicable heat rushed to Amy's face. "T-thank you. Your home is gorgeous."

It seemed impossible for Yeva to look more pleased, but somehow, she managed it. "Thank you! We put a lot into it. But let's come in and be comfortable."

Izzy removed his shoes and placed them on a mat waiting by the door. Amy copied him, then followed his parents into the house. At a glance, it seemed to consist of many rooms, some off a main hallway, others leading directly into one another. And though the house itself and the details were old-fashioned, the color choices and furnishings were modern and visually light, removing any heavy or foreboding vibes from the old structure, emphasizing the charming ones.

Yeva stopped in what appeared to be a parlor, a word Amy had never used to describe a room in a house, but what else applied? It featured a sofa, a few armchairs, and a loveseat, arranged for conversation around a coffee table. One wall was overtaken by a fireplace, the focal point of the room. Another was comprised of several tall windows, with two dainty chairs in front of the glass, sharing a circular end table between them. A thick, cushy rug softened their footfalls over the hardwood floor beneath. Pictures decorated the walls, but Amy sat on the loveseat with Izzy instead of taking a closer look. His parents sat on the nearest armchairs.

There was a tray on the coffee table, bearing a white pitcher and a platter of chocolate chip cookies. Amy's stomach growled, and she recalled that she hadn't eaten much of her dinner. "They smell amazing," Amy said. How rude would it be to just... just grab the platter and dive in?

Yeva smiled. "I could only make simple things tonight, but please, let me know what you like. Tomorrow, I'll cook whatever you want for dinner and dessert."

Amy grabbed Izzy's hand, an anchor in the sudden storm of confused emotions. "Oh- I, um, I'm sorry this was all so sudden-"

Sam leaned forward, smiling so soothingly that Amy calmed a touch. "Not at all. We're happy to have you. And please, forgive my wife; she loves spoiling guests, and we've been looking forward to meeting you." He turned to Yeva and grinned, shaking his head. "But I thought we agreed that I was taking us out to whatever restaurant Amy picked tomorrow, and you'd cook the next day."

"Oh?" Yeva moved to the edge of her seat and poured light red liquid from the pitcher into the four cups on the coffee table. No argument was forthcoming, but the besotted expression on Sam's face hinted that none was needed. Clearly, Yeva got what Yeva wanted from Sam, an arrangement that suited everyone.

"It doesn't matter what we do on what day," Sam said. "But if you need more time to prepare, take it."

"Oh, um!" Amy latched a lock of hair behind her ear, growing increasingly fidgety. "Um, please, don't put yourself through any trouble- You've already done so much for me-"

"My parents love guests," Izzy said. "And I'm afraid that, other than Joe, I haven't made many contributions to the pool."

Yeva stood and handed Amy and Izzy a glass of fruit punch. Amy accepted with thanks, then took a sip. It was far better than any she had tried before, sweet with a tang that had to be pineapple. "This is really good!"

"I'm glad you like it! It may seem like we're in the middle of nowhere, but there are farms, dairy farms, orchards, produce stands, and butchers all over. It takes some driving to get to restaurants, but if you do most of your cooking at home, you're set."

"Youmade this," Amy said. "That's amazing!"

Yeva laughed, and Izzy and Sam grinned. "It's just squeezing some fruit," she said. "I'm more interested in what you think of the cookies."

"I'm interested in them, too." Invited at last, Amy selected a cookie and took an eager bite... Then hastened to hold back a moan. The edges were crisp, but the inside was soft, almost gooey. And, while it was sweet, there was a lovely bitterness to balance the sugar.

"This is amazing. Are the chips dark chocolate?"

Yeva nodded. "I personally find even semi-sweet to be too much."

Amy dropped her gaze from Yeva's smile to the platter. Everything she knew about cooking came from Matt, who was too busy doing chores on top of his band and schoolwork to bake or cook anything fancy. Actually, most of her practical household knowledge came from Matt, like doing laundry and basic cleaning.

