Trust him to chicken out at the last moment. He wouldn't be Nigel if he actually did something he put his mind to do. Maybe it still needed some mulling over and he'd just prefer to go out in a way that wasn't so grotesque, so bloody or ended up with all his limbs hurting.

He climbed down from there and soon found a station to take a late bus home. It didn't take long before he was walking through the front door of Paul and Winona's home and Riele was rushing over, barreling to a stop right in front of him.

She looked disheveled, strands sticking out of her messy bun and eyes frantic with worry as she looked him over, lips bitten raw in her apprehension. "Nigel," she called and he could hear the plea in her voice. "Hug?"

He took the offer, expression crumbling as her hands came to wrap around him. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, tears burning in his eyes and then they were falling harder, unending, as she started stroking his back.

"I just—" he faltered. He didn't think he could even begin putting all what he felt into words.

"I know," Riele murmured, eyes bloodshot as she just quietly stroked his hair.

Nigel felt another hand come around him but didn't dare to open his eyes at the scent of light rosemary that engulfed him. "Aunt," he called, ashamed to no end.

"It's okay," she reassured. "I understand." He didn't have to say it. They'd seen, they knew.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Riele asked when he was calmer, bringing him to sit at the dining, Paul handing him a warm glass of water for his throat before silently taking a seat to the side. At his quiet shake of his head, still managed a soft smile. "Then, will you let me know when you can, if ever? Please?" It was important and imperative they had a conversation, at least.

"Yeah," he muttered numbly. "Yeah, I can do that." Now, he just wanted to sleep for a while. He told them just that and they let him go up to rest after Winona coaxed him to a few bites. It reminded him fleetingly of Saxon and never willing to give it a rest until he pestered him till he has his fill.

He almost missed it.

He shut the door to Alfie's room behind him, pausing at the sight of his friend sitting on the window's ledge and smoking on a blunt.

"What's the matter now?" Nigel asked, walking over.

"What?" he muttered around it, confused.

"Aunt's just downstairs," he reminded. "You—"

"I don't care," he snorted, eyes flashing with defiance as he blew out a ring of smoke.

Nigel snatched it out of his mouth, crushing it in the circular ash tray on the sill.

Alfie cursed under his breath and made to retrieve it.

Nigel easily held it out of his reach, gaze bland as he was thrown a glower.

"Don't fucking do this with me, Nigel," he groaned, pressing the heel of his palm over his eyes, stumbling to his feet and finally supporting himself against the wall. "I was just on the end of Wren's annoyance. I don't want to do this with you."

"I'm not giving it back," he said simply.

"Why are you getting on my fucking case too?" he hissed, eyes red. "Don't you understand me well enough?"

"Don't do that, Alf," Nigel grimaced at the sour feeling that lanced through him at his words. "Don't blackmail me. I hate it."

He rolled his eyes, reaching out for the stick again only to crumple to the floor with his effort when Nigel took a step back.

"You can't even stand straight," he scoffed. "Can you use your head?"

"Yeah?" Alfie sneered. "How about telling me something I don't already know?"

"Why are you being so difficult?" he frowned, not really understanding. "Do you even know how lucky you are?"

Alfie had turned so he was now on his back, gaze leaving the ceiling to find him. "Lucky?" he asked, lip twitching. "What makes you think I'm so lucky?"

"Your mom. . . your dad. . ." he trailed but he didn't even need to see the sentence to completion.

"Have you fucking grown crazy from wanting a family?" he scowled callously, staggering to his feet. "How about you just have them since you both love each other so much?"

Nigel pursed his lips, ignoring the jab to his heart as he watched him stumble over to the bathroom before disposing the blunt and going to sit on the bed. He watched the space in front of him, hardly seeing, as the shower began running and then his friend was returning, changing into a new set of clothes and making himself comfortable in the hammock hanging to the side.

So he left him to his space, getting ready for bed and letting the darkness win him over into its embrace.

—

"I'm sorry," was the first thing Alfie said when he woke up the following morning.

"What for?" Nigel asked, not putting it past him to not even remember.

"It's all hazy, okay?" he said, following him around as he slipped off the bed and started for the bathroom. "But you won't even look at me so I know it must have been really bad."

Crushing, in fact.

Nigel didn't say anything to that, just pulling out his toothbrush and beginning to scrub lazily at his teeth.

"I'm sorry, alright?" he said and then just stood there, nerves eating at him as he watched him finish brushing and start stripping his clothes. "Nigel."

"I don't know, Alf," he scoffed, fingers around the drawstring of his shorts. "Do you want a flipping show or something?"

"Sorry," he managed. "I'll wait for you outside."

Nigel just rolled his eyes at his exit before tugging it free. He only wanted a quick shower before getting into bed. His emotions were dampened still and he felt like he could even sleep the whole day. Of course, that plan was soon halted in his tracks.

"Love?" he called, soft. "What's up?"

"Do you want to go see a firework parade?" she started off. "There's a carnival this morning."

Nigel found himself hesitating. "It should still be on later this evening, right?" he asked, sighing at the short silence that followed. "Can we push it a bit?"

"It's alright if you can't make it," she said easily and Nigel was almost too hazed to understand if she meant it or  was just brushing it off. "It'll be too late by then."

"Alright," he conceded. "Let's go see it." Nigel rolled his eyes at the sight of Alfie waiting right outside the door like a lingering spirit before brushing past him and heading for the closet.

