Thank you for all the love for the last chapter! I was really looking forward to writing that one since I started this fic so Im happy to see that you all enjoyed it. This chapter is a bit shorter than the past few, but just as important c:

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Opal sat up and stretched, yawning loudly. As much as she'd love to stay in bed, there was work to be done. She'd considered asking Adam for help with the snow, but after yesterday, she didn't want to push him too hard. Planting her feet on the floor, she drug herself out of bed, making her way to the window. The whole area was covered in a thick layer of snow, the balcony practically barricaded with white. Heading to the bathroom, she went through her general routine: brush teeth, wash face, fight with hair. She rubbed her eyes, sleepily making her way downstairs.

What was surprising was the alluring smell of coffee. A hum escaped her as she made way for the coffee maker, grabbing her favorite mug. She glanced out the window for a moment, before taking a double take.

The entire walkway was clear of snow, the sound of a scraping shovel reaching her ears. Opal slipped on some fluffy boots, peeking out the front door. Her feet crunched against some of the left over snow, following the sound. She mentally cursed herself for staying in her nightgown, rubbing her legs to keep warm.

Adam was around the left side of the house, his scarf pulled up over his nose to keep warm. He was in a thick black coat, the white and red embroidery contrasting the dark leather. She felt a bit of pride bubble within her, finally seeing her work in use,

"So it fits?" She mused, making him jump.

He looked over his shoulder, gingerly pulling his scarf down,

"...Yes. Quite well."

Opal frowned, noticing his clear avoidance to look her in the eyes. While she was glad he understood what he'd done was wrong, she didn't want him to feel guilty. She hummed, looking at the mostly cleared off porch,

"You did a good job. Now that I'm up do you need help?"

"I… no. I'm almost done anyways." He muttered, swiftly getting back to work.

"I'll make breakfast then."

"You don't have t-"

Opal turned on her heel, making her way back to the front door,

"Too late, already doing it! I'll make you your coffee, sugar and cream right?"

Adam opened his mouth to retort, only to get a sound of the door shutting in return. He blew air out his nose, clenching his fist. He rested his forehead against the handle of the shovel, closing his eyes. Was this really okay? To settle into this lifestyle?

He'd been a fighter all his life; never one to stay in one place- always bringing the fight to others. Glancing through the window, he could see Opal scurrying around the kitchen. After yesterday, he was thrown back into a place where he hadn't been since he was a child. He hated being fearful, he hated feeling defenseless, hated being alone.

'Shh...shh...I'm not going anywhere.'

Adam frowned, looking down at his boots. He wanted to trust her. He wanted to believe she wouldn't turn on him.

'I'm with you, I promise.' Blake smiled, putting her hand on his shoulder.

His grip tightened on the shovel, his knuckles going white under his gloves. Every time- over and over again, he was left behind. Though with past reflection, he didn't blame them. Opal felt almost like too good of a person. She was kind and caring, but under no circumstances a damsel. She wasn't afraid to put him in his place, something no one had done before.

Originally, it pissed him off. He felt disrespected, mocked. Only as time passed did he realize; she was treating him like a person. When Opal looked at him, she didn't see the White Fang, she didn't see the scar. He wasn't a tyrant, he wasn't a hero, he wasn't a murderer; wasn't a victim. He was Adam. An abrasive, difficult, stubborn faunus.

Adam shook his head, making his way back to the front of the house. He carefully propped the shovel next to the door, doing his best to knock the snow off his boots. As soon as he opened the door, the delicious smell of breakfast was quick to hit him. He pulled off his coat, placing it on the coat rack next to the entrance.

"All done?" Opal chirped, placing a large mug on the edge of the table.

He pulled off his boots and gloves, nodding loosely. Honestly he still wasn't ready to talk to her, but he knew it was coming. Making his way to the small island, he picked up his cup of overly sweet coffee, letting out a small hum. The slight taste of cocoa caught his attention, accompanied by some peppermint.

"Do you like it?" She mused, leaning on the counter, "I figured you might like something different for a change."

"It's good." He mumbled, taking another sip, "...For someone who drinks asphalt you have good taste."

Opal mocked offense, putting her hand on her chest,

"Don't worry, only three of my teeth rotted out of my mouth making it."

