(It's certainly been a long while since I've stepped inside the shoes of Nora White, but I'm genuinely excited to carry on her story! Thank you for your patience, everyone, I'm finally ready to continue.

Potential trigger warning: discussion of death in the family

Also, sexual content.)

Was there scientific definition for the various levels of nerve that you could experience? I wasn't sure if I was one breath away from a panic attack or near actual euphoria. Although temptation to tell Renee what was going to happen had plagued me all afternoon, I'd somehow kept my mouth shut. Dolph had given me the new key for my room, but in the chaos of everything I'd simply walked in, picked up my things and hefted them to his room. Without Renee, I needed someone with a good eye and there was no one else I would have rather had watch me undress, redress, then undress again at increasingly frantic speed. Luckily, Dolph didn't seem to mind either.

I had dozens of pretty dresses, some more expensive than others. There was one bare shouldered green number I was eyeing but I didn't want to peak too early and hate it as soon as it was on me. His earlier affirmations had given me some hope, some confidence that I didn't dare acknowledge. But I could feel the spark – the delight – the promise, of some kind of future where perhaps things would be alright, that I wouldn't always be on the edge of nothingness and forever all in one, that I wouldn't fall at the slightest push, but where I could perch, perhaps not even alone. I didn't have to be afraid anymore. Of course, this was all just the mania talking, but I could feel it. And as I heaved a pink asymmetrical dress over my head and inspected it in the mirror, I caught sight of Dolph behind me.

He was leaned on his bed, shirtless, hair swept back in a messy bun, jeans on but unbuttoned. I could see the band of his boxers peeping just around his waist. He was on his phone, but he was watching me too. Little looks, little glances that set my skin on fire. I felt desired, because the way he was looking at me was carnal – but in those animalistic eyes, there was more than a predator, there was something vulnerable behind the hunger. His smile was true, and I turned and looked over my shoulder at him, my hair cascading to one side (an intentional move).

'Well,' I edged the hem of the dress down my thighs a little further, 'What about this one, is this the dress for our big debut tonight?'

Dolph dutifully sat up and inspected it as I turned this way and that, 'Sparky, you're beautiful. But I can't help but feel like you're overthinking this just a little,'

'We've had this conversation a dozen times Dolph,' I sighed and pulled the dress over my head, tossing it aside to land next to the other rejects. 'This is important. And,' as I stood in my bra and thong, leaned closer to him, one hand on his shoulder, 'trust me…I feel that way when you say it. And I haven't…for so long. So thank you.' I kissed him gently, felt his exhale upon my lips and my stomach juddered. His arm reached out to pull me in and as much as I wanted him to…because I really did want him to, I caught his wrist and looked at him firmly, 'down boy.'

He grinned as I stole another kiss and ventured a nibble at my lip. Startled I yelped.

'Shit you alright?' he asked, panicked.

But then I laughed. I couldn't help it. This whole situation, this whole scene, it was all so ridiculous. What was I doing. What was happening right now. I couldn't stop, the giggle infected my whole body and soon I was sat on the carpet, knees up to my chin, arms wrapped around them grinning like an absolute idiot up at him. Oh, what a sight. It was enough to make a believer out of a cynic. He wasn't perfect, and that was what I couldn't help but see as perfection. This was early. This was new. Perhaps I was being a teenager about the whole thing. But I couldn't help myself.

Near him, under his eyes, I wasn't helpless, far beyond it, but I was captivated.

'I'm more than alright,' I reached out and traced patterns in his denim with a manicured fingernail, 'I just. I guess I'm a bit overwhelmed. I worked so hard, for so long to become an interviewer, then after just one moment, everything has changed. I guess, I forgot how fragile the world is, how fickle. Ever since…'

I fell quiet.

Dolph leaned forward; one hand cupped the side of my face.

'Ever since Jake, right?'

I swallowed. Tears burned the corner of my eyes and threated to fall but I blinked them away. 'Jake died. He…,' I forced myself on. I had to. He needed to know the whole story. I needed to tell it. 'Jake was in the Armed Forces. He went out to Afghanistan. Three tours. The second one, he came back but he was…different. We didn't really understand, didn't know. He wouldn't talk about what he'd seen. We tried to talk him out of going back but he said he was needed there. He…he didn't come home.'

Dolph didn't ask. He didn't say a single word.

He was on the floor with me in an instant. His arms wrapped around me. I disappeared into him. Completely. I didn't cry. I didn't make a single noise. We stayed that way for what felt like an eternity. My truths, all of them, were Dolph's now. I had no more secrets. Nothing more to hide. I wasn't ashamed of my brother. I loved him more than reason, more than anything. He had been my world and his memory was ingrained in who I was, who I wanted to be. But I didn't tell people what happened. I didn't tell anyone. Why didn't I tell anyone?

