Chapter Fifty Three

Read on, oh faithful ones...

...

Warren kissed Layla, their bodies literally burning as leaves and ferns created a mattress beneath them, alive and unharmed by the flames. Layla's body arched, pressing against him in the most delicious ways, a soft moan escaping when Warren moved to press a hot kiss against her neck. He was vaguely aware of an alarm sounding, but he refused to acknowledge the noise, and continued to kiss Layla's sun-warm skin, her head tilted back to give him better access. Warren was, of course, happy to oblige.

"Warren?" Layla said, sounding breathless and reluctant to interrupt him.

"Mmm?" he replied, distracted as he created a new pattern on her neck.

"We have to go, or we'll miss the bus."

"We can catch the next one," Warren replied.

"You said that about this one," Layla said with a grin. "This is the last bus home."

"Then we'll walk," he said.

Layla laughed and pushed him away. "Do I need to remind you how many times you complained the last time we walked home?"

"Layla."

"Warren."

He groaned and muttered something under his breath. Layla rolled her eyes and slipped off the bed, adjusting her clothes and putting her shoes back on.

"Come on, the sooner we're home, the sooner we can continue," she offered with a smile, holding her hand out for him.

Warren sighed and took her offered hand, getting off the bed and adjusting his jeans briefly. "You're lucky I love you, hippie."

"I know; I love you, too," Layla said, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

It took Warren almost twenty minutes into their bus trip to realise what he'd said.

"That wasn't how I meant to say it, you know," Warren said, accidentally interrupting Layla and their conversation about roses.

Layla blinked, confused at the non-sequitur. "How you meant to say what?"

"That I love you."

"Oh. So, you don't love me?" she asked, frowning.

"No, wait, yes! I mean, I wanted to say I love you and have it mean something, not 'you're lucky I love you' - it's a dick thing to say."

"That's because you were thinking with your dick," Layla said, laughing when he put a hand over his face and groaned. "You set yourself up for that one, Warren."

"That doesn't mean you have to say it," he muttered.

"Most of our friends would disagree with you," Layla said, taking his hand off his face and kissing his knuckles, her lips still curved in a smile. "Why don't you just say it again?"

"The dick thing?"

"No, the 'I love you' thing."

"Oh. Here, on the bus? It's not exactly romantic," Warren pointed out.

Layla shrugged. "If you mean it, then that's all that matters. Besides, love isn't always perfect moments and places. It's messy and painful and hard work. If you mean it, then it means just as much here and now as it did there and then."

Warren sat up straighter, cupped Layla's face and kissed her firmly. "I love you."

Layla smiled as they pulled apart, licking her lips. "I love you."

Realising that they were about to miss their stop, Warren pressed the button, the driver coming to an abrupt stop in response. "Sorry!" Warren called out.

The driver lifted a hand in acknowledgement and opened the back doors for them.

Warren took Layla's hand and guided her off the bus and up the street to Frieda's house.

"Well, I was going to ask if you wanted to stay over, but I think that's out of the question now," Layla said, nodding to Frieda's driveway where Nina's car was sitting.

"We can sneak in and pretend we've gone to my place instead," Warren said, pressing a kiss to the hickey on her neck.

"Tempting, but we'd be caught out when Nina went home and found out we weren't there," Layla murmured. "Why do you think Nina's here? Frieda didn't mention that she'd be coming over before I left this morning."

Warren frowned, realising that his mother hadn't mentioned anything about visiting Frieda either. "Do you think something's wrong?"

"We'll find out soon enough," Layla murmured as they walked up the driveway past Nina's car.

Hearing Ari barking as the stepped on the porch, Layla and Warren realised that Honey was there as well, though her car was nowhere to be seen. Neither one of them had spoken to her since finding out what she'd done to the bus, and they weren't entirely pleased at having Honey's presence forced on them.

"Honey's allowed to visit her mother," Layla told herself sternly, the door opening a second later.