A small smirk graced his lips, eyes traveling back to his mug. Opal smiled, resting her cheek against her hand. She was glad to see him a bit more at ease, though the skiddish behaviour didn't suit him. He was always cocky and condescending, but in a way she found amusing enough. Now, he just seemed… lost.

She watched his eyes travel to the splintered wall, his body tensing.

'You could have hurt her. Killed her.'

He felt a hand on his shoulder, eyes snapping back to Opal. She simply gave him a warm smile before turning her attention back to their meal in progress. He helped where he could, even though most of the cooking was already done. A plate was slid across the island to him as Opal made her way to the small dining table with her own.

They ate in silence, this one less tense than the morning prior. Adam knew what was coming. He wordlessly picked at his eggs, watching the yolks break and run over into his toast.

"Are you comfortable enough to talk about it?" Opal looked up from her meal, taking a sip of her coffee.

"About what." He replied bluntly, feigning ignorance.

"Adam…"

"Look; I lost my temper. There's nothing-"

She frowned, brows knitting,

"Adam, you had a full blown panic attack."

Adam went to retort, only for no words to escape him. His fist balled on the table as he shrunk back, looking down at his plate,

"...Is that what it was?"

"Gods. Yes, that's what it was. You can't keep hiding from whatever is eating at you."

She had it again, that look. The way her brows knit and the corners of her mouth slightly downturned; how she slightly pushed out her bottom lip and the way her body language changed. When they first met, he thought it was fear. Then, maybe it was disgust, disappointment; but no- it was concern, caring.

It made him want to crawl into a hole, knowing those eyes would see through any facade or feign ignorance. His hand twitched as soft fingertips brushed against his own, barely giving them any contact.

"I… I don't know what to do." Adam forced out, pulling his hand away.

He leaned back in his chair, looking to the side. It felt like pulling teeth- that actually seemed less painful at the moment. Would she use how he felt against him? Would she mock him? Tear him down even further than he already was?

"It's okay. You don't need to fix everything all at once, Adam." She murmured gently, a bit disappointed at his retreat, "I… I just think that we should try to pick apart what we have now- then we can focus on the overarching problem."

Adam looked up at her, brushing his hair out of his face. He offered a small nod before pausing, biting his lip.

"I...I Don't…" he paused again, brows furrowing.

Opal waited patiently for him to gather his thoughts, a gentle smile on her face. He continued to stare down at the table, hoping that somehow what he wanted to say would be sitting there.

"Trust issues… I suppose." Adam almost choked on his words, frowning deeply, "Better to keep to myself."

She nodded, leaning back in her seat. She quietly tapped her cheek, cocking her head,

"I understand… I know how it is. When…" She took a deep breath, "When I lost my parents, I didn't trust anyone. I felt like the world was out to get me,"

Opal leaned forward, taking his hand from under the table,

"Even now, I still do; but there are people out there who really do want to help. You just need to let them in."

Adam tensed, his hand twitching in her own. He hesitantly held her hand, his eyes still staring at the floor. She smiled gently, running her thumb across his scarred digits. The sheer fact he was willing to give this much of his personal space was astonishing to her.

"It doesn't have to be me; just try and keep an open mind." Opal hummed, letting go of his hand.

Adam let out a grunt, his fingers twitching at the lack of contact. He glanced up at her, those soft eyes staring back at him.

"Just take your time," a small giggle escaped her as she reached out to pat his cheek, "And I'll be here if you need me."

While she was expecting him to swat her away or give an off handed comment, he simply stayed put, avoiding her eyes again. Opal got up from her seat, tilting her hip to the side as she stretched,

"I'm going to get changed; maybe you can help me unearth the balcony." She laughed, heading for the stairs.

Adam's hand suddenly stopped her, holding onto her wrist. She blinked, a slightly startled noise escaping her. He opened his mouth for a moment, glancing at her in the corner of his eye,

"...Thank you, Opal."

Opal's eyes widened, her cheeks flushing a bit. She didn't realize it until now, but Adam had never thanked her directly. Sure, she could tell he wanted to, or showed appreciation in his own way- but he'd never told her so openly. She moved to touch his hand, only for him to retreat back to himself, pulling his attention back to his meal.

A small smile graced her lips as she gently wrapped her arms around him, resting her forehead against the back of his head. His body flinched at the touch, tensing at the unexpected contact,

"You're welcome."