Always There

Chapter Ninety-Nine

Chapter Ninety-Nine:

Bryce's POV

I hold Blossom for as long as she needs, because she's so damn soft under my hands and because there's something just so fucking exquisite about how she fits in my arms. I feel her soft little puffs of breath against my neck and it just makes me want to hold her as tight as she's holding me, because she's so sweet and kind and I just feel the intense, overwhelming need to protect her from all the horrors of the world.

I know that being held like this means something to her because her dainty fingertips are digging into my shoulder blades and her heels are pressing into the base of my spine. She holds me like she needs me, and it's an all-consuming, addicting feeling.

I know that she's ready for me to let her go when she presses a soft, open-mouthed kiss against my throat. Her legs ease themselves away from my waist as I lower her to the ground, and when her feet hit the floor, her fingertips slide around from my shoulders to my chest.

"You're my favourite person. In the whole world," she whispers to me, her voice breathy and the slightest bit husky.

I lean in, press my lips against her forehead. "And you are my favourite person. Always."

She beams at me, glances over her shoulder at all her friends waiting patiently in the living room for us. I notice that her smile dims the faintest bit when her eyes leave mine, but as soon as she looks away from her friends and back towards me, her smile returns in full-force and her eyes begin to shimmer again.

She reaches for my hand, and when her fingers slip through mine, she holds on tight. I watch as she slides her shoes off her feet before gently pushing them to the side. I do the same, and then Blossom gives my hand a gentle tug towards the living room.

I dimly become aware of how much colder Blossom's skin is than mine, and it reminds me that she was just shivering in the hallway not even a minute ago.

I squeeze her fingers gently, and she tilts her head up at me. Her eyebrows are furrowed and her big, hazel eyes are wide.

"Go sit down. I'll go grab a sweater from your room," I tell her softly.

"Okay," she whispers back.

She squeezes my fingers, lifts herself up on her toes to kiss my forehead, and then releases her hold on my fingers. I then watch as, with her hair swaying behind her, she skips into the living room where Knox pulls her into a tight hug.

She looks content as can be wrapped up in Knox's arms, her cheek pressed against his chest. Her lips are turned up in a sweet little smile, and she nuzzles herself a little bit against the material of his sweatshirt with a giggle.

To my own surprise, I myself am smiling the slightest bit as I turn away from Blossom and Knox to start walking in the direction of Blossom's bedroom. I genuinely don't know how, but I seem to have become okay with the relationship that Blossom and Knox have.

I'm just grateful that she has someone looking out for her when I'm not around.

I slip into Blossom's bedroom and turn on the lights. I still shocks me just how fucking much this room feels like Blossom to me. The colour scheme itself, white and baby pink, screams Blossom, but the little details like the painting of a cherry blossom tree and the photos of her and I hanging on the wall are what makes me grin as I head towards her dresser to retrieve a sweatshirt for her.