"Oh, good, I'm glad it's you. I was worried that Ari was barking at someone who had come to rob me," Frieda said.

"We've come for the silverware," Warren deadpanned, Frieda laughing brightly in response.

"Go right ahead, dear: it's not worth the insurance premiums, and I have far too much cutlery anyway."

"Is Honey here?" Layla asked as they went inside, stopping to take her shoes off.

Ari rushed over, barking eagerly and demanding attention. Layla dropped to her knees, patting the eager puppy and cooing over him when he rolled to expose his belly.

"Oh, no, she had to leave early to visit Sarah and Jared. She's left Ari with me and will be picking him up in the morning."

"Is my Mum okay?"

Frieda looked troubled at Warren's question, her expression enough to make both Layla and Warren stop short. "She will be okay in time, I think. It's a difficult thing to have one's beliefs and world-view turned upside down unexpectedly."

"What do you mean?" Warren asked, confused.

Frieda shook her head. "Leave it be for now, dear. I think your mother just needs some time to adjust and then she'll talk to you about it.

"Now, we've both had quite a bit of wine this evening, so you'll be staying here for the night. Nina brought clean laundry over for the morning," she added, patting Warren's hand. "Why don't you say goodnight to your mother and head on upstairs? Have you eaten dinner yet?" Frieda asked.

"Nothing more than some fruit and vegetables. We got caught up studying."

Seeing the hickey on Layla's neck, Frieda doubted that studying is all that kept them occupied that day. "I'll heat up some leftovers for both of you," she said with a smile.

"Thank you, Frieda," Layla said, hugging her. "I'll just go get changed; I'll be right back," she said over her shoulder as she headed upstairs to her bedroom.

Ari raced after Layla, bounding up the stairs. While Layla didn't have her mother's gift, she had grown up with her mother talking to animals daily, so she felt as though she could understand a little of what Ari was saying. He'd had a fantastic day of smelling things and running around and being patted and loved. Layla smiled and reached down to scratch between Ari's ears, laughing when the puppy's back leg went wild.

Warren looked after them for a moment, then to Frieda, who was looking back at him with a piercing look. "Uh... I should go see my Mum now."

"A word before you go, dear," Frieda said, a hand on Warren's forearm to still him. "If you hurt my daughter, I will hunt you to the ends of the Earth and make sure you pay for every second of her anguish with days of your own, do you understand?"

Warren nodded. "I wouldn't dream of hurting Layla, Ms. Bettendorf," he said seriously.

Frieda beamed in response. "I'm glad to hear it. Now, go say hello to your mother while I heat some food up for you."

"Thank you," Warren said, feeling like he was experiencing emotional whiplash, leaving the foyer to go to the lounge room.

Nina was sitting across the lounge, one foot dangling off the side, and she was humming something under her breath as she tried to balance the wine glass on her forehead. The coffee table had close to three empty bottles of wine, and as Warren approached, he saw a fourth by the couch his mother was sitting on.

"Mum?"

"Ah!" Nina screamed, jolting upright and the wine glass flying forward.

Catching the glass before it fell and shattered, Warren placed it on the coffee table beside the bottles. He moved the fourth bottle onto the coffee table as well and looked at his mother. "Are you all right?"

She smiled up at him, big and bright, her eyes glazed. "I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm good! Frieda... Frieda went to get ice cream," Nina said, putting her finger to her lips in a shushing motion. "Don't tell my diet."

"Um... I won't?"

"Good boy. You're so good," Nina said with another drunken smile. Then her smile fell and she peered up at Warren. "You look like him, sometimes."

Warren sighed. "I know; I'm his spitting image," he said, repeating what people - both ex-friends and strangers - had said of him and his father.

"No, not in looks!" Nina said emphatically, waving her hand back and forth a few times too many. "In your eyes. You look like him. He was good too, once," she murmured, her hand flopping by her side. "Or maybe I only thought that 'cause... 'cause I loved him?" Sitting up abruptly, Nina held the lounge until the room stopped spinning. "Wine?"

"I think you've had enough, Nina. I brought ice cream, as promised," Frieda announced, bringing a bowl over to her. "Warren, dear, your dinner's in the kitchen. It's best if you say good night now," she added.

"Right. Good night, Mum," Warren said, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, Nina laughing at the ticklish sensation.

"Good night. Ooh, ice cream!"

"Good night, Frieda. I'm not sure what's going on, or what happened, but thank you for looking after my mum," Warren said, bending to kiss her cheek.

Frieda smiled and patted his cheek. "Don't you worry about it, dear. You enjoy your dinner and get a good night's rest. I've put Ari to bed now, so he should be quiet until morning."

Warren nodded and left the lounge room, still a little confused about everything, but grateful that Frieda was helping his mother through whatever this was.

"You okay?" Layla asked, setting her spoon down.

"Mum's drunk, and I've got no idea why. It's not their anniversary, his birthday, or even the month he was arrested. She doesn't usually drink like this; says it screws up her powers for a week."

Layla frowned. "That's weird. Do you think she's all right?"

Warren shrugged. "I hope so. Frieda's looking after her, so she should be all right in that sense, at least."

Sitting at the kitchen bench beside Layla, Warren took up his spoon and started eating his dinner.

"Frieda said we could have ice cream afterwards, if we want. She bought a vegan one that's made with almond milk. It's must be really good since there's, like, four tubs in the freezer and another two in the recycling bin already. They definitely weren't there this morning," Layla added, licking her spoon clean.

Warren nodded, letting Layla's words wash over him as he finished his dinner and tried not to worry about his mother too much.

Layla put their dishes in the dishwasher and took a tub of ice cream from the freezer, taking two spoons and Warren's hand as she led him upstairs.

"What are you doing, hippie?" he asked as Layla shut the door behind them.

"We're going to eat this tub of ice cream and talk."

"About what?"

"Whatever's on your mind," Layla said, shrugging. She opened the tub and offered both it and a spoon to Warren.

He rolled his eyes, but took both the tub and spoon, taking a mouthful if only to delay the talking part of this whole thing.

"Good?" Layla asked, stealing the tub and eating a mouthful for herself. "Ooh, caramel, yum."

Warren held the tub in Layla's hand and took another spoonful. "It's nice."

"Mmm," Layla agreed, her mouth full.

Warren laughed and kissed her, her lips cool against his.

Layla moved back, taking the ice cream with her. "I was thinking about what Craig and Zach said the other day," she said, digging at a stubbornly frozen chunk of ice cream.

"They say a lot of things, hippie," Warren pointed out.

"True," she said with a nod, letting out a noise of triumph when the ice cream chunk finally dislodged. "Ooh, extra caramel."

"You've really got a thing for caramel, don't you?"

Layla poked her tongue out at him before chewing on the chunk of ice cream happily. Swallowing, she handed the ice cream tub back to Warren. "They were joking about having a diary. I thought it was a good idea."

"What?" Warren asked, surprised enough to stop digging at the ice cream.

"Well, there's this whole thing about men becoming dependent on the women in their lives because they only talk to women about their feelings due to toxic masculinity and not being able to confide in their male friends the same way. So if these women leave or die or something happens to them, there's a really high suicide rate among men because they just don't know how to cope with these things happening because the women they relied upon aren't there anymore.

"It's not a healthy way of dealing with emotions, and bottling them up basically makes them explode later - they don't go away, they just fester until they bubble up and overflow, usually in bad ways. So, I thought a diary would help."

Warren licked his lips, realised he was still holding the ice cream, and dug out another bite. He held out the tub for Layla as he chewed slowly, letting the ice cream melt in his mouth for a moment longer. Eventually he swallowed and had to respond. "What if someone reads it?"

"If you wanted a hand-written diary, then that's up to you. I was thinking electronic. Adam could do something password-protected and encrypted, as well as whatever other security is needed these days," Layla said, handing the tub back. "You don't even have to say it's for a diary, just a simple document file."