If she wanted a comprehensive picture of how to take care of herself as an independent adult- a change that was fast approaching- then she needed help. "Um... It's probably a lot to ask, but... Could you teach me?"

Yeva almost rocked in her chair, beaming. "Really? I've been trying for years to get Sam and Izzy interested in cooking."

"But you do it so well, darling," Sam said. Yeva flapped a hand.

"Hush, dear. Everyone should know how to cook. Izzy, this is always your home, but what will you do if you need to cook for yourself? You can't eat sandwiches and salad for every meal."

Amy considered pointing out that Izzy would happily live off assembled food, but decided against throwing him under the bus... Barely. "You like to cook?" she asked, moving the attention away from Izzy.

The men laughed, and Amy blinked. "Hush," Yeva scolded once more. "Yes, I love it. I write cookbooks, critique restaurants, and run a cooking blog."

Amy hoped her eyes weren't bulging. She glanced at Izzy, half amazed, half accusing. He spoke of his mother fondly, but had failed to explain that she was basically superwoman. "That's amazing!"

Yeva covered her mouth with her hand, and Amy realized that she had already called her amazing a few times. Nerves spiked, and she was ridiculously tempted to explain that she did, in fact, know other words. Happily, Yeva prevented this by saying, "Thank you, but we'd love to hear about you. Izzy told us about your bat research in Ohio. How was that?"

Amy hesitated. She looked at Izzy for support, and he squeezed her hand. "Oh- Well- You probably don't want to hear about… It's kind of dull."

Sam's eyebrows knit. "Dull? Izzy made it sound so interesting."

Amy's head whipped from Sam back to Izzy. "I- Really?"

Faint color rose to his cheeks. "You'd provide much more entertaining narration, I'm sure."

Amy gazed at the Williams, waiting for her to speak. The pause was stretching beyond what might be expected for her to organize her thoughts, but what could she do? She waited for someone to bring something else up, or leave the room, or- or something.

"Maybe you could start with why the local legislature needed a report on the bats?" Izzy suggested. "Or maybe that abandoned house in the woods, where the bats roost? It looked like it was built in the same style as ours."

"Oh! Um…" Amy rubbed the back of her neck. Would the Williams be annoyed if she implied that they might not know something? "Do… Do you know what white-nose syndrome is?"

"Can't say I do," Sam replied. "What's that?"

Amy stared at her knees as she explained, providing background for why the bats needed to be studied. Slowly, she grew aware that the Williams were coaxing her, encouraging her with questions, and that Izzy was guiding her to expand on things she glossed over. She tried not to be wary, but she was so nervous.

Still, no one said anything unkind, or even hinted at boredom. When Izzy said, "You haven't mentioned Angela," Amy slapped her forehead.

"Angela!" she cried. She missed Izzy's grin as she launched into a gossipy tirade, regaining her typical animation. It was an Amy story at last, and soon, Izzy's parents were engaged, now laughing, now tsking, always responding with interest.

Caught up in the pleasure of story-telling, Amy forgot her anxiety.

XXX

Amy followed the Williams up the foyer staircase, carrying her guitar. Izzy had her suitcase, Sam had her bursting backpack, and Yeva had her lock box. It was nice of everyone to carry something of hers, she knew- she and Izzy had stumbled out of her house loaded with all of her things- but somehow… Somehow, she felt itchy. She wanted to apologize, but wasn't sure what for.

The stairs opened to a wide hallway, with one door on either wall. The end of the hall opposite the stairs led to a trio of windows, overlooking fields in the distance. The other end housed a third door. Izzy moved towards a door, but paused when Yeva continued up the next flight of stairs. Amy blinked- the house had a third floor?

Yeva's smile was enormous, so enthusiastic that Amy smiled back, despite feeling confused, and more than a little out of place. "The renovations are finally finished! I thought we could put Amy up in the new suite."

"Oh, really? Congratulations." To Amy, Izzy added, "My parents have been working on the top floor for years."

