"Gwen?"

My eyes slowly flicker open as someone shakes my shoulder. I blink a few times, trying to adjust to the light entering the room, and then I realize—I'm still at Kevin's garage. My eyes widen, and I turn my head left and right.

"What happened? Is Grandpa okay?" I ask.

Kevin nods and then points behind him. "Your grandpa has a big appetite."

I stand up, my vision growing fuzzy, and I instinctively search for any sign of Grandpa Max. Until I finally spot him. He is sitting at a table, gulping down a larger-than-large soda and eating a giant hamburger as if it's the first meal he's had in weeks. I remain unmoving and frozen. Grandpa is alive. He's safe.

"You should have woken me up earlier," I say to Kevin in a breathy voice.

Grandpa places the food back on the plate and then stands up. He is definitely thinner than the last time I saw him but still in his usual round shape. His Hawaiian shirt (he'll never change that) is slightly stained, and his pants are looser on him.

"I told him to let you sleep. You looked tired," Grandpa says with a smile. He stretches his arms open as he reaches in front of me, and I practically charge toward him, returning the embrace. "Gwen."

"Grandpa," I say softly.

I embrace him so tightly I'm afraid I'm hurting him, but I feel that if I let him go, he will disappear before me. I'm not sure if it's because of my exhaustion, but my eyes start growing teary. It's not only the fact that it has been a while since I last saw him, but to know he could have been hurt or dead pains me.

I step away from the embrace, and I study him. "Are you hurt anywhere? Are you feeling okay?"

"Hurting me wasn't their priority," he says with a serious face. "How did you find me?"

I continue to stare at him. "Kevin helped me. He's been helping since the start, actually, ever since Amperon attacked us."

Kevin scratches the back of his neck as Grandpa turns to look at him. "Uh...yes, I have, kind of."

"He likes to be modest," I joke.

"Your father would have been proud, Kevin," Grandpa says.

Kevin's expression instantly softens, and his muscles grow stiff. The emotions on his face are hard to read—it looks like a mix of confusion, gratitude, and pride all at once. "Thank you...sir," he answers quietly.

The atmosphere in the room has changed, and there is an obvious tension. Kevin is looking at the ground and avoiding my gaze, but Grandpa seems unfazed by this. I decide it's better not to comment on this right now—it isn't the right time, and it's obvious it would make Kevin uncomfortable as well. It would be better to ask him another time. Later. When we're alone.

"Grandpa," I say, changing the subject, "why did Amperon kidnap you?"

Grandpa's face once again hardens. "What do you know about him?"

"We've had a few encounters," Kevin explains.

Grandpa nods. "He's very dangerous," he continues. "He wants energy, machinery, and everything he can get his hands on. We don't know his plans yet, but he is a threat." He looks at us both. "You need to be very careful with him."

"We know, Grandpa. That's why we're looking for Ben. We know we can't do it by ourselves, and we need all the help we can get. Mom and I have been trying to reach him and Aunt Natalie, but he hasn't responded to any of our calls…We were hoping you would know something…"

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, but no, I haven't heard from him. But we'll find him, okay?"

My face drops, and my body tenses. That's a bad sign. I want to know if he's safe at least.

Grandpa places a hand on my shoulder. I look up at him, and he speaks, "I know you're worried about him. Ben is stronger than him; have a little trust in him, okay?"

I sigh. "I know you're right."

"We'll find him," Grandpa says. "As soon as I communicate with the other Plumbers, we'll start searching right away."

"You're leaving now?" asks Kevin.

Grandpa Max nods.

"But we just found you," I say.

"And you'll find me again. I know you're worried, but finding Ben is a priority right now."

I nod with a lot of hesitation, and I chew my bottom lip. It feels wrong to simply let him walk away, but I know he's right. He needs to reach out to the Plumbers, and we need to find Ben.

"I can drive you," Kevin offers to Grandpa.

"I'll take a taxi. You both look like you could use some sleep. You'll need it."

I walk up to Grandpa and embrace him tightly once again. Just the thought of him going away after thinking he was gone is heartbreaking. I feel like a little girl again. The only difference is that this is far too real—we have danger looming around us, and Amperon is waiting for the right moment to strike and kill.

"Stay safe, Grandpa. Love you."

"You too, sweetheart. Bye, Kevin."

Kevin nods, offering a small smile in return. Grandpa walks out of the garage, and both Kevin and I sit down and observe as Grandpa's silhouette completely disappears into nothing.

"Your grandpa will be fine," he says as he stretches his arms up and yawns.

