This Was Home [h.s.]

| 4. THUNDER |

  Was this admitting defeat? I really wasn't all that sure, but it definitely felt like it.

We'd been walking in silence for the past thirty minutes. I hadn't said anything since his last words before we left the house. I waited to eat breakfast until he was in front of me and not watching me so intently.

I wasn't completely sure where we were heading. I assumed it was to the drop-off that I originally tried to make it to. The tension in the air between us was too thick for me to ask for clarification.

I heard a crack of wood behind me, resulting in me immediately stopping in my tracks. My hand already hovered over my gun behind me.

A branch had fallen off one of the trees. I saw the remnants littered on the pathway ahead. I let out a short sign of relief.

Once I turned back around, I noticed Harry had also stopped and stood there with his arms crossed. He looked as if he was scolding me with his eyes, but then a smirk spread across his face, exposing a dimple.

He uncrossed his arms and softened his expression, "I would say relax but I'm actually a little impressed by how paranoid you are."

"How can you not be paranoid? Was I the only one who experienced last night? How are you so calm?" My body felt on edge still and my voice matched it.

"Preparation, babe. You also learn over time when certain noises and things are worth reacting to."

I guess that made sense. My mom always kept me and Alayna safe and as protected as she possibly could. So in the meantime, we never gathered much real-life experience with those kinds of things. We only practiced with scenarios, but that could only do so much. Her need to protect us could have actually been a downfall. Hopefully the paranoia and impulsiveness wouldn't end up biting me in the ass.

"Mm," was all I was able to come up with. He turned around to continue his walk. "Why do you keep calling me pet names?"

He looked over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of me before turning back around, "Well I don't know your name."

"You've never asked," I instantly rebutted.

"You never told me," he said back just as quickly.

"Brinley."

He didn't say anything for awhile, still just walking ahead of him as I followed. His gaze was fixated in front of him as he periodically looked to his right and left, surveying his surroundings.

It felt like an eternity passed of the quiet walk before he finally decided to break the silence. "So, Brin—"

It caught me off guard. Not many people called me Brin anymore. I used to hate it as a kid, so my family learned to just call me by the full "Brinley." I still wasn't sure why I was so against the nickname, maybe I didn't want to be a shortened, watered-down version of myself even at the age of 5.