The guitar case slid in Amy's awkward hold. "Oh- Um- Congratulations!"

Yeva made a beckoning motion. "Come have a look!" Dazed, Amy walked on, gripping the stair handrail hard. It was obvious that the house was large from the outside, but the scope of it was starting to sink in. Izzy hadn't struck her as coming from a wealthy family, not with his beater car that he bought himself and his mindfulness towards saving and investing. But then- She suddenly realized that most college kids didn't have any money to invest, even if they had jobs.

Izzy didn't prattle about money and rich parents the way Angela had… But this house was speaking for itself.

Amy swallowed hard, suddenly faced with a problem she hadn't anticipated: class difference. Would Izzy's parents care that she had student debt? That they were carrying most of what she owned right now?

But Yeva led on, clearly excited to show a new part of her home. Amy plastered on a grin, hoping it didn't look as brittle as it felt. Trembling legs worked the stairs, turned at the landing, then climbed the next flight.

Amy paused at the top, disoriented. For some reason, she had expected a single bedroom up here. Instead, she found a large hallway, perpendicular to the stairs, that yielded to a wide opening on one side and a wall with a door on the other. Her head tipped back to take in the high walls, and she recalled the house exterior, with its variety of high-pitched roofs.

The opening led to a sweet little sitting room dominated by a window-filled alcove. It had a small fireplace with a white mantel surrounded by built-in bookcases on either side, intricate crown molding, and cozy-looking seating.

Amy gently placed her guitar case on the hardwood floor. "It's beautiful!"

Yeva beamed. "Thank you! It's not as open as I would have liked, but I think the suite feels cozy."

"Suite?" Izzy echoed.

Yeva grinned. Amy noticed Sam watching his wife, looking besotted, and felt a twinge. She had never seen her father looking at her mother- or anyone, for that matter- like that.

"Yes, suite. There's a bedroom, a bath, a kitchen, this living area, and an office."

Izzy blinked. "I had no idea." Amy sensed his follow-up question, which was why his parents needed an additional suite, but Izzy didn't ask. Instead, he and Sam placed their loads by Amy's guitar and followed Yeva through the rectangular opening that led to a white, airy eat-in kitchen.

Again, Yeva had leaned into a small, cozy space. The appliances and counters were against the wall, furthest from the living area. An island with stools served as both prep space and a table. Sky lights flooded the space with sunshine, fading as the long summer day yielded at last.

French doors separated the kitchen from the next room, which turned out to be the office. Like the other rooms, it had high ceilings and white crown molding. The walls were a calming blue-gray, and a beautiful white pendant light dominated the space. It was empty, down to the built-in bookcases.

"It's a beautiful color," Amy said, not knowing what else to say. Unlike the other rooms, which all led into one another, this one had a normal door. Yeva opened it, and Amy stopped dead, causing a collision with Izzy.

An enormous round window dominated the large bedroom, but the triangular ceiling with its white beams also drew the eye. The walls were a soft lilac that seemed to warm the natural light. The furnishings were simple, in natural wood colors, so that the attention remained on the features of the space, where it belonged.

Amy forgot to compliment Yeva's work. She just stood in the doorway, stunned, staring at the setting sun beyond the window. When Izzy prodded her shoulder, she entered the room, and was tempted to ask permission first. She stepped onto a cushy white rug, covering the hardwood. "Wow," she breathed.

Izzy tapped his chin as he gazed about the room. "I'll never know how you design spaces so well."

"I had a lot of help," Yeva said, laughing. "But thank you. Amy, it's a bit removed from the rest of the house, but would you like to stay here?"

Amy's speaking pitch leaped almost an octave. "Here? Um- Are you, are you sure?"

"Of course." Despite his reassurance, the grin on Sam's face hinted that he understood where Amy was coming from. "We made this suite for guests."

That vertical line appeared between Izzy's pressed eyebrows, suggesting that he very much wanted to ask questions. Instead, he said, "Let me bring your things in."

