xxvi | take my hand

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xxvi | take my hand

a/n: honestly, it's all downhill from here.

u toxic rico stans concern tf out of me.  stop hating on women that have done absolutely nothing. seek institutionalization and stop killing the vibe. i'll kill the mf off fr and laugh. this is a game to me.

••━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

I have seen everyone I love die.

Liam's arm found it's way around my neck as we slipped out into the warm night.  Our massive driveway was not only illuminated by the blindingly bright flood lights attached to our home, but by the lights of the three SUV's that followed us home from the party.

Liam and Tatum shared a few words before the well-dressed soldier turned to me.  He reached into the pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a delicate jewelry box.  "This is from us—the family—to you."  It's rare to see a soldier nervous.  Tatum would never admit it, but one of my most developed skills would be the ability to read people.  I took the box, and he immediately slipped his hand inside the pocket of his dress pants, probably to stop them from shaking.  "Happy birthday, again," He turned, paused, then turned back to us.  "Oh, and, we all picked it out.  We think it would look good on you.  Especially, you know, when this idiot here finally decides to get on one knee—"

"Okay, that's enough—" Liam shoved Tatum into the vehicle, nearly shutting the door on the soldier's hand.  Liam leaned into the glass and mouthed something I couldn't predict, but whatever it was had Tatum and the driver bent over in tears.

"Do you know what it is?"  I tilted my head to look up at Liam.  I was met by a white smile and a perfectly trimmed beard. 

"No idea," He answered truthfully.  His fingers brushed against mine as he took the velvet box from my hands.  He eyed it carefully, before handing it back to me.  "A couple of the guys' came to me asking me what you liked.  I tried to help, but they sounded like they wanted to give you something personal.  Something to show how much they respect you, and how much you mean to them.  I let them choose whatever they felt was right."

"I wish I could spend more time with them, I feel like I barely know any of them."

Liam didn't acknowledge my comment, and I can only assume it's because he feels the same.  "They're good people."  He paused, stopped walking, then turned to me with a faint smile.  "You know, considering."

I lowered my voice to match his.  My faux Italian accent wasn't as smooth as his natural one.  "Considering."

His laugh warmed my soul, and his kiss touched my heart.  His hand found my waist and he did that thing I love.  He tightened his grip and tugged my hips to meet his.  My smile broke the kiss and his delayed it. 

I have seen everyone I love die, more than once.

"Liam!"  My laugh to his excessive groan was inappropriate, but the soft, yet demanding voice clearly had something that needed to be said.  Rosalie stood beside us, her hand tightly holding Crixus's, as if the boy was a toddler and would run if given the chance.  They both looked as though they ran from the party to the house, rather than given a ride in an overly luxurious SUV.  "Can Crixus spend the night? Please? I promise we won't scream.  He doesn't even know what the Wii is and he's never played Mario Kart! He said he's cool with sleeping on the floor in my room, so you don't have to worry about—"

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