(and I don't think he's ever going to get over you)

The sun filters brightly through the windows, the glass distorting the angle of the beams. The cotton of his polo shirt sticks uncomfortably to his back as he swelters in the boiling heat of Nathan's attic.

He turns his head and huffs out, "And you chose the hottest day in the history of Boston to ask me to help you clean your attic why?"

Nathan laughs, "Hey, I have no control over the weather." He takes the moment to wipe his face with his shirt. "And you're the one who agreed to help," he adds.

"I didn't know I would suffer from a heatstroke when I agreed to help," he grumbles, grinning. He looks around at the attic, takes in the haphazardly piled boxes and the thin film of grime that covered each object. "It's a wonder that Jen allowed this mess in her home," he says in wonder, "It's a wreck, and we've been at this for the last hour."

Nathan bends down and lifts a box, supporting it on his knees. He sets it down a few feet away before answering, "She's been at me to clean the attic for the last year. I was just too busy to do it until now."

Lucas laughs, "You were too busy? Don't you mean you postponed doing it for as long as you could?"

Nathan sighs, "Or that." A small smile curves over his lips. "My wife's a tough bargainer."

"Oh yeah?" he asks absently, watching the dust particles dance in the sunlight. "What did she say to finally clean this place?"

Nathan hesitates before saying reluctantly, "She refused to have sex with me until I cleaned the attic."

He pauses, lets the words sink in before shaking his head and laughing, "You're kidding."

"No." Seeing his brother laughing, Nathan frowns good-naturedly. "It's not funny man."

He ducks his head and tries to hide his smile, "It is so."

Nathan lets out an exaggerated sigh, "I haven't gotten any for about a week now. I just about died, man."

"I guess it was like the old days then," he says, a twinkle in his eye. "You, your hand, and a towel huh?"

"You're enjoying this too much," Nathan states good-naturedly. He lifts a soapy sponge from a nearby bucket, and starts to wipe the dirtied walls clean.

Lucas laughs again, before getting back to work. Walking to the back of the attic, he leans over and grabs a box from a nearby pile. The cardboard feels flimsy in his hands, weakened from years of neglect and water damage. He sets it on the ground before the bottom breaks open. "Nate, do you have any extra boxes? This one is about to break."

Nathan nods distractedly, still scrubbing the grime off the walls, "There should be some near the window. Behind Jen's luggage."

He ambles towards the window, reaches behind the Vuitton suitcases and tugs a neatly folded box tied neatly with string. Not bothering to find scissors, he brings the string to his teeth, ripping the flimsy plastic with his incisors and quickly reassembles the carton.

Dragging the new box to the back of the attic, he reaches over and rips the packing tape off the aged cardboard. He finds a cream-coloured dress on top, and is about to transfer it to the new box when he realizes it's Haley's wedding dress. He swallows hard, slowly drops the dress, and pushes it aside, digging deeper. Sees broken pieces of plaster and wood, emblazoned with smiling pictures of Haley, of Nathan (the wedding wall, he realizes). A cheap and colourful plastic bracelet.

The remnants of Nathan and Haley's marriage.

At that moment, he feels Nathan's hand roughly grabbing his shoulder, pushing him down. "What the fuck are you doing?" Nathan asks loudly. His voice trembling with fury, his eyes burning like fire. "Looking through my stuff?"

Looks down, tries to explain, "I-I was just trying to move your stuff from that old box to a new one."

Nathan glares at him, "Just stay the fuck out of my stuff, Lucas!"

He backs away, his palms up in protest, "I'm sorry, man. I didn't mean to-"

"Just go," Nathan hisses, refusing to meet his eyes. He starts shoving the things back into the box angrily. "Just go."

Lucas swallows, looking at the tense curve of his brother's back. He presses his thumb to his eyelid, feels the weight of guilt settling into his stomach as he remembers Haley's smile.

And as he turns to leave, he notices Nathan shoving the battered box into a corner, placing it amongst the pieces of his current life.

Refusing to let go.