"Good idea," Sam said. He left through a door that led into the hallway by the stairs, and Izzy followed.

"You came in on the train today, right?" Yeva asked. "You must be tired. We'll say goodnight. The bathroom is here. There's a water pitcher in the fridge, and snacks in the kitchen. Please let us know if you need anything."

"O-okay?" Amy squeaked. "T-thank you so much?"

Yeva examined her face, then reached up to gently cup her shoulder. "Please, relax," she murmured. "We really are so happy to have you here."

Amy babbled something, some kind of gratitude-slash-good night. Mercifully, Yeva smiled and left, freeing Amy to wobble to the bed and sit. Izzy and Sam returned briefly to drop off her things. Izzy explained that he wanted to speak with his parents, so she should settle in. Amy nodded like a bobblehead and watched him leave. When he shut the door to the hall, she flopped, full-body, onto the bed, staring at the beams overhead.

She was too dazed to even think.

XXX

Izzy followed his parents down the stairs. When they reached the second story, he said, "Dad? Mom? Can I speak with you?"

They paused, looked at him, and then looked at each other. Izzy waited, long accustomed to his parents communicating with just their faces. After Sam's subtle nod, Yeva said, "Let's talk in the parlor. I'll make tea."

Izzy knew better than to point out that he didn't need tea, not after the fruit punch and cookies. If Yeva was making tea, Yeva was making tea, and he would drink it with compliments.

Before long, the Williams were in the parlor again, sipping from teacups. Izzy didn't know how to begin, how to verbalize a confused discomfort that he didn't understand. "The suite is incredible," he said at last. At least he knew what had caused this feeling, even if he couldn't grasp why.

"The contractors did amazing work," Yeva said.

Izzy nodded and stared at the light brown liquid in his cup. "May I ask why you made an entire suite?"

"Ah." Sam released a breath and relaxed, looking relieved. "It's mostly because we had the space, and Yeva had a vision for it."

"You've been working on it for years," Izzy said. "So… I suppose it's not because of… recent events?"

If his parents redid an entire floor because there were negative memories tied to his bedroom… Izzy wouldn't be able to handle the guilt. Logically, he knew that was unlikely, since the construction had been ongoing for so long. But, just in case, he had to ask.

"Izzy," Yeva sighed. "No. To be honest… We've always known that you like your space. So, around when you started high school, we decided to turn the top floor into a suite, in case you wanted to live here during and after college. And, if you didn't, we'd have a nice place for you and any other visitors to stay."

Izzy carefully lowered his teacup to the saucer stationed on the coffee table. "You'd want me to live here as an adult?"

"It's your choice," Sam said. "We understand if you'd rather move out. But we figured that you're likely to work from home on the computer some day, so location might not matter for you- and frankly, we'd like your company."

"But- Our internet connection won't support that."

Yeva clapped. "That's just the thing! I told you they've just finished building an agricultural and botany school nearby. The campus needs fiber-optic internet, so we'll be able to run cables here!"

Izzy was not the excitable type, but those words sent jolts over his system. He felt like a pinball machine, shaking, lighting up, making loud, obnoxious noises. "Really?!" he squeaked. He colored when both parents broke into laughter.

"Thought you'd like that!" Yeva said. "Again, there's no pressure, and obviously, you don't have to make any decisions anytime soon. But you're welcome to move from your bedroom to the suite- and to stay there with Amy."

"I, I don't know what to say," Izzy admitted. "Thank you. I don't know where I'll be in a few years, but I truly appreciate the option."

"Whatever you want to do, this is your home- always."

Izzy swallowed hard. He knew his parents loved him. How could he not? They took every opportunity to show it, and then invented more. He hadn't given much thought to what he would do after graduating, beyond assuming that he'd work as a programmer. If he had a reliable internet connection, then there was no reason he couldn't live with his parents…

Unless Amy didn't want to, or couldn't find a job in her field within commuting distance.