For the same reason I didn't show them my true face.

I wasn't ashamed of my brother.

I was ashamed of me. Of what people might think of me. The sympathy. I didn't want sympathy. I didn't want it. It meant nothing to me. But there was nothing sympathetic about the way Dolph held me. I could feel his empathy instead, he was feeling grief alongside me. He held me and I could hear his heartbeat in the same manner that mine did.

'What was he like?' Dolph asked, his mouth near my ear.

'The perfect big brother,' I muttered, 'when my family gave up on me…especially Mom…Jake stood up for me. He was…in so many ways, my parent. He went to war because it was the right thing to do, not to fight, but to defend, not to scare, but to understand. He did so much work out there…but he saw so much. He wrote me, as often as he could, and when we could call we would but…' I moved my hair from over my shoulders and allowed my fingers to linger over the ink scrawled over my heart, 'every moment, together,' I finally felt the tears fall. 'It was how he ended every letter, every call. It was his way of saying he loved me. And in some ways…I think he was trying to prepare me for when he wouldn't be around anymore.'

Dolph pulled back a little, his eyes fell on that tattoo and gently, pausingly he placed a hand on it.

'Sparky, you breathe and live for both of you. I didn't know him, I wish I did. But I can feel…that he's so proud of you.'

Flood gates.

'How old were you?'

'Ten,' I whispered.

I felt his grip tighten.

'When he left I didn't want him to go. He was…he was my everything. I didn't know it would be the last time I held him or hugged him or anything. I didn't know and I wish I'd held on longer, fought harder, done everything I could to make him stay,'

I cleared my throat, 'Jake loved wrestling. When he wasn't making my parents happy by being the perfect son, when he wasn't off fighting someone else's war, when he wasn't caring for me, the one thing he did for himself, was watch wrestling. When he could he started training but…' I finally looked at Dolph again, 'It's because of him I'm here. It's because of him I have this chance. Dolph, it's because of Jake that I met you.'

Dolph's eyes were soft. The animal had shapeshifted from a leopard to a deer. He kissed my forehead and then dipped his head to kiss those words just above my breast. The closeness of his lips to my nipple was enough to send a ripple through me but I knew that this was tender, not sexual. This was gentle. Not arousing.

I placed my hands on his face and raised him to look at me once more.

'Dolph…'

I don't know what I wanted to say next, because all words failed. Silence, comfortable silence cradled us.

'Nikki cheated on me,'

I blinked, 'What?'

'I…caused it. I…cheated first. I wasn't happy. Neither of us were happy. It was petty. We were stupid and petty and trying to make the other break up first. It was…unhealthy, chemical. I didn't want to tell you Sparky. I didn't want you to think that I could do something like that.'

A deer in the sunlight, caught in the hollow of woodland. A clearing, breast primed for a crossbow bolt. Ready, willing to accept the strike, knowing there was no escape should the hunter wish to shoot.

But I didn't.

'I'm not afraid of you Dolph. I'm afraid of these feelings because they're scary and they're new but I don't regret them, I don't regret this. You…you're wonderful. You're arrogant and you're loud and you're bolshy and you're vain and dear god are you a bitch sometimes. But you're kind, you listen, you're generous, you accept…accept me, all of this. All of me.'

'Sparky I won't -,'

'Don't say it,' I didn't want to hear him promise he wouldn't cheat. In some ways, him saying those words felt like they would cheapen this whole thing. 'I believe you without hearing a single word,'

His lips caught mine, longing.

I couldn't help but react.

His movements were so graceful, so caring that I didn't realise my back was on the carpet, my arms were wrapped hungrily around his torso, his lips were on mine and he stole my breath. His tongue traced the piercing bar through my own and licked across my teeth. Arousal rolled through me; this was different to those tender kisses only moments before. This was needful. This was wanting. This was almost painful with how good it felt. Too many emotions battled throughout my mind and in our shared grief of the things we'd lost and people we'd been, I found I wanted to escape, I wanted him to carry me to something beyond, something more. His mouth moved down my throat, lines of hot kisses to my chest once more.

I couldn't breathe as his lips explored the laced edge of my bra, then he glanced at me, seeking permission.

It was written in my face.

His fingers tugged aside the fabric and his mouth caught my nipple. It felt like an explosion. His tongue, rhythmic, seeking, caused knots in my veins and muscles. I could feel myself constricting, aching into him. His hand traced over my toro, hovered on my hip, fingertips tracing circles which whispered closer and closer to the edges of my thong.

I could have screamed.

Then someone knocked at the fucking door.

'Dolph! It's Nikki, we need to talk,'

And just like that, my hot blood froze.