"I know, but it doesn't mean I don't worry."

After a moment of silence, Kevin looks at me. "I'll drive you to my house. We need to sleep, even for a bit."

"We really do." Even if I managed to sleep for a bit before, I still feel exhausted.

We enter Kevin's car, and he starts driving right away. I don't utter a word, and neither does he. I can't even pay attention to my surroundings. My mind is rushing with questions, scenarios, and extreme worry at the same time—where is Ben, will Grandpa be okay, what are Amperon's plans, why have I not seen a vision in a while. There are so many questions I feel dizzy. The car comes to a stop, and I lift my head.

"My folks shouldn't be home," Kevin says.

I take off my seatbelt, and my stomach twists and turns. I suddenly feel self-conscious at the thought of Kevin's parents being inside. What would they think if they saw me like this? All scratched up, with messy hair and tangled clothes. I wrap my arms around my frame to protect myself from the cold, and I follow behind Kevin.

The house looks cozy, the outside walls are painted a warm cream color, and the house seems to be two floors high. There is a tiny garden outside, reserved purely for some aromatic plants I vaguely recognize because of my mom.

He places the key in the keyhole, opening the door and finally stepping inside. I enter behind him, and I take a moment to study everything. The house smells exactly like Kevin does, a warm and woody scent that I can recognize anywhere at this point. But it was also accompanied by a delicious baked potato and meat smell, and I follow it to the kitchen near the entrance. My stomach starts rumbling just from that, and I realize I haven't really been eating that much lately.

Kevin closes the door behind him and starts walking around the house, probably going to get something. I just stand there, studying the house carefully and trying to inspect every corner, thinking I can maybe get some pointers about Kevin's personal life. The house is so ordinary and not at all how I imagine Kevin to live—but then again, I'm not sure if he even lives here to begin with. He's always in his garage, and he never talks about his family. Until now.

"It's not haunted," Kevin says.

"Huh?"

"The house," he continues. "You're standing there like you've seen a ghost or something. You can sit down if you want. My ma made some food so we can eat that." He throws his keys on the wooden table near the sofa.

I walk closer to him near the kitchen, realizing I've been standing still for maybe too long. "Thanks, but I'm not that hungry." A lie, of course.

"You sure? I don't usually eat here, but the food always tastes good when I do." He walks to the kitchen counter and lifts the lid of the pot. The scent of the freshly made food is delicious, and it takes everything in me to resist devouring the whole thing. "Have you even eaten anything since yesterday?"

I lift an eyebrow at him and place a hand on my waist. "Are you lecturing me?"

"I'm just saying," he says with a smirk.

"I'm the one who should be 'just saying,'" I say, half-jokingly. "When was the last time you changed your bandage?"

"My–oh yeah. Um, not sure."

I sigh in worry. "It could get infected."

Kevin places a hand on his jaw and then turns to me as if an idea suddenly hit him. "How about this–you eat, and then I'll change my bandages. Deal?"

"This isn't—" I pause, not wanting to drag this out longer. "Deal."

Kevin's face brightens up, and he walks over to one of the cupboards, pulling out two plates. He sets them on the counter next to me. While holding a spoon instead of a spatula, he tries to serve a filling to each of us, but he somehow fails, spilling handfuls in the process.

I giggle as I walk over to him. "Here, let me help."

I scout near him and gently try to grab the utensils from his hands. I feel his fingers stroke against my hand, and we both pause—we don't say anything, we don't even move, we just keep looking into each other's eyes.

My head moves closer to him, and the urge to kiss him is so overwhelming, it's eating me alive. The most surprising thing to me is that he isn't moving away. Instead, his lips hover over mine, and I suck in a deep breath, ready to seal the distance. But then, his gaze drifts to the floor.

He grabs the plate of food and walks to the dining table. I shake my head and fan my face with my hand, trying to recover while following behind him at the same time. We sit next to each other, and although we don't comment on what just almost happened, we both recognize it. I shove a spoonful of food in my mouth.

"This tastes really good," I comment, almost moaning in pleasure.

"Told ya," Kevin says while chewing his food. He seems relieved almost, and I wonder if he feels awkward because he didn't want to kiss me. "Like I said, I don't like eating here, but the food is always worth it."

"Why not?"

"Hmm?" he asks.

"Why don't you like eating here?"

"I don't like the atmosphere," he says.

I purse my lips and move them to the side. "...Is it because of your dad?"