Izzy twitched, then dropped that thought. It was far too early to assume that kind of thing, and yet… Well, clearly the idea was there. And speaking of Amy…

"Thank you. But, if you don't mind my changing the subject- How did you convince Mr. Donahue to let Amy stay with us?"

The warmth drained from Yeva's face. She slumped against Sam on the love seat. "I know it may seem like I'm at home all the time, but I'm in contact with people constantly on the phone and online for my work. I know food, not psychology, but… At some point, you start to recognize certain… personality types."

Sam wound an arm around Yeva's shoulders, and she held his free hand with both of hers. "It was obvious that Mr. Donahue is the type that wants to be flattered. I talked him up as much as I could."

"You pieced that together so quickly?"

"It… wasn't hard. From what you said when you called me, I knew something had to be off, so I was on the alert. But, I have to ask… Amy seems so uncomfortable. Is she alright?"

Izzy grabbed the warm teacup, searching for comfort. "It's… difficult to explain. Spending time with her parents was just… A constant barrage. Little jabs, hurtful words…" He stared, helpless, at his parents. "I didn't know what to say, how to act. I should have done something, but…"

"You did," Sam said. "You took her here."

"That's true," Izzy murmured. "But I have to thank you for that. Thank you for welcoming her so warmly. It- It means a lot to me."

"We're so happy to meet her! But… I do hope she'll relax."

"I'm sure she will," Izzy sighed. "Please, give her time, and don't take it personally. She likely feels awkward because you're being so kind… And I'm wondering if the house itself is intimidating her."

"I noticed that," Sam said. "Her eyes were wide as silver dollars when she saw the suite."

"Ah…" Yeva crossed her arms and tipped her head. "I understand feeling out of her element, but… It worries me when you say that she doesn't know how to respond to kindness. Maybe you could tell us more later, if you're comfortable with that?"

Sensing that the meeting was closing, Izzy downed the rest of his tea and stood. "Yes, I think it's best if I return upstairs. Thank you again for…" He paused to clear the sudden obstruction from his throat. "For everything."

"Good night," Yeva said. "Love you so."

"I, um- You too." As he made a swift exit, Izzy ruefully reflected that he wasn't much better at dealing with his parents' generosity than Amy.

XXX

Izzy's alarm sounded, a soft buzz that woke him without disturbing Amy. He turned it off, then slowly shifted towards her. Her face was relaxed, blank with sleep, an oddity from someone so expressive. Long, dark hair surrounded her, spread over the pillow and sheets.

He stared, unsure how to behave, or how to interpret what he was feeling. They had shared beds before, but those were dorm singles. This… this was different.

As far as Izzy could tell, they slept comfortably. There were no kinks in his back from old, lumpy mattresses or odd sleeping angles, necessitated by two bodies shoved into a space meant for one. He didn't have assignments or classes, since the summer semester was over. He still worked for Dr. Edwards, but not on weekends.

There was nothing to do today but be with Amy and his parents, in a comfortable, private environment.

He exhaled carefully, as if it might wake her, or disturb some new, fragile sensation. Pinkish dawn light poured through the circular window in a halo, warming and diffusing against the lilac walls. He almost wondered if he was still dreaming, which could account for this sentimental, affected mood.

He felt- secure. At ease. Maybe even… softened. He listened to Amy breathe, noticed the warmth of her beneath the covers. Tenderness rose, and the bite of discomfort that so often pushed against his rising vulnerability towards her never countered.

And, suddenly, he understood what his mother said when she dropped him off at the train station after he upset Amy over the summer: We want home to be a safe place for you. The various annoyances of dorms, such as public showers, lack of privacy, impersonal surroundings, forced proximity to annoying fellow students, and unpalatable cafeteria food made campus life difficult- and that didn't even touch on the workload. It was an ideal place to meet people, but not for fostering intimate relationships- at least, not for reserved people.

But here, now, almost everything he could want was inside this house. Perhaps people weren't meant to shelter in their safe place forever, but it felt damnably good to have one, especially after feeling uneasy in his own bedroom for so long.

