She inhales one last deep breath, the pressure drawing her to Nathaniel already crushing her lungs as he walks closer to her car.

'A good lawyer can convince anyone', she repeats under her breath, but the hardest one she has to convince is herself.

Nathaniel greets her with a wide smile, outshining the glow of the sun. "Bonjour, Anastasia."

This single word, followed by her name wrapped in his calm voice, has her already swallowing, trying to put her bouncing heart in its right place inside her ribcage.

"Hi."

Nate is also gulping in front of her bashful smile, yet the jump of his heart is so different as he's missing the sweet melody of his full name on her lips.

"You came on foot?"

Her distant and practical attitude could dishearten him more, but on the contrary, the light crease between her eyebrows and the faint blush on her cheeks make his chest swell. This is exactly Anastasia, his angel, down-to-earth and pragmatic, yet sweet and passionate too.

"I parked behind there." He points to his right. "So no one can see... – It's safer."

He, too, can be practical. He has thought thoroughly about this. He's been thinking a lot since he's last seen her, and he has considered every detail and every possibility, even more after her text a few hours ago.

"And how's your arm?"

"Fine, I'll be able to remove the bandage in a few days," he reassures her as the same contradictory sensations are arising inside his chest in front of her concern, and he swings his arm back and forth to confirm what he's just said, and also to take the opportunity to grab her hand.

He hasn't planned this simple gesture, yet it feels so natural as the soft touch of her skin is tingling a path along his arm and soothing at the same time the remaining burn that he would never admit is still throbbing there.

"It's just behind." He pulls her towards the direction of the glowing rays of the setting sun.

This is not what she has planned. The light contact of his hand is already too much, and she is losing control as she lets him lead her.

"And you, how are you?"

"Um... fin–" Her words, and maybe more, get lost in a gasp.

Behind the few trees, which have been hiding the sun, appears a clearing and the blazing sky on the horizon, and the green of the nature around is eclipsed by the spectacle above. 

Red, orange, pink and yellow are melting in the pale azure, like an iridescent fire in a peaceful and pure firmament, and it echoes in every fiber of her body, particularly in the sweet sparks igniting from their intertwined fingers

"It's beautiful." She turns back to find him already staring at her, and this time, her shallow breath is taken by the contrasting soft intensity in his penetrating eyes.

"Beautiful..." She can see herself getting lost entirely in those chocolate shades, burning slowly like the colors in the sunset, and she averts her gaze one second away from melting. 

"But I don't know if it's the best place to talk..." Her smile is a mix of so many emotions, just like the shivers along her skin, and the only thing that she is sure of is that they aren't because of the chilly night falling.

Coming here maybe hasn't been the best idea... Maybe she should have just avoided him forever. Yet she is not like that. She will solve all those questions, no matter how scared of the outcomes she is and how many arguments she has to lay to convince both of them of the safest verdict.

"Oh, it's not here. There is my childhood treehouse just behind."

Her words are left hanging on her open lips, and just like her wide eyes, he doesn't notice it as he is eagerly pulling her with him towards the woods a little farther. She could surely call his attention and stop him if she just tugged on his hand, yet there is no resistance as her feet are following him.

"I think we'll be safe here." He turns back to her after a few more steps, finally catching her large stare.

"Eh, is it your treehouse?!" She lifts up her head, her eyes and her mouth still as wide-open in front of the impressive cabin perched in a massive sequoia. "Some people have houses smaller than this!"

Even from the ground, in the big meters separating them from the treehouse, it is already appearing so huge, and her head is spinning as she tries to imagine what it must look like inside.

Though her gaze quickly comes back to Nathaniel, her thoughts not slowing down as he appears like another mystery, scratching the back of his neck and looking at his feet, almost embarrassed.

"Um... yeah..." 

"I was expecting some old dilapidated shed like the one I had!" She laughs softly, shaking her head, and she will pretend that it is this movement, and not the genuineness in his eyes, that is making her resolve blur and fade as she tugs on his hand. "Show me around?"

Like the gentleman he is, he instantly complies, helping her on the rope ladder placed between the sequoia trunk and a smaller apple tree, while still keeping a safe distance between them, and she once more has no fear of the height when he is so close. She is too focused on his presence behind to even notice her surroundings actually.

It is only once he lets her in that she takes in where they are, or more exactly, where they aren't, as it resembles nothing like a children's treehouse in her world.

It is neat and clean, quite spacious and full of light, and her first thought as she is glancing around is that it could be a hotel room, not one of those luxurious five-stars though, more like a hidden refuge that is hard to leave at the end of a stay. 

The furniture is simple, like the whole decoration with the walls painted in a beige shade and the pieces of clear wood reminding the surroundings in the beamed ceiling, the floor, the desk, the bed, some armchairs, and a few cupboards and shelves, yet there is an incredibly cozy and warm feeling in the whole space, and it instantly wraps around her.