He looks at me for a moment while playing with his food at the same time. I didn't want to outright ask him like that because I assumed he will tell me when he's ready, but it feels like the right time.

"Yes," he quietly says.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He shakes his head. "Not really."

His voice is so quiet I'm surprised I even hear him. I decide not to push it. But I do wonder. And judging from the photographs scattered around the counters and table (and some of them with another man), I can only assume he isn't in the picture anymore. Is one of them a relative or perhaps his step-dad? Is his father alive?

"I kept my part of the deal," I suddenly say, "now it's your turn. Bandages."

"Controlling much?" he teases.

"Says the one who tried to lecture me about my eating schedule."

He takes our empty plates and places them in the sink.

"Uh, wanna come upstairs?" he asks. "I have some bandages there."

"Sure."

Kevin starts walking up the stairs, and I follow behind him. I can see even more photographs hanging on the wall—wedding pictures, Kevin as a little kid, Kevin as a little kid with his mother and who I can assume is his father.

As we finally head to the second floor, it is even more elaborate than the first one, with decorations everywhere and a colorful and cheery vibe to it.

"Your house is really, really nice," I say.

"Wait 'till you see my room." He opens the door in front of him, and I can't help the giggle that escapes me. He seems to find this equally amusing.

It's basically a children's room, or what a stereotypical little boy would love. The walls are blue, there are car figurines, and car posters all around the room. Despite it being so old and unchanged, it's still relatively clean and nice-smelling.

"Nice," I tease, "Is this where you sleep at night? Because it definitely fits the image I have of you."

"That's one of the reasons I don't sleep here," he teases back. "Plus my garage is better."

"It really isn't."

"I disagree."

We enter, and Kevin heads to the bathroom in the room. Despite it being a children's room, there is a double bed against the wall with freshly changed sheets. I sit down on it. Not even a minute later, Kevin walks over and sits next to me on the bed, placing the bandages between us.

He lifts his shirt over his head, and I instantly look away. Although I've seen him do this before, I still can't get used to it—I don't even know if I will without getting flustered. He removes the old bandage, and I look down at his wound.

"Good, it's healing," I say with relief. Although it has been weeks since the injury, the wound was deep the last time I saw it, and it wasn't healing either.

"And it doesn't hurt anymore either. See? You don't need to worry now."

"You still should bandage it up until it's completely healed." I grab the bandages in my hands and lean closer to him. "Here, let me help."

Kevin doesn't object, and he doesn't say anything. He allows me to gently wrap the bandage around his torso. I try to be as gentle as possible, not only to avoid hurting him, but also to avoid any possible awkwardness. Though Kevin doesn't seem as affected as I am. He is staring directly at me, and it takes all of my willpower to not get distracted. Having a bare-chested Kevin in front of me isn't exactly easy.

Once I've finished wrapping the bandage and it's in place, Kevin places his hand on top of mine. I lift my head up. And I don't move. I don't even breathe. We continue staring into each other's eyes, and our deep breaths are the only sound in the room. His muscles relax, and I bite my lip.

His head once again inches closer to mine, and this time, I decide to let him take the lead. I remain frozen, anticipation and lust filling me. Will he kiss me or will he pull away? It's almost like a cruel game.

But before I can even contemplate further, his lips touch against mine. It's gentle at first. So gentle I can barely feel it. But I lean forward, returning the kiss with eagerness and following his lead. Kevin's hands rest on my waist, and I place mine around his neck, pulling him closer to me until our chests are touching.

The kiss changes. The gentleness is disappearing, being replaced by what I can only describe as eagerness. Want. Need. His thumping heartbeat vibrates through my body, and his hands roam up and down my torso.

I open my mouth wider, and our kiss turns passionate. Intense. He turns me around and pins me down to the bed with my arms resting on either side. But yet, he doesn't interrupt our kiss. Neither of us does.

I have thought of kissing Kevin before. I have thought of the possible scenarios, romantic and not, and yet I never anticipated this. I never expected it to be like this. And I can't lie—I like it.

But then it happens. He pulls away. I pant for breath, my face flushed and hot as I remain pinned under his muscular frame. Kevin won't meet my gaze. No, instead, he decides to look to the side while muttering something under his breath. He suddenly stands up. I feel as if all the breath has been sucked out of my lungs, and the coldness is overwhelming. I need to recover.

"I should drive you home," he says while putting his shirt on.

I'm about to respond, say anything at all, but Kevin walks out of the room without even glancing back at me. I take a few deep breaths, placing my hand over my chest and trying to understand—what the hell just happened?