So I haven't updated this fic in LITERALLY NINE YEARS hahaha. I started writing this fic an actual decade ago. I've thought about returning to this story for years but never did, but now here I am! I'm sure no one will read this fic at this point, but I've always wanted to ultimately finish it, so there will be a few more chapters on the way. If you do read this, I hope you enjoy it! I've had a lot of fun coming back to this after so long 😊


The door slowly creaked its way to a close as I quietly entered my kitchen. My shoes shuffled across the wooden floor until they found the stairs. I carefully pulled myself up, both hands on the handrail, trying to be as silent as possible. I didn't want any questions from Dad about what happened or how Henry was or any of that shit. If I could just slip into my room unseen and unheard, everything would be fine. Momentarily, at least.

Finally reaching my room after what seemed like hours of stealthily climbing up the carpeted stairs, I tossed my backpack onto my bed and crashed down alongside it. With a deep inhale, I tried to clear all thoughts from my head except for Henry; how lucky I was to have Henry, how great it felt to wake up next to Henry, how simply amazing the whole experience was. As my eyes fluttered shut, I relived every single moment of last night, mentally repeating some of my personal favorites again and again. Chills ran down my body, but it wasn't because of my thoughts. The room grew ever colder, and I knew exactly why. "You didn't come home last night," a voice stated, cold and firm. I didn't bother opening my eyes.

"Well, aren't you observant!" I retorted, my eyes still closed and my face in a small smirk. I felt the weight of my brother settle beside me on my comforter. I waited for a reason as to why he sat there, but only an extremely awkward silence followed. I eventually opened my eyes to see Gabe staring off, focusing on something that wasn't palpable.

"What happened?" he asked quietly. I really didn't feel like having this conversation with him. Not now, not ever. I turned to curl up on my side while I closed my eyes again, but an apparitional hand caught me by my waist. Pulling me back to face him, Gabe helped me into a sitting position. As I pulled my legs into my chest and leaned against the wall, Gabe solemnly followed my movements with his eyes. "I just want to know why you weren't here last night," he murmured, beginning to slowly trace his fingers up and down my arm.

"God, do I have to report my entire itinerary to you every morning?" I flung at Gabe. His hand quickly came to rest at a spot just beneath my elbow, though his fingers continued to lightly dance on my skin. He continued to stare at me. Similar airy movements that drove me wild just days earlier now felt like a bad omen. I wasn't entirely sure what to make of the look on his face other than understanding that it was an obvious cocktail of emotions that all equaled "not good."

"I just thought," Gabe slowly began, "that I'd see you after school yesterday. You didn't come home all night. I didn't know where you were." My eyes followed his as they shifted down to watch his fingers flutter along my pale skin. The delicate movements gave me goosebumps, and my stomach churned with anxiety.

I didn't want to tell him the truth about how I'd spent the hours after school yesterday, especially not in any agonizing detail. It's not like Gabe didn't know Henry and I were together—hell, Henry had even been around to witness Gabe's eighteenth "birthday party" and my ensuing breakdown when my mom was still around—but that clearly hadn't stopped him just two nights ago. Although, it didn't stop me either.

"I was just spending some time in the practice room after school and then spent the night at a friend's house when I realized how late it was," I muttered, hoping he would believe it. It wasn't even like I really lied. I had spent the night at a friend's house, though I don't think friends usually leave other friends' houses sore and through the window.

Gabe didn't say anything for a while, and with each passing second, I felt my heart rate climb. Eventually, his fingers stopped moving, and he tenderly gripped my forearm. His eyes flicked back up to meet mine. "I don't want you to feel like you have to lie to me," he said with a minuscule smirk.

Well, shit. Clearly the type of thing you say to someone when you believe they're telling you the truth.

I sat still but looked away, completely unsure of which direction to steer the conversation. I mostly thought that if I could stay as still as possible, I'd somehow figure out a way to defy all laws of the universe and disappear into my bed or my wall or anywhere that wasn't exactly where I was. But I'm not the one who's not really here.

"Natalie," Gabe breathed roughly. His grip gradually tightened around my arm, and what once was a warm grasp mutated into a frigid clench. "I think we both know you're not telling me the whole story." His tone was light, but his eyes were demanding, all traces of his previous smirk absent. Combined with the chill of his clutch, the exchange was altogether unnerving.

