[Bad As Ever || Book 2]

7°

» "i like the way her lip gloss taste..."

Miami, FL;

"Mrs. Myers had offered to pay for a memorial for you daughter." Detective Fields explained. This would be the first time Bryson attended anything associated with or pertaining to the fire.

Paris nervously rubbed her palms on the fabric of her jeans and watched his facial expressions.

For most of the meeting, he sat back in his chair with his hand rested on his chin and over his mouth with his legs gapped open, seemingly staring into outer space.

"No, thank you." She spoke up, shaking her head with determination.

"Who is that?" Bryson asked, his face or position not changing.

"The wife of Dan Myers, who was killed in the fire." Fields explained, clearing his throat.

Paris sucked the side of her bottom lip into her mouth and looked at her husband with sad eyes. He looked as if there was something more he wanted to say but he never did.

"Are you sure, Mrs. Tiller. She seemed very adam— "

"I'm positive, thank you." Paris cut him off a bit harshly, then softened her voice.

"Well, in that case, all I have is a couple things that were saved in the fire." The detective said grabbing a bag from under the table.

They had already received their phones and so they assumed that was all that had survived.

From the bag, he pulled out several of Bryson's cd and video game collections and a jewelry box.

"Oh my God..." Paris gasped, reaching for the box. She opened it slowly and dust from the rim floated up into the air.

Bryson sat up in his seat, for the first time in the meeting, his eyes watching the box.

Paris pulled out the small necklace she had given Bryson years ago and held it between her fingers, holding it up to show him.

"It looks the same..." She smiled softly.

"I'll give you two a minute." Fields said before rising from his seat and leaving out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Bryson went to reach for the necklace but Paris pulled her hand back so that he couldn't.

"No."

"What do you mean, no?" He asked, his voice raspy and confused.

"It's mine." She stated lowly, fiddling with the necklace in her hand.

"You gave it to me.." He blinked, going for it once more. Again, she moved her hand so that his attempt was unsuccessful.

"But you don't want it anymore, so I'll just keep it." She persisted. Squinting his eyes at her, Bryson puffed.

"I didn't say that I didn't want it anymore." He informed her.

"You're not the Bryson I gave this to, he can have it once he comes back." Paris explained, putting the necklace around her own neck.

Bryson sighed deeply and wiped his hand over his face, "Paris, our daughter just died. What do you expe— "

"I expect for you to be my husband. We both lost a daughter, Bryson. But I can't go days without talking to you or telling you I love you. I need you, Bryson. I need my Bryson." She said grabbing both sides of his face.

He let out a sigh, "You mean everything to me, you know that?" He leaned closer to her and stared directly into her eyes.

"It hasn't been feeling like it lately..."

He even closer until there was no place between and placed his lips onto his wife's and put his had softly on the back of her neck, pulling her face up to his.

"I'm really sorry.." He said once he pulled away and again looked into her eyes.

Paris just smiled at him and pecked his lips, running her hands threw his hair.

"Now give me my damn necklace back, girl."

>>>>
I just want to kiss those lips 😩. So something sweet for y'all. Still a lot of problems to come, but for now, a sweet moment.

His sc is penaffleck btw