Warren took another mouthful and let it melt slowly before swallowing, passing the tub back to Layla. "If I'm doing one, then so are you."

She had already considered the option for herself, so Layla nodded easily. "All right. You don't have to do it, you know."

"I know, hippie. It's a good idea. Now give the ice cream back."

"You've got to catch me first," she said with a laugh, darting out of his reach.

Warren grinned, a vine flicking out and stretching towards Layla. She was caught in a second, still laughing. Before he could feel too victorious, the vine caught on fire and Layla stepped out of the vine easily, moving towards him with a fireball resting in one palm.

"Dear diary, Layla's gorgeous and I can't believe I get to call her mine," Warren said, tugging her close and kissing her, Layla's arms wrapping around his neck.

"I was going to say the same about you," Layla replied, her lips brushing against his. "Let me put the tub down before we ruin the sheets," she said with a smile.

Warren hadn't even felt the cold tub on his back, and he laughed at the realisation. "I might've melted whatever was left, hippie."

Layla pouted when she saw that the last of the ice cream had turned into liquid. "Damn. I was going to finish that off."

"Let me try something," Warren said, a thought occurring to him. "It might not work," he said, even as he pressed his fingertips to the tub covered in condensation.

"What... Warren, what are you doing?" Layla asked, watching incredulously as the ice cream stopped melting and became solid again.

"It melted because of heat, so I took the heat out of it. I didn't actually think that would work," he admitted with a laugh, watching as Layla took up the final scoop of now-solid ice cream and ate it, licking her spoon clean.

"Do you think that would work on other things?" Layla asked, dropping their spoons in the empty tub.

"What things?"

"Well, most people are warm-blooded, aren't they?" she asked with a devious grin.

"Just give me a name, hippie, and I'll see what I can do."

Layla grinned and whispered a name in his ear.

Warren laughed and kissed her hotly. "Done."

"I'm sad that the ice cream's gone, but I've been told on good authority that massages help with emotional pain."

"Whose authority?" Warren asked, frowning.

"Mrs. Woo. She said for me to drink tea and ask for a massage from you. After work," Layla added with a serious nod.

Warren shook his head, not really surprised. Mrs. Woo had given him the same advice after he'd come in to work the day after Barron's birthday. He still hadn't taken her advice, though he wondered what it would be like to be massaged by Layla, her hands warm and firm on his skin. "All right, hippie. I'll give you a massage if you give me one."

"Deal," Layla said, kissing Warren and tugging him close. Hearing the clock downstairs chime, Layla looked over to her small desk clock and saw that it was ten o'clock. "Looks like we might have to postpone the massages; it's later than I realised," she said with a disappointed sigh.

Warren sighed as well, his forehead resting against hers. "We'll make time for it next weekend, okay?"

"Looking forward to it," Layla said with a smile, pressing a light kiss to his mouth. "I'm going to brush my teeth; back soon."

"Hurry back, hippie."

While Layla was getting ready for bed, Warren went through the bag his mother had brought for him, seeing that she'd included both his laundry and school books for the next day. Glad he didn't have to worry about it, Warren looked for his toothbrush. He found it buried at the bottom of the bag, along with a strip of condoms.

"Mum included my laundry, school books, toothbrush and deodorant, and as an added bonus: a whole strip of condoms. I don't know how much sex she thinks we're having, but apparently, it's a lot," Warren said when Layla returned from the ensuite.

"What, no lube?" Layla asked with a laugh.

"No; I'll add that to the list," he said, rolling his eyes.

"No need, I've got my own."

"What? Hippie, explain. I need details," Warren added.

"Just because we're not having sex, it doesn't mean I don't have hormones. I get horny, and the lube helps," Layla said, shrugging.

Warren stared at her, as though she would start masturbating right then and there if he stared and wished hard enough.

Layla rolled her eyes. "Really, Warren?"