And, suddenly, it struck Izzy that Amy didn't have a sanctuary, and probably never had. She had substituted by treating Tai and Matt as security blankets, but that wasn't viable longterm- and it had already caused problems between them. And that feeling of being unmoored, of having no private space that was yours…

Izzy slid out of bed, put a shirt over the undershirt he had slept in, and crept out of the room. His parents would be awake, but Amy was likely to sleep for a while. He wanted to talk to them, to shift into his day and out of these strange sensations.

It wasn't everyday that you realized you wanted to contribute to someone's comfort- to someone's sense of home.

XXX

Amy woke, blinking in a room washed with soft morning light. She stretched in white sheets, which she suspected were linen- but she couldn't be sure, having never touched any.

Slowly, uncertainly, Amy sat up. Izzy was no longer beside her, which she knew to expect. He woke early, and was usually programming in the morning when they shared a bed at the dorm. She groped for her phone on the nightstand and texted him.

Amy's bare feet sank into a fluffy rug as she rose. She made the bed, since it seemed sacrilegious to mar the beautiful room, then went to the bathroom to freshen up. Like the rest of the suite, it was ridiculously beautiful. It featured a round stained glass window stationed by a claw foot tub and a huge shower with more nozzles and knobs than she knew what to do with.

Amy settled in one of the two chairs stationed by the round window in the bedroom, looking out over a forest. She felt odd, surreal, maybe even a little lost. Was she a princess in a remote tower, or a madwoman in an attic? There was nothing remotely sinister about the third floor suite, and yet…

Well, she couldn't shake the feeling that she didn't belong, or that something bad would happen. Had to. Surely, in real life, people weren't whisked away from their problems to a place as nice as this.

The door connecting the bedroom to the stairwell hallway opened, and Izzy entered, carrying two mugs. Amy swallowed, struggling against a thousand emotions that resolved into vague anxiety. She loved seeing him after waking, with his bed clothes and rumpled hair. It was intimate and cute, but somehow, right now, it didn't feel familiar. The ephemeral lighting transformed him into a figure from a dream, not at all the grounded young man she knew.

He sat on the free chair and placed the mugs on the circular side table between them. "Mom made coffee. I'm afraid I don't know how you take it, but you like sweets, so she added caramel."

"I've never had coffee." Izzy's thick eyebrows bounced, and Amy grinned. "Is that so strange?"

"I suppose not. It's not as if we have easy access on campus, outside of the overpriced library cafes. I hope you like it." His eyes fluttered shut as he took a sip from his mug, and Amy watched, enamored with his obvious pleasure.

She lifted her cup, which smelled heavenly- much better than the scent she associated with the coffee her mother made. The first taste was bitter, but a soft sweetness danced below it. Intrigued, she took another sip. "It tastes… complex?"

"Mom has been experimenting with bean blends and brewing methods for years." Izzy's grin, combined with his ruffled hair and the trace of sleepiness in his eyes, kicked Amy's pulse far more than the caffeine. "Frankly, I'm ruined for coffee elsewhere... Although I'll drink it for the caffeine, if needed."

Amy tried to move closer, and wished that Yeva had chosen a love seat instead of two separate chairs. She stared through the window at the endless treetops. "Um… Thank you again for… everything."

"You're welcome, but… I can't help noticing that you're uncomfortable."

Amy's shoulders inched up. "I'm sorry," she said quickly. "You're all so kind. It's just…"

"The house," Izzy supplied. "I know. I've felt that way, too, and I live here."

Amy tore her eyes away from the view to stare at her boyfriend. "But- it's your home?"

"Mm." He took another sip, but this time, his expression remained neutral. "I suppose it's because I'm adopted. I can't help feeling that my parents shouldn't have to spend money on me, and I've tried to pay for myself as much as I can. Regardless, they always find ways to go above and beyond."

"Um- I know I just met them, but I don't think they'd want you to feel that way."

