Such a Softer Sin [COMPLETE]

Such a Softer Sin Chapter 1

Author note;

This was supposed to be something short and sweet, I had planned for it to be around five chapters. But the boys had other ideas and decided they wanted more attention, so it's ended up being a lot longer. And I mean a lot longer! :')

This is set pre BDS.

The title of this fic comes from lyrics, I caught fire- the used. One of my fav bands ever. I was listening to the song when this idea hit me.

'So kiss me like you did,

My heart stopped beating,

Such a softer sin.'

---------------------------------

Thunder boomed in the sky as the metaphorical heavens opened, the sky alight with flashes of lightning every so often. Lila ran as fast as her legs could carry her, her clothes stuck to her like a second skin. Of course she would get caught in this weather, she didn't know why she was so surprised at her misfortune when her whole life had been a shit show. Her first day back in Boston and she was already hating being here. She stood huddled under a shops tarp as she tried to figure out where to go next, her arms wrapped around herself like a protective shield from the rain. Her black t shirt and jeans were soaked through and felt uncomfortable, like she was wrapped in a blanket made of ice.

Lila had moved to Boston with her grandfather. She had been his live in help and carer for the past year since his dementia and lung cancer had took a turn for the worst. So when the man said he wanted to go back to Boston, she didn't feel like she could say no, and she had no intentions of not coming with him. She herself was born in Boston, her grandad was Irish and the Irish community here in Southie was booming. She was raised here by her parents, but when she was 10, her mother and grandfather decided to move to New York after her father was murdered. He was caught in the crosshairs of a mafia war, just an innocent bystander that was collateral damage. And as a result, she was left fatherless and heartbroken. She never wanted to set foot back in Boston after that, she wasn't stupid enough to think the mafia weren't still running things here despite the 11 years that had gone by. But her grandfather really wanted to come back here, the closest to home he could get since he couldn't travel. He knew he didn't have too long left, and she couldn't really deny him what was essentially his dying wish.

When they arrived, the small apartment they'd rented wasn't what she'd expected. She wasn't exactly well off and didn't have some fancy ass place back in New York, but this was ridiculous. The whole thing was like one big room, the only private bit being the bathroom that had nothing but a toilet and a sink. There wasn't even a shower. And then there had been the search for a part time job that she had undertaken as soon as they unpacked. She didn't want to leave her grandfather at all, but he couldn't work and she needed to earn at least some money in order for them to live. But it seemed no one was fucking hiring. Either that or no one wanted to hire her. And now, on her way back home, she was caught in a storm, and she fucking hated them. Loud noises as always scared her, sending her back to being a 10 year old girl and hearing the gunshot from the car as her dad was shot, walking back to the car from paying for gas.

She was soaked, cold and scared and she needed to get inside somewhere to wait for the rain to calm down. She hadn't expected the storm, if she did she would have worn a fucking coat. Her red wavy hair that she had inherited from her mother was luckily up in a messy bun, bar a few tendrils that framed her face, lest it clung to her head and make her look like a drowned rat. She really fucking hated storms. She saw a sign across the road for a pub and she made a mad dash for it. It would be warm inside at least, and it was an Irish bar. She always felt at home there, her mother worked in one back when they lived here and then worked at another in New York. She pushed open the door and the warmth enveloped her, making her sigh with relief. She moved to sit in a booth and closed her eyes. She didn't even realise she was shivering, her clothes still wet and cold and the hair that fell around her face was dripping onto her. The warm air in the pub could only do so much to warm her whilst she was still wearing them and piss wet through.