19 | Snowed in
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"This storm is much stronger than officials had expected. We are advising that everyone stays inside for the next twenty four hours, do not drive if possible, take necessary precautions to ensure you are not snowed in..." The voice from the TV drones into the air.
Ava pauses in front of it, only just slipping off her jacket. Her eyes widen gently, face falling into a flat line.
"A fucking snowstorm?" She splutters, blinkingaround at me, "You said it would only be a few hours!"
I try to dampen the amused smile on my face, "Chill, I didn't know it was that bad either," I gesture to the screen, "Clearly, no one did."
A line of text strings across the bottom: Official warnings issuedfor unforeseensnowstorm.
Ava's face purses into that perfect gentle scowl, the face I'm so used to but haven't seen for a good minute, "I should've just driven home."
I chuckle, "What? Is spending time with me really that bad?"
She glares at me with a face that saysyou know what I mean.
I throw my hands into sarcastic surrender, "Okay, fine, no teasing you, I get it."
She isn't very consoled by my joking apology and just continues to glue her eyes to the screen, watching the reporter who's been sacrificed to the weather ramble about the condition.
As I move around her towards the kitchen my eyes flick to the back of her head, the long blonde waves falling past her shoulders.
A few snowflakes still cling on, quickly melting.
I don't seem to care that she might be stuck here longer than a few hours.
I'm happy to just have her here, in my space, pursing those pink lips together and scowling at me as much as she pleases.
The snowstorm is an excuse to trace her pretty face with my eyes, hear that voice that circles in my head.
My dangerous thoughts seem a lot less scandalous when she has no choice but to be in my apartment. I was not going to let her fucking drive in this weather, she probably would've tried if I hadn't stopped her. That new stubborn streak is strong.
For now, at least, I can watch over her, make sure she's okay. I wonder if the day at the hospital is still consuming her. It's my responsibility to make sure it's not.
"Do you want something to eat?" I ask, shuffling around in the kitchen.
Her head twists towards me, hair falling over her oversized cream sweater. She doesn't say anything, watching me for a moment. I have no idea what she's thinking. Maybe she's still mad about being trapped here.
"Is that a... yes?" I ask with a tilt of the head.
"I guess..." Her voice comes out almost frustrated. She's chewing the inside of her lip again.
"I have pizza, is that okay?"
She nods gently, still hovering awkwardly beside the TV screen.
"You can sit down, you know?" I say, trying not to let any other comments slip through. I have to lay off on the teasing, on pushing us backwards. But it's hard to not want to see her reactions, her gentle irritation. This is Ava, not Birdie.
Again, she says nothing, but does eventually sit herself down on the couch, scooting to the sectional right side and pulling her knees up to her chest so she's almost in a ball.
Whilst putting the pizza in the oven I take a few glances at her, I even hear the small hum of her breath every now and then. The TV chatter blurs in my ears, the air suddenly thicker with something. That charged energy, whatever it fucking is, is always there with Ava.
It was there in the past, and it sure as hell is here now. It lingers, tightens everything, adds a weird, hazy warmth to the atmosphere around her.
It doesn't seem to be helping me, either, because by the time I leave the oven to perch down next to her I realise that I've already missed her face in just a few minutes. Her blue eyes shine somewhere between blankness and inquisitiveness.
"It'll be ready in ten minutes," I say, leaving a good distance between us.
She flicks her attention to me before saying, "Thank you."
Then her eyes are back on the screen.
It's mindless, news mumbling that I know she doesn't care about. Her finger gently taps the top of her knee, body still pulled in tighter than it should be. She's using it as a distraction, a way to not look me in the eye. Probably because she's still not over the whole Diego thing.
"Don't watch that," I mutter, reaching for the remote. My finger clicks the red button and the screen falls to black, silence filling the room.
She doesn't protest like I expect her to but it does finally pull her out her quiet spell, her face twisting to meet mine. Her eyelashes flutter softly, eyes trying to search for something in my own. There's something different today, mellow, like a guard has been let down.
"You know, you didn't answer my text," I probe, "Are you feeling ok...about the other day?"
Ava pauses, then shrugs, "I think so."
I raise my eyebrows, "You think so?"
"I don't know, I guess I'm okay. That guy scared me but... you said I'd be fine," She explains, a little mumbly.
Her words are simple but the message floating between the lines isn't.You said I'd be fine. She trusted what I said to her, felt the strength of my promise to not let my past touch her. Something protective stirs in me.
"You will be fine," I assert, our eyes still locked, "You haven't seen Di- the guy, since the hospital, have you?"
She shakes her head.
"Good, and you won't fucking see him again," I say, echoing my previous vow.
"God, Nolan," She groans, throwing her head back a little, "You're being so.... intense."