"Wow! That's what you can call a really nice treehouse!" She offers him a playful grin, while he shakes his head with a humble chuckle, and she is careful to not let her gaze stay too long on that smile, going back to scans the details of the room.

"It's well-maintained. Do you come here often?" She breathes in the fresh air as if it has been ventilated today.

"No, I haven't come back since I left for military school. But there is staff taking care of it with the grounds a few times a year." He shrugs, and as this simple gesture, his casual words, and this whole thing are highlighting how different it is, once again, from her world, she tries to hide her surprise and realization, yet she isn't succeeding.

"All the grounds around are yours?!" Her eyes keep widening as she gazes at the vast fields and wood through the window, a sight still as breath-taking, although, now that the sun is set, the only touch of red remaining in all this green are the ripe apples in the branches below.

Nate doesn't reply, as it hasn't been really a question, her lawyer gaze has already guessed, and he might have lost his voice, too enthralled by her silhouette standing here, by the window of his treehouse, and as she admiring the scenery, an urge is arising and flooding his veins to wrap his arms around her small waist, maybe even put his chin on her shoulder, and breathe in her and every detail. 

He hasn't been here since a long time, but he doesn't even take a second look at his surroundings; his eyes are only on Anastasia. Her perfectly neat golden ponytail, her lavender blouse showing only a glimpse of her slim silhouette, her perfectly slender legs hugged in tight leggings, and every inch of pearly skin appearing to his view, his gaze follows this path; however, his feet stay firmly planted on the floor, at a comfortable yet painful distance.

"Did you spend a lot of time here as a kid?" She glances back at him, once again meeting his gaze on her, and to shake off the restlessness it is creating in her legs, her feet start treading the wooden floor, while his are still unmoving.

She doesn't dare walk too close to him, nor look in his direction, yet she still feels his gaze following all her movements, and with every step, she loses more focus, especially when she is glimpsing parts of him throughout the whole room.

Her feet slow down in front of a few pictures on a shelf, stopping a second on the bigger one: an elegant couple in a fancy decor, who are undoubtedly his parents judging by the resemblance. She recognizes the abundant brown curls of the woman as she sees them sometimes when they get free on Nathaniel's head, and the man's gaze is the same piercing intensity of brown as the one she remembers every shade, though Nathaniel's is softer.

Her gaze slides on the next photo as she is still immobile, and she finds back those warm chocolate eyes on a much younger Nathaniel: a small curly kid with a proud grin, the same he has been wearing when he has won that fight at the Awards Ceremony, and her own lips tickle with a wide smile in front of the picture.

"Yes... We lived in a house near, and since my parents were rarely home, I spent a lot of time with the staff, especially the gardener."

"That explains the coffee grounds!" Her gaze is brought back to him in a sparkling sideways glance, and this time, it's her who is unmoving, and him, who starts walking, closer, nodding at the picture she has been admiring.

"He taught me a lot!"

She has been so captivated by the adorable little Nathaniel that she hasn't noticed the bald man standing beside him, both of them holding gleefully a basket full of fruits.

"It's him who designed and built the treehouse," he explains proudly. "It's a unique model!"

The glorious tone of his voice attracts her attention back to the real version of his chocolate eyes, which are now shining with a tender glint.

"We can feel it's special..." 

She continues her tour, discovering all these details who have made him who he is: the sports gear and games – because of course, he must have always been excelling at everything – the gardening tools, the heroes video games, and a standing element in a corner: an old acoustic guitar.

"You have many talents!" She looks back at him as her fingers brush shyly the strings.

"Oh, no... I don't really know how to play... I just learned a little when my grandfather left it to me." He shrugs, and she wonders if it is just insecure modesty like with everything he doubts himself with.

"That's the only thing he left for a bequest. He gave all the rest to charities."

She guesses from whom Nathaniel has inherited his kindness and humility.

"We didn't need the money anyway, but my parents were fuming." He chuckles, and the genuine and nostalgic sound is left to echo in the silence as she just smiles, not daring to speak.

She feels like it would stop his precious confessions, and she cherishes this privilege to enter his inner sanctum. A longing is expanding inside her chest to know more, her eyes searching the room for another clue, and her ears waiting for his next confession. Her original mission is pushed in the back of her mind, and there, a faint voice is resonating in warning.

"Speaking of my parents, I'm forgetting my manners! Do you want something to drink? I've brought a few things," Nathaniel interrupts this small voice before it can get louder, and the supposition that it has been intentional lingers in her mind.

Though she isn't throwing him her usual suspicious frown; she is just staring at him through big eyes, a little lost with her thoughts, lost with herself.

"Make yourself at home!" He smiles charmingly with his perfect manners before squatting down to look into a small fridge, and she plumps down on a stiff armchair, stunned, as his simple polite words hