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~Avery's POV~

I was wiping down the counter when I heard the door click. I walked out smiling. It was, of course, my Jemmie. It was still bewildering to see her so grown up. She looked so much like Cecelia.

Her eyes were wide as she looked around. "Welcome home, Jemmie!" I pronounced. Unable to help myself, I took her face in my hands and pecked her forehead, doting on her, before stepping back. She was still looking around. I had taken it upon myself to redecorate the place this week.

"It's perfect," she breathed.

I clasped my hands together, looking with her. "But that's not all." We turned to each other, me with excitement and her with curiosity. "I have a complete stock of things in the kitchen. And, I hope you don't mind, but I bought you lots of new clothes! I couldn't help myself, your clothes were getting a bit dated and you're so gorgeous, just like a porcelain doll!"

"Yeah, that's fine," she uttered.

I sensed there was something else. "What is it?" I asked her. She turned to me, bewildered at my question. "What happened, Jemmie? Come now, you can tell me."

She hesitated, then answered, "I saw him again."

"Did you now?" I provoked, knowing full well that she was not alluding to Jude. She said nothing. "Was he sweet to you?"

She took a moment to think about it. "I don't know," she answered. "Whatever it was, I liked it."

Young love. I sighed. "I supposed that's all that counts."

I sat with the TV on, knitting away. Jemmea wandered out and I glanced over at her. For now she was only brave enough to wear the peacock inspired dress within the apartment. "Very pretty," I commented. "Do you like what I bought?"

"Yeah," she replied shyly. "Thanks." I saw her attention was drawn to the TV. I had yet to see her interested in TV, always somewhere with her books. I turned back to look at it, curious as to what caught her attention. It was something about the Kaiba Corporation. Then it showed the president. He dressed extravagantly. I was surprised to see he was a young man, young like Jemmie. Then I remembered what she said that day at lunch, about the well-off man who was the same age as her and she wasn't sure of their relationship.

I turned back to look at her. She had a softened expression on her face with her head tilted, gazing at him. Her arms thoughtlessly came up to wrap themselves around her, a thumb gently brushing back and forth on her arm as she looked. I turned back.

"Your boy has style, Jemmie."

This jostled her and she looked at me. "How did you know?"

"Pff, you're a dead giveaway," I retorted. "Did you figure things out with him?"

She came around, sitting on the adjacent cream couch. "He likes me," she answered.

"That doesn't surprise me," I remarked. I gave her a moment and she said nothing, so I nudged, "What is it you like about him?"

When she didn't answer I looked at her. She had tilted her head and had a slightly pouted lip. She was really thinking hard about it, so I gave her time. Finally, she answered, "I feel safe with him, he's never let anything happen to me-"

"That's good," I encouraged, retracting my eyes from her so as to not make her feel too self-conscious.

She continued. "He doesn't trust anyone, and I know how that can be. Somehow it's allowed me to trust him more. The only person he has is his brother, and I know what that is like. He's powerful and has made himself so on his own accord-"

"You're into power?" I questioned.

"I'm not into weakness," she resolved.

"Fair enough."

"I don't know," she continued to think aloud. "He's actively making his life better and making it what he wants it to be. I think that's the most admirable trait someone can possess."

"And he's quite handsome," I contributed.

"And he's handsome," she echoed, her softened expression returning.

A few days later, my sweet Jemmie came home, hurried and busy. I heard her set something heavy down before quickly locating me in the kitchen where I was looking up new recipes.

"Avery," she prefaced, finding me. She was still in her fashionably-challenged school uniform. She kept her feet widely apart, slightly turned into each other as she gripped the side of the archway.

"What is it, dear?" I asked just before I tore my eyes from the book.

"I have a project for you," she declared.

I set the book down with my glasses flipped on top of it, showing her I was ready to hear it.

"Did I tell you about the bookstore?" she asked.

"You did." I calmly nodded.

"Well, I just stopped in there. The owner was boxing up books and the place looked more scarce than usual, so I found the courage to ask. The store is closing."

"Oh, I'm sorry, sweetie-"

"So I bought all the books," she intervened. Then I understood.

"I will find a way to get them all to your library," I replied. This would be good as her library was still depressingly empty.

"Thank you," she offered, hurrying back to her room as I began to think about how I wanted to get hundreds or possibly thousands of books back to the house.

A few minutes later she returned, confused. With my thoughts placed on the books, I had forgotten about the new red-violet dress I had laid out for her. It kept the high neckline she was comfortable with and was a decent length, but was very form-fitting. She now held it in her hands.

"Avery... why is this out?" she asked, puzzled.

"I was thinking about that boy. Just wear that the next time you go to see him. Trust me, you'll thank me later," I told her. She was hesitant and nervous. "Go on, now. I've picked up on that hurried strut of yours, I assume you're off to see him now. So go change."

Apprehensively, she returned to her room, but when she returned I couldn't help but feel proud of myself. She was simply breathtaking. She humbly tried to sneak by me. When I heard her grab her keys, I called after her, "Good luck."

Next Chapter: Again

Here we were, faced with the same scenario as before.