Maybe I am, but this is important to me. I've never seen her get drunk like that, never seen fear pierce her expression. I can still feel her hands shaking in mine, the cold skin beneath her chin. Now she's brushing it all away, trying to act as if it isn't a big deal.
It makes me wonder what other things she keeps hidden away, whether her secrets are not too different from mine.
I must still be being intense because a small smile flutters onto her face.
"I'm okay, really, I just want to forget about it," She mutters, "Let's talk about something else, please."
That please is similar to the one that shifted the topic away from her dad.
The key to getting through to Ava is giving her the space when she needs it.
Even though I'm still not convinced she's fully over recent events, she'll appreciate me backing off.
Plus, she's here and safe - I can keep an eye on her myself.
"You can watch the snow from the window," I say, randomly, eyes catching on the white landscape behind her.
Her head turns, "I hate that you have such a nice apartment."
"You're finally admitting it?" I chime back, "It's not just fine?"
She shoots me a look, "Don't let it go to your head."
We talk for the next few minutes, casual, almost-friendly conversation drifting between us. Ava's attention glides between me and the snow, a sort of wistful look in her eyes. She definitely gets more comfortable too, arms falling to her side. It makes my chest uncoil, relax a bit.
She's halfway through explaining the plot of some TV show when the pizza is ready and continues to ramble as I serve it on two plates. When I place them down on the table I've fully lost track of the entire thing.
I've been distracted by her smile. Gentle, wide, real. I can't name a single time she's ever smiled this long around me, well, a non-sarcastic one. It lights up her whole face, that captivating beauty flooding through.
"Are you even listening?" She hums, sliding into the seat opposite me.
I nod, even though I'm really not, "So who gets married to who's sister?"
"No one gets married" She takes a bite out of her pizza, "They call off the wedding because Edwina realises Anthony likes Kate."
I blink, "Wait, her sister? Doesn't he hate Kate?"
She just shakes her head like I'm asking stupid questions, "Do you know how enemies to lovers even works? No, he loves her actually."
"Right," I narrow my eyes, "So then what happens?"
"He makes this big declaration of love, about how he only hates her because she consumes his life... he hates that he loves her..." Her voice trails off a little dreamily.
I wonder if I'm hearing any of this right, "So he does hate her, then?"
Ava glares at me, "No. He's not supposed to love her, but he does, that's why it's so tough for him, because he's going against society's expectations- you know what, forget it."
She bites into her pizza a little dramatically, waving away the rest of her thoughts with her hand. I watch, amused. It's admittedly cute how invested she is in this little romance from a TV show. I'm aware that I'm staring way too much when her eyes flick up to mine again.
There's a bout of silence that squashes the lighter tone from before. Ava suddenly has hesitance swirling through her pools of blue, a question hovering on her lips. She eventually sighs.
"I know I said I didn't want to talk about it but..." She gulps, eye contact wavering, "Who is that guy? The one in the car?"
I can feel my jaw clench on instinct, actually, my whole body goes rigid. That wall is up, immediately, like heckles on a dog. I can't stop it, can't stop emotion from flattening in my face. Anytime someone asks, pries, I defend myself from it immediately.
When it was about Ava, about protecting her, I could skirt around it. But questions like who is that guy are not easily answerable. My brain threatens to dip back into a place it hasn't been forced to face, not until recently.
I shake my head, "It doesn't matter."
"It kinda does," She mumbles back, but it's gentle.
I suck in a breath, finding the words. She's not being pushy, she's just asking. I can't let my defensiveness turn into bitterness. Especially not towards her.
"You don't want to know, okay? Trust me."
"Is he part of like... a gang?" Her question is quiet but echoes loudly.
I don't like the words, the memories it forces forward. The more I think about Diego, the more I think about his stupid fucking brother, the mess I was in, the mess I'm in now. The past flutters by, harsh, cold and insistent.
"Were you part of a gang?" She keeps speaking, "Is that how you know these people?"
"I know you're just curious but don't be," I interject too harshly, "I'm not talking about it. It's not worth it."
Her breath hitches, like she's biting down on a flood of other thoughts. I'm sure she has a million questions, everyone does. But I put a ten foot pole between me and anyone close enough to ever ask those questions.
I lower my voice, catching her gaze softly.
"The past is supposed to stay in the past...you can understand that."
I don't say it but I think she knows I'm gently hinting at whatever shit went down with her dad. I hate that I'm even doing that, though, because I want her to tell me. I want her to trust me, want her to talk about things that make her mind spin.
She eventually nods but there's still something in her face. Faint judgement, an air of uncured curiosity. I watch the few strands of blonde straying further over her face.
"I'm going to check the weather again," She mutters after a moment.
I flash a smile and stand up, going to take her plate. She lifts it up as I do, our fingers brushing over each other. Just like the times before, it lasts a second longer than it should.
Something burns under my skin, aches to hold on for as long as it can. Her gaze holds, chest rising and falling. But then she practically snatches her hand away. The loss of skin makes my heart pang.
She clears her throat, shooting up and filling the room with the sound of a scraping chair.
My brain is still lingering on our touch.
"You're still cold," I murmur.
"What?" She falters.
"Your hand," I nod towards it with my head, "It's freezing. You should take a shower."
Her eyes widen at that suggestion, almost like I've insulted her. It's very dramatic and I'm smirking before I can help it. Her cheeks bloom a little pink and you'd think I'd asked her something insane.
"Come on, it's just a shower," I roll my eyes, "You're going to be stuck here for a while anyway, no?"
Her eyes glance reluctantly at the weather report on her phone which definitely confirms what I just said. She still looks at me like I'm some sort of Alien, though.
"I'm not using your stupid shower," She grumbles, "It's bad enough being in your apartment."
"That's not nice to say to someone who just made you pizza."
"Well thank you, for the pizza," She admits reluctantly, "But I refuse to shower... it's weird."
She scuttles back over to the couch before I can reply. But I follow her, placing the plates down on the counter and coming up in front of her before she can sit down again.
"How is it weird, Ava?" I ask, her name familiar in my mouth.
She folds her arms over her chest, "Don't. You know why it's weird."
"Everyone showers," I reply, intentionally naive.
"What happened to not teasing me?"
"I'm just telling you that you're freaking out over nothing."
Her eyes scan my face, my attempt at sounding serious even though I am still slightly jokey. Her arms squeeze tighter over her chest and I flick my eyes upwards before they can linger.
"Is this one of your weird questions where you're only asking to seem nice but I actually have no choice?" She mutters, that scowl present again.
I pause and think for dramatic effect.
"Yes."
She groans almost immediately, about to turn and fall onto the couch. I catch her wrist though, forcing her to re-face me. The grip of my fingers on her skin soothes the ache I've had since our hands brushed earlier. It's dangerous how much I crave touching her.
"Listen, have a shower, then I'll put on a movie," I say, strongly, "It will be normal, not weird... it'll just be like you're hanging out with Riley."
She snorts a laugh at that, "It will not be like hanging out with Riley."
But despite her denial I know I've changed her mind. She's got that flutter of weakness in her face, a gentle resignation. I think she knows I only ask her to do things that help her, because for some reason I really fucking care about her.
"Fine,I'll have a shower," She mumbles, then pauses and narrows her eyes, "But not because of you, only because I'm cold."
I throw up my hands in a surrender, not saying anything. If I let a single snarky comment slip through she'd definitely change her mind and I'd have to convince her all over again.
I walk her to the bathroom and attempt to show her how the shower controls work but she insists she doesn't need it mansplained to her. Fair enough. She is also very against wearing any of my clothes, despite the fact her jeans and sweater cannot be that comfortable.
I ruffle around in my closet and leave her something anyway, just in case. A large oversized t-shirt with a faded band graphic on the front and some old shorts I barely wear.
I don't know what she'll want to watch so I mindlessly flick through streaming services, hoping something catches my attention. Time passes with just the numbing, muffled noise of the shower running. I'm almost at the end of the true crime section when the door unlocks with a click.
I glance over as Ava exits.
Her footsteps patter gently until she pauses, still far away from where I'm sat.
My t-shirt falls over her body, envelopes her frame.
It covers the shorts mostly, revealing her pretty, slender legs and the bottom of her plush thighs.
Her damp hair falls messily on one side, framing her slightly flushed face.
Her eyes shine, face neutral. I glance over every inch of her, that perfect skin, her beautiful hair, the sight of her in my clothes clearly does something to me. It makes her feel like mine.She looks practically angelic right now, prettier than I've ever seen her.
My heart stalls, breath catching on itself. If I was going to say anything it's gone now. My attention has been fully captured by Ava.
She steps forward and the t-shirt catches on the bottom of the shorts, pushing them up and revealing more of her gorgeously-shaped thighs. Jesus.
My cock actually fucking twitches.
"Just so you know, I didn't choose to wear this," She murmurs, "Your shower is fucking weird, I couldn't work the knob and got water all over my jeans... what?" She frowns at me.
I'm staring. Really staring.
I need to stop staring.
Any day now.
"Earth to Nolan?" She hums. She starts walking towards me and I almost yell at her to stop. I don't know if I can handle her being any closer.
I gulp quickly, "I tried to show you how to work it."
She just flashes a sarcastic smile, sort of like a facial version of flipping me off. I blink as she strides past me, pushing herself onto the part of the couch she sat on earlier. Only this time, she's not in a ball, she sits almost sideways, legs facing me as her back rests against the pillows.