My silent guilt rapidly morphed into concentrated irritation. I took in a shaky breath. "Actually," I quietly began, "I don't think you have any right to know if I'm telling you the truth or not." Gabe's fingers curled around my arm slightly tighter. I tried to pretend that my subsequent return to silence was some sort of confident power move, but Gabe's grip and constant attempt at eye contact had me petrified. For what felt like hours, we sat there, iciness radiating off his palm into the delicate skin of my forearm and my eyes burning a hole into the wall across the room in an attempt not to look at him.

"Do you think I don't know where you've been?" Gabe faintly cut through the silence. I willed myself not to move. Although his fingers loosened around my arm, nothing about this felt right. "Do you think I don't know everything there is to know about you?" I kept my knees pulled in tight to my chest as Gabe shifted to place both hands on me, one on my lower leg and one on the nape of my neck. Unlike Henry's darting touch down my neck and spine at the piano, Gabe's palm lingered around my neck almost possessively, as if daring me to make a move. Just days ago, he had enticed me with playful teasing and taunting, but this morning felt different, more sinister. Maybe after that we-don't-talk-about-what-happens-at-3-am line had been crossed between us, Gabe thought I was his secret to keep. But after my night with Henry, my time with Gabe felt like it was a decade ago. In the tense silence, my thoughts drifted to last night, how safe and comforted I felt, even through this craziness. As if he knew what—and who—I was thinking of, Gabe stopped moving his hands, increasing their pressure on my skin.

"Look at me," he whispered desperately. I closed my eyes, swallowed, and inhaled deeply. Before I could completely fill my lungs, Gabe spat out, "Look at me!" My breath caught in my throat, and my eyes flew open. I didn't know how this sudden confrontation—or my emotions—would shift if I looked at him, but at this point, I was too terrified to know what would happen if I didn't. I turned my head to stare Gabe straight in the eyes, instantly noticing a fierce intensity dancing across them. Still holding onto my leg and the back of my neck, Gabe pulled my face in close. "I know you," he breathed. I didn't know what to say, so I nodded slightly until he continued, uneasy heat pulsing through me. "It's always been us. I've always been here, just waiting for you to finally notice me. Now here you are." His fingers curled and uncurled in the loose section of hair escaping from my messy low ponytail. Feeling his touch, my stomach churned, and it was easy to see how I had fallen for his charms so easily. But now, my insides felt caught between restless apprehension and the primal, annoyingly-teenaged reaction to a greedy embrace from a guy who knows what he can do to you.

Even as we sat close together, shallowly inhaling the same electrified air and waiting for the other to make the first move, my irritatingly-aroused brain somehow managed to shift back to last night with Henry. Something about my time with Henry helped crack through my view of this whole fucked up Gabe situation, if only for a bit. Or maybe it was just finally getting out of this godforsaken house, getting a chance to play in the practice room, anything that got me out of Gabe's provocative territory and gave me a chance to breathe. Clearly, when I was in his presence, something made all my sense of judgment plummet about 30,000 feet underground. Before I could lose the nerve, I pulled away from Gabe and jumped up off my bed, thinking that that move alone would end this entire charade. A girl can only fall apart so many times.

Without saying a word, I turned to head toward my bedroom door while retying my ponytail. Even a late morning spent silently staring at the TV with Dad would be better than what was about to happen next if I stayed in this room. Before I could reach the door, however, a freezing hand grabbed my wrist and turned me to face the boy it belonged to, now threateningly and overbearingly chilling the air in the room. "I know you think I don't give a damn about anyone in this family," came Gabe's strained voice, "but I thought it was pretty clear how we felt about each other." I wasn't about to have this argument again with the same person who shouldn't even exist, so I just stared back at him as coldly as I could manage. "You can't act like we're nothing, Nat. You know who I am, what we are, what we could be."

The more I heard, the sicker I felt. How could I have let this all get so fucked? Even with all the bullshit I dealt with when Mom was still here and literally everything was a mess, things were somehow easier back when I ignored Gabe to the point of not even seeing him. Gabe's eyes pierced through me as his hand still coiled around my wrist. He took what looked like a steadying breath, though I knew he didn't need it, before he said, "We're all we have, Natalie."

Tears threatened to pool at the corners of my eyes. This was what terrified me the most: losing everyone and everything until all I had left was Gabe. I'd spent so many years studying and struggling and fighting to desperately become anything other than what I might just be destined to be. I stared back at Gabe, willing myself to turn from his gaze. I knew if I gave him anything more to go off of at this moment, he'd find a way to take advantage of it and pull me right back into his embrace. Wordlessly, I turned back to my door and left the room, leaving Gabe behind and heading straight for the old living room couch and the father I decided to finally confide in.