The heaviness cleared from Izzy's face as he smiled with a tenderness Amy couldn't explain. "I know they don't. I'm beginning to understand them more, I think- that they want to care for me because they love me, and they don't see it as a burden. They don't want you to feel indebted or uncomfortable, either- and neither do I."

Amy felt her face heating, and her gaze shifted abruptly from his face to her cup. "They, they seem so… nice."

"They are, truly. I promise, all they want is for you to feel at home, and to get to know you."

Amy knew she should respond, but no words came to mind. All she knew was that she felt vulnerable, raw, and a little sad- and didn't really understand why. "It's so nice here," she said at last. "I'm surprised you opted to live on campus."

"It was tempting to stay here," Izzy admitted. "But our internet connection wouldn't have reliably supported remote learning. Ah- But apparently, we're getting fiber optic internet soon!"

Amy snorted, charmed by his uncharacteristic rush of excitement. "Congrats! I'm happy for you. But… Are you going to take classes at home when that happens?"

"It passed my mind," Izzy admitted. "But I do have free room and board- and living on campus is part of the experience."

"I can't believe you'd substitute the dorm for this," Amy said, tipping her head towards the view. "But… I'm really glad."

"Well, we are upgrading this year, at least," Izzy pointed out. "The sophomore suites seem much nicer."

Amy nodded. As second years, they were entitled to live in suites- four students in two bedrooms, sharing a kitchen and a bathroom. "I won't ever have to see a girl shaving her legs at a sink again, or wonder whose hair is all over the stall." Amy sighed with contentment, then took a long pull from her cup. The coffee was starting to grow on her- especially as it sparked her brain into life.

"What would you like to do today?" Izzy asked. "I'm free all weekend."

"Can you show me around? The house is amazing. I haven't even seen your bedroom yet- are those both guests room directly below this suite?"

"Oh, yes. That's right. The main staircase leads to the two guests rooms on the second floor, and the suite from there. You haven't seen the back of the house yet. There's a spiral staircase there, near the kitchen, originally meant for servant use. My parents converted what were several small bedrooms into my room, and the master bedroom is on the main floor."

"You have your own staircase?"

"Well, my bedroom is connected to the guests rooms by a small back hallway- I'll show you. You haven't seen the library yet, have you?"

Amy's hands jerked so hard that she nearly sloshed coffee on her lap. "The what?!"

Izzy grinned, running a hand through his hair. Amy watched, absorbed by the attractive disarray of his hair combined with his playful smile. "Let's finish up, then. I'm sure my mother would be pleased to give you the full tour- she knows the complete history of the house. I believe she even has black-and-white photos of its original condition."

"Seriously?!" Amy asked him about the house, sipping her coffee as they talked. She still felt overwhelmed here, but something about the affectionate, comfortable way Izzy spoke to her made her believe that things would be okay.

And that was a thought and feeling she could very much get behind.

Author's Notes:

THE SUMMER ARC IS DONE! BECAUSE I AM TIRED OF IT!

In writing fics, I inevitably hit spots where I'm just… no longer interested in what's happening. That's what happened in the summer arc, and especially this chapter. Please do let me know if I missed a typo/grammar problem; I, er, didn't edit this chapter carefully.

But I did have an absolute blast finding inspiration images for what the Williams house looks like! Please check out my tumblr (also ahiddenpath) for that post! I'll tag it 'williams house.'

BUT NEXT CHAPTER IS THE BEGINNING OF SOPHOMORE YEAR! And it's written entirely, so it will be posted on schedule (ie, on the weekend of 4/10).

There was a scene in this update where Izzy uses his newfound comfort and confidence at home- and with Amy- to ease into some small sexy steps. But, given the recent discovery that Amy has even more sexual trauma than we already knew about, I realized that now wasn't the time. Don't worry, though; I saved the scene for later!

But anyway, I had to write other stuff to substitute, hence the delay for this chapter. I'm also having some health problems, and I'm seeing a specialist for that soon.

Please remember to review!