Scarlett Mila Marino

The night is quiet out here in the cabin. I lie beside Rowan, his body warm and solid next to mine. His arm is draped lazily over my waist.

"Can you believe that we hated each other at first?" I ask letting out a small laugh.

His hand goes slowly up to my head, playing with a strand of hair, twisting it around his finger. "Yeah, it's crazy."

"When did it change for you? I mean, when did you start liking me?" I ask.

He doesn't answer right away. I glance up at him and see a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"I knew it long before you did." He says, his voice teasing.

"Of course you did." I laugh, rolling my eyes. "But seriously, when?" I push.

He pauses, and then his voice softens, turning more sincere. "Remember when you picked me to fight you?"

My cheeks flush at the memory. He knew he liked me on the third day?
I remember hating him that day for embarrassing me. He was really pissing me off then.
"Yeah I remember."

"You were so determined. You didn't care who I was, or where you were. You didn't back down, you stood your ground and fought me, in front of everyone. You weren't afraid of me...of anything. That's when I knew, I needed to have you." He admits. I stare at him shocked.

"You never told me that before. I thought it would make you hate me more, that's why I picked you." I say as he shakes his head.
"Also because you were an asshole, telling me I would lose."

He laughs at that. "You did lose." He says and I push him lightly.

"Hey! I made you fall for me, I would say that's a win." I say playfully. He watches me amused.

Now that we're talking, there's always been something on my mind. Something I've wondered about for a while. Now feels like the right time to ask.

"Rowan?" I rest my head on his chest, looking up at him. He hums in response. A low, reassuring sound.
I take a breath, not knowing if the question will ruin the moment.

"Why don't you use guns?" I ask.

His body stiffens. I feel it. For a moment I think he's going to brush the question off, like he does most things he doesn't want to talk about. But then he sighs, the sound heavy.
"You notice everything, don't you?"

I nod. Because I do.

I slide my hand up to his chest, resting it over his heart. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to..."

He's silent for a long moment. I don't push him, just let the quiet settle.

"It was my sister." He says, and the words are so soft, so full of something deep and raw.

His sister.
He has mentioned her before, but shut me out before I could ask anything more.

He swallows hard, his throat working as he tries to find the words. "She...she was all I had growing up. My protector." He breathes before continuing.

"But as we got older, my father saw what that bond meant to me. And he twisted it. And when he finally didn't need her...he gave me the gun. He forced me to choose. Either kill her or die...but I didn't do it. I couldn't do it to her. She was so proud of me for standing up for both of us. So I dropped the gun, and my father went crazy mad. He put the gun back in my hands and made me..."
His voice breaks for a second, enough for me to feel the depth of the pain he's been carrying all these years.

My hear clenches painfully as I reach for him. My fingers brushing his jaw.

"I shot her." He says quietly, like he's admitting a crime he'll never be able to forgive himself for. A tear rolls down his cheek, and I wipe it away with my thumb.
"I'm so sorry." I whisper my voice shaking. I blink back the tears that's about to fall.

He shakes his head. "That's why I don't use guns. Every time I see one, every time I hear one, I'm right back there. In that moment. Watching her die."

Tears blur my vision, as I hug him tightly. To remind him he's not alone.
"It wasn't your fault, you didn't have a choice." I say my vice thick with emotion.

"That's what I tell myself. But it doesn't matter because I did what he wanted. I became exactly what he trained me to be." He says.

I shake my head, tears slipping down my cheeks. "You're not your father, Rowan. You're nothing like him."

He looks at me then, his eyes searching mine. So broken.
"Sometimes I wonder if I am." He says softly, and the vulnerability in his voice breaks my heart.

I move closer wrapping myself even tighter, pulling him into me. He lets out a breath and sinks into my embrace. "You're not." I whisper. "You're better. And you would never hurt someone you love. I know that."

He doesn't respond but I feel him relax slightly in my arms. The tension easing just a little.

My babies are finally opening up about the hard stuff<3