"What are we watching?"
If I'm being honest I'd forgotten about the remote still in my hand. I've forgotten about pretty much everything but the girl in front of me.
She glances towards me, tilting her head to emphasise her question.
I attach my gaze to her lips, herperfectfucking lips that for some rouge reason I want to kiss.
My eyes drag down to her legs again, casually pressed together and flashing a bit of her under-thigh.
That burning urge to touch her skin is back, worse than ever.
If what I felt before was just being protective, caring about her, then this is more than that. I want her to wear my clothes forever, want her to close the gap between us on this stupid couch.
I shuffle, adjusting myself. Am I seriously getting hard right now?What am I, a horny teenager?
"I don'tmind," I blurt out, clearing my throat, "What do you want to watch?"
She shrugs and I can still feel her gaze on the side of my head. My eyes blur the pixels of the TV screen.
"Nothing depressing... a rom-com."
Normally I'd probably protest that, I find them cheesy and boring. But I'm not really in a position to argue. I can't seem to do anything but try to avoid taking glances at Ava, sweeping my eyes over every part of her.
This is not good. If my sister could hear any of the thoughts in my head I'd probably be six foot in the ground by now. I will be, if I don't reign whatever this is in. It's not appropriate.
But when I look at Ava all I can feel is this strange, twisted need, for her. It's not as simple as ignoring it, it's fucking consuming me. I realise now that it has been for a while, maybe even since the day I came back.
"Wait, stop," Ava says. My fingers freeze on the remote, I hadn't even realised I was still flicking through movies. "This one."
It's a rom-com, like she wanted. I don't recognise it but that's probably because they all look the same to me, similar titles with the same actors on the covers. Ava looks at me, almost asking can we watch it?
I can't say no, not when she smiles at me like that. It's soft, gentle, reflected in her eyes. It's the only thing she'd ever need to convince me of anything.
I nod, pressing down and letting the movie flick to life.
It's silent for a moment, music humming into the room as the starting credits fill up the screen. It's pretty dark, the light from the day gone outside and only one small light from the kitchen on behind us.
"Thank you," Ava's voice mutters, so quiet I almost miss it.
I glance at her. She's still smiling, elbow now propped on a pillow beside her.
"For this, for all of it."
All of it. The pizza, making sure she's okay, watching a movie. It's the least I could do, the least I'd ever do for her. I'm just happy she's safe and comfortable.
"Don't worry about it," I mutter back, mirroring her smile.
The movie goes on, the same predictable plot as always. But I don't hate it, it's light and stupid, even getting a few laughs out of me. Ava grins at the jokes and smiles gently at the romance. There's comfort there, a sense of ease for her.
The hum of noise and flash of the screen are absorbed into the room as it gets later, almost-full darkness consuming the room. I flitter my eyes between the main character and Ava's soft giggles. She looks cute like this.
At some point she reaches for a blanket, pulling it over herself and stretching her legs over the sectional part of the couch. When I glance over to see what she's doing she pauses. She's hesitant but words still come from her mouth.
"You can come over here... share the blanket, I mean."
I pause too, watching the little rise and fall of her chest. But I can't ruin the moment, nor do I really want to. I shuffle over towards her, sitting just beside the longer part of the couch, my legs on the floor next to hers spread out.
We're not touching but our shoulders are close. The air burns thicker, hums with heat. Part of me wants to be closer, wants to just turn and stare at her pretty face in the shadows. She pushes over half the blanket and I drag it over myself.
"How nice of you to let me use my own blanket," I murmur, almost a whisper.
She just nudges my shoulder, eyes not leaving the screen, "Watch the movie, Winters."
And I do. I weirdly get invested in the story, even if I do think it's stupid. The protagonists are charming, and I sort of get the appeal of watching two people fall in love. I get a bit distracted, watching the flashing scenes in front of me.
It catches me off guard when I feel something touch me.
I glance down to see Ava, her eyelids closed softly, head resting on my shoulder.
Her small breaths float towards me, hair pushed into me.
She smells clean, like sweet roses and something else similarly additive.
Her face is graced with that same peaceful expression as when I took her home drunk.
I stare for a moment. I can now, with her guard down. Her touch feels almost affectionate, trusting even. It doesn't help that I like this. For some reason the sensation of Ava Quinn sleeping on my shoulder twists my fucking guts, adds fuel to this insatiable fire.
My hands reaches up to her face softly, the movie now a muffled memory. I push away a few strands of hair, revealing her face in full. She doesn't stir.
"What are you doing to me?" I mutter, out loud. It's a whisper, an honest question.
And I don't know the answer.
All I know is that I don't want it to stop. This weird feeling, the things that go against what my sister wants, whatever history me and Ava have, I can't shake it.
I think I'm already in too deep.
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