Warren stood up abruptly, crowding up against her body so close that she could feel the heat emanating from his body, her body warming where they touched. Without a word of warning, Warren kissed her, hard and eager. He pulled away just as abruptly, his lips brushing against her ear. "One day, when you're ready and comfortable, I want to watch."

Layla made some sort of noise in response, but by the time her mind cleared properly, Warren was in the ensuite and going through his own nightly routine. Her knees feeling weak, Layla sat on her bed and fanned her warm face.

Warren returned to the bedroom to find Layla lying down, scrolling through her phone. She smiled over at him with green eyes. He grinned back with blue eyes, knowing that she'd used her power to calm her emotions because of him.

Setting her phone aside, Layla watched Warren as he crossed her room, the strides full of purpose and intent. He was lying beside her in a moment, kissing her and consuming her.

Pulling away to breathe, Layla smiled and stroked his cheek with her knuckles gently. "I love you, Warren."

"I love you, Layla."

Kissing once more, Warren held up the sheet for Layla so she could get comfortable, her back pressed up against his chest. Letting the sheet fall, Warren pressed a kiss to Layla's cheek, then the hickey on her neck, and then the curve of her shoulder.

"Good night, Warren," Layla said, kissing his hand before cuddling his arm to her chest.

"Night, hippie."

...

Nina woke up with a hangover, forcibly reminding herself of why she didn't drink to excess anymore. Everything felt like it was spinning individually at the same time, and that included her own damn brain.

"Oww," she groaned, her mouth stale and full of cotton wool.

"Good morning, dear."

Blinking blearily in the darkness, Nina tried to work out which inanimate object was talking to her. It was a few seconds before Nina realised that Frieda was standing in the doorway. She tried to respond, but only managed another pained groan.

"I know, dear. I brought you some aspirin, water, and a bucket," Frieda said, setting all three on the coffee table beside her. "Layla and Warren have left for school, and your work has been informed that you've come down with a bug. Just sleep and rest, all right?"

Nina sat up slowly, cradling the bucket to her chest. When the dizziness subsided, she forced herself to drink the glass of water and take the aspirin. "Thank you," she croaked before Frieda left the room.

"You're most welcome, dear. I'll be in the kitchen when you're ready," Frieda said, closing the door quietly.

Behind her, she heard Nina groan as she presumably lowered herself back onto the couch to go back to sleep. Frieda closed the kitchen door to muffle any more noise.

"How is she?" Honey asked at the kitchen bench, looking at the breakfast tray Layla and Warren had set up for Nina.

"Hungover, but hopefully the water and aspirin will help," Frieda said.

"As long as she doesn't throw up in the next few minutes, Nina will be fine," Honey said, scratching Ari behind the ears. "Was Ari good?"

"Yes, though how a puppy that tiny managed to take up half a queen size bed, I'll never know," Frieda said with a laugh.

Honey grinned. "Wait 'til he's bigger. Thank you for looking after him, Mum; I appreciate it."

"I know. How are Sarah and Jared?"

"Good; they're engaged now, did I tell you?"

"No, you didn't! What have they planned so far? When will the wedding be? Where will it be?" Frieda asked immediately.

Honey laughed. "I honestly have no idea. They're so up in the air about it all, I'm surprised that they even decided to get engaged in the first place."

"Oh, hush. Tell Sarah to come by; I'll help her organise it all. Oh, I'll have to let the girls know! They'll be so excited," Frieda said, patting her pockets to find her phone.

"I'll let Sarah know; she'll visit on the weekend," Honey said. "You left your phone in your knitting basket," she added.

"Oh, thank you, dear."

"I'd better get to work now, Mum. Lucky Ari, you get to be spoiled by all of the touch- and emotionally-starved supers at work," Honey cooed.

"Don't tease them; you know how hard it is to get a date as a super," Frieda said.

Wincing when she realised where the conversation was heading, Honey picked up Ari. "Yes, I know. I've got to go to work now. Love you, bye!"