"Are you sure?" he could almost see her frown and wished he was with her so he could use his fingers to smooth it from between her brows. "We can push it. It's not a big deal if you have something on."

"It's fine, my love," he smiled, pulling out a shirt, slacks and jacket. "I also want to see you."

"Alright," she said and he could almost imagine her eyes lighting up. "See you soon, babe."

"See you," he returned fondly, curbing the words of love on his lips. Wasn't it too soon?

"You're going out?" Alfie looked depressed.

"What do you need me here for anyway?" Nigel asked as he finished dressing up and began fiddling with his hair in front of the mirror. "To watch you ruin yourself? I think I'll just leave you to it." Hayley had grumbled about a week earlier how his hair covered too much of his eyes so he'd trimmed the messy waves to just above them. He wouldn't bend if it was anyone else but she'd become the only thing keeping his sanity together so he folded easily. Just like now.

There was knocking on the door and he turned in time to see Wren poking his way in, there to summon Alfie for the continuation of his summer lessons. After the grades he'd gotten that hurt Nigel's eyes to even look at, they'd been hounding him with extra classes to make up for it before the next term rolled around.

He remembered Cass and Aries asking in jest if he was planning on finally dropping out.

Alfie had only mentioned that it was a welcome thought.

He hadn't been able to tell if he was being serious or just joking. If he knew him well enough, then it was probably more the latter. He watched him quietly get dragged out before picking his phone and wallet and taking his leave, waving Riele and Alfie's parents on his way out who repeatedly made sure he knew to leave his phone on and call him if anything happened. His lip twitched but he still promised.

His girlfriend looked pretty as always in a crop top and high waist shorts, showing off legs that looked like they stretched for miles and miles. Feeling hot all over, he quickly bundled her in his down jacket within minutes of his arrival.

She blinked, letting the cute, cuddly bundle he'd turned her into be dragged over to where he had in mind. "You can't be serious," she remarked, speechless as he bpught a scarf and began wrapping her neck up too.

Nigel arched a brow. He was just barely stopping himself from getting her some leggings as well. Just those thick types that not even a wisp of cold could penetrate. He'd leave it for now, it was cold but not that chilly a morning just yet.

"So," he said when he was done. "Where do you want to go first?" The firework flares were still a while from starting so he was fine going along with her for a bit.

It was Nigel's turn to be pulled around but he quickened his pace, putting an arm around her to protect her from the swarm of people pushing forward. In the end, he came apart near a photo booth, his arms heavy from the weight of the snacks she'd piled out, ears in their head as she clamored for their first formal couple photo to be taken.

"Pretty please?" she batted her lashes, cheeks a warm pink as she hugged his arm in a bid to coax, reaching her fingers up to pinch at the rabbit ears she'd forced stop his head.

Nigel thought she really took him for a cuddly bunny. "Sure, baby," he smiled, tugging the scarf apart slightly so she got a little more air and watching as her face filled with red.

He led her into the booth first at the cooing and excited giggling from who looked like middle-graders behind them before they started to properly hold up the line.

They took a couple and Nigel fondly admired the physical, glossy print in his hands. Staring dazedly at the other, laughing, fondly exchanging a kiss, him adjusting her fox ears. He carefully arranged the strips in his wallet as she started clamouring for them to get on at least one ride before the fireworks came on. Most of her enthusiasm had infected him and he found himself going along with her. She was his light and he didn't really understand how he'd survived so long without.

He chose the ferris wheel and smiled through her hanging her body off him as they got away from the ground. "We're near the top," he reassured. "We'll be done soon."

Her eyes brightened at his words and she released him slightly to see just how near the top they were.

He smiled in amusement but didn't have anytime to ask before she was tugging him close by the front of his shirt and covering his lips with hers. He was confused at the sudden activity, at the height of the ride no less, but wasn't really complaining and just happily savored it, reveling in the sweet feeling.

"What was that for?" he asked once they were on the ground again, she snatching a cotton candy the size of her face to hide her embarrassment.

"Can't I kiss my own boyfriend?" she snapped like an endangered specie, hackles raised as she tore away to follow the crowd, cheeks aflame.

Nigel's lip twitched in amusement but he easily kept up, watching flare after flare with her and when she was too engrossed in it all, arm protectively slung around her shoulder, he pulled up the search engine on his phone and thought for a while before typing a question in.

When he found a reply after digging through so many threads, he felt his own face warm as he tightened his hold on her, bringing her properly into his side.

The more acclaimed notion was that lovers who kissed at the top of the ferris wheel, remained together for a lifetime.

He couldn't find the origins of the superstition after searching for so long but he was in love with the thought.

Being together with her, forever.

It was the nicest thing he'd heard all his life.

Their walk back seemed even better than the time in the park as she filled his ears with loving chatter. Soon, he was headed back on his own and lying in bed, though thoughts of rest were far from his mind.

He was too elated to fall asleep.

He got up to find something to do but soon felt himself stilling when he came across the golden ticket preciously stored between the pages of one of his books.

The conversation that preceded it returned easily to him.

"A contest hosted by the art program in my college every year."

"I initially got you a ticket but thought you wouldn't want to do anything with them."

"You'll probably be on break by then."

Lips pursed thin, he snapped the book shut, gaze heavy.