#18 in TeenFic
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❝Don't,❞ he pleaded softly, offering her a tiny smile, ❝please don't make me a promise you will never be able to keep.❞ He released a quiet but deep breath, leaning forward even more, tilting his body towards her, until thei...
Nick's lips buzzed with a warm, fuzzy sensation that he could almost touch -- as if it was an extra layer draped over the skin, sending little jolts of electricity from one corner of his mouth to the other.
And it took quite an amount of resistance to not touch his lips in pure wonder and make himself look like an idiot. Which was not that big of a threat, really, considering Bree had dozed off about twenty-five minutes back and was snug against the head-rest, her face tilted towards Nick.
He snuck a glance at her peaceful figure, smiled to himself with a tiny squeeze somewhere in the middle of his chest, and looked away.
Before long, they were eventually driving past the turn to Simpsonville and entering Mauldin, the wool wind and humid atmosphere feeling familiar to him now, in ways he thought he'd never know. And that warm realisation brought with it a pang of guilt, because he's not supposed to build a life of comfort here -- he couldn't. Not when he'd left his mother behind, in a place where there was only blood and smoke.
Nick glanced again at Bree. What was he doing? Why was he so weak? Where was his resolve? His self-restraint? Was his will so easy to shake, that he'd let himself give in to what he felt for the girl asleep right next to him? He's not supposed to leave pieces of himself behind. He's not supposed to leave a part of his heart behind.
And that was exactly what would happen if he let himself get involved any further with Bree -- because Nick wasn't supposed to stay. He couldn't. This was all momentary; he wasn't naive enough to fool himself into thinking otherwise.
He reached Greenville within the next fifteen minutes, turning into the street he knew the diner Bree's mother owned was located in. He only had to drive for a small distance before the neon lights of The Quake came into view.
The car slowed down, eventually coming to a stop as he parked around the back, where Nick had spotted a private door tucked into an arch in the wall, one that probably lead to the residential part of the building rather than having to use the diner's main entrance.
It was quiet, except for when a customer left the diner, and the opening of the door allowed some of the inside chatter to spill into the night air. Then the door swung shut and silence blanketed the streets again. It was sort of fitting, really, how it was Bree's home that served as the beacon of warm food and friendly chitchat in a very silent street like this one -- buzzing with life where the houses around them slept.