Frieda shook her head after her daughter's hurried exit, and went upstairs to find her knitting basket and phone.

In the kitchen, the breakfast tray was set up with two hand-written notes from Layla and Warren, a mug for coffee, and a note for Frieda stating that they'd left overnight oats in the fridge for when Nina woke up.

Dear Nina,

I hope you feel better soon!

Layla xx

Hi mum,

Take care & drink lots of water.

Love you.

- W

...

"I need your help," Layla said.

"What with? I didn't do great with my studies last year - " Wendy admitted.

Layla waved her off impatiently. "No, not that; I need your help with Magenta," she said, glancing around to ensure they wouldn't be overheard.

Wendy blinked a few times, then a smile spread across her face. "What do you need?"

"Can you come over on Friday night? I want to have a proper discussion about it, not just a three-minute thing in the hallway."

Wendy snorted. "That's two minutes longer than my last boyfriend... Yeah, sure I'll come over on Friday. That means the bus, yeah?" she asked with a heavy sigh.

"Yes, but Frieda will take us to the ASL class on Saturday in her Mustang if I ask nicely."

Wendy's eyes widened. "She has a 'stang?"

Laughing at her friend's expression, Layla nodded. "Yeah, she's promised to let me drive it when I get my license."

"Frieda's amazing," Wendy said with a sigh.

"Yeah, she is," Layla agreed, smiling. "I'll let Frieda know you'll be over on Friday then. See you later," she said over her shoulder, hurrying to her next class when she saw that the hallway was almost empty.

Grabbing the last of her things for study period, Wendy headed to the study hall, wondering not for the first time what Layla had planned for Magenta.

...

Adam connected to his VPN and opened Tor, an anonymous Internet browser, before navigating to his disposable email address for what could be the final time. Opening the draft messages folder, Adam found a message from his instructor.

Your last task is available below. Good luck, Acidic.

[unknown] user has signed off

Cutting and pasting the task's instructions into a document, Adam deleted the draft message and emptied the trash folder as well. With that process complete, he returned his attention back to his task and started to read what he needed to do.

Adam re-read the task another three times before he decided how to proceed. Slipping his headphones on, he stretched and rolled his shoulders then cracked his neck from side to side before he began.

A knock at the door had Adam switching programs with Alt-Tab, his Mad Science homework displayed in an instant. Ethan had already finished it, of course, but Adam needed to read over it and make sure it still sounded like his own style of writing, and to get an actual understanding of the assignment itself.

"Adam? Oh, good, you're home. Since it's our takeaway night for February, I let your father choose what to bring home for dinner; have you eaten yet?" Ida, his mother, asked.

"Not yet, Ma. What'd Pa bring?" he asked, tugging off his headphones and following his mother downstairs.

"General Tso's. He's been craving it for a month, apparently," Ida replied with a laugh.

"Nice. Are you working tonight?" Adam asked, sitting at the dining table.

"Double shift starting at 11pm," she said, nodding to where her purple scrubs were sitting with her handbag at the front door. "Just a few more weeks of double shifts, and we'll be able to pay off the car," Ida said, sighing in relief.

"Car registration's coming up," Curtis, Adam's father, reminded her.

Pausing in serving her dinner, Ida looked stricken at the reminder. "I thought it was due in April! How much?" she asked with a heavy sigh.

"The letter came today; it's due March 10th. Four-fifty for six months," Curtis replied.

Ida muttered under her breath as she finished serving her dinner. "We'll have to take money out of the mortgage overdraft to pay for it."

"We did that last month for the water bill. Overdraft's down to four hundred; we were planning on using that to float the next mortgage payment so we could pay off the car. The car has a higher interest rate than the mortgage," Curtis added.

"I've got it," Adam said, looking between his parents. "I've been saving; I've got the four hundred in a savings account."

Technically, it was Adam's small share of money from "Mr. Phillips", but Layla and Warren had said they could use it for whatever they liked. Craig and Zach had pooled their money together to purchase a projector; Ethan had put his money in a high-interest savings account where he couldn't access it for the next six months. Adam had been curious about that account for himself, but he needed to be able to access money for his own sanity and stress-levels.

Ida couldn't hold back a sigh of relief, and she reached over to squeeze her son's hand tightly. "Are you sure, Adam? We can work it out with what we've got," she offered.

"I'm sure, Ma. Besides, I know you'll pay me back," he added with a quick smile.

"Of course. As soon as the car's paid off, we'll start paying you back," Ida promised.

"Thanks, Adam. You're a good kid, y'know that?" Curtis said, smiling at him and reaching over to ruffle his hair.

Adam laughed. "Yeah, thanks, Pa."

"You can choose the takeaway night for March, okay? We'll have whatever you want," Ida promised, kissing his cheek.

"All right, I'll think about it," Adam said. "C'mon, eat up, Ma. You don't want indigestion for a double shift," he said, nodding to his mother's plate.

She smiled at him and continued eating her dinner, the knot of anxiety in her stomach only lessening slightly as now she had to add repayments back to Adam to her mental list of bills.

"I've got a temp job starting tomorrow; construction starting early at 5am and finishing around 5pm. It'll help bring in some extra cash until I can get back into architecture," Curtis said.

Adam took a mouthful of food and nodded. His father had been saying for almost nine months that he'd get back into architecture, but it still hadn't happened. Curtis was a great architect, but after one of his buildings had been accidentally demolished by the Commander, no one had wanted to hire him again. Since then, he had been jumping from job to job - from brick-layer to painter and now construction - trying to get his name and work as an architect seen again.

Still, this was the first time in almost a week that Adam had had dinner with both of his parents present, so he took the opportunity to catch them up on nearly everything he'd been doing. He showed them the ASL signing he'd been learning, told them about his grades after the midterms, and talked in general about his friends and their outings to the Hive - a beekeeper's, he added - on the outskirts of town. Curtis and Ida were surprised but supportive; Adam wanted to tell them about his hacking and cracking work, but doubted they'd support that as easily.

All too soon, Ida had to leave for work, and Curtis had to go to bed early if he was going to get to the construction site by 5am.

With his father snoring down the hallway and his mother gone for the night, Adam closed his door, slipped his headphones on, and continued his work.

...

"'Lo?" Layla answered her phone with little more than a groan of acknowledgement.

"Layla? Is that you?"

"Adam?" Layla said sleepily, blinking over to her clock. "It's four in the morning."

"Oh, shit. My bad, I didn't check. I'll call back later," Adam said, wincing on realising that it was far too early for a Sunday morning.

"No, no; I'm awake now. What's up?" Layla asked, yawning widely.

"I was given my last task and I've finished it."

"Uh-huh. Congratulations?"

Adam laughed a little. "Thanks. I'm calling because it involves you. Or your job, at least."

A little more awake now, Layla reluctantly slipped out of her bed and away from Warren's warmth. "Oh, really?"

Adam grinned and detailed his final task. When Adam had finished, Layla was laughing so hard that she'd woken Warren up.

Warren took Layla's phone from her to ask what the hell was going on so damn early in the morning. Unperturbed by his tone, Adam told Warren what he'd done as well.

"Well, that almost makes up for the early morning. Get some sleep, Adam."

"Yeah, all right. Say 'bye to Layla for me."

Hanging up the phone, Warren looked to Layla, who was muffling her laughter behind her hand. He pulled her close and kissed her firmly, his lips curving into a grin. Layla pulled away, giggling a little hysterically. Warren tugged her back over to the bed, pulling her down into his arms.

"Go back to sleep, hippie. We'll talk about it at a more reasonable hour," he murmured against her cheek.

"Can't wait," Layla said, sleepy now that her laughter had subsided.

Warren grinned broadly as he thought about what Adam had told them, then settled down to sleep as well.

...

End of the fifty-third chapter.

Thanks for reading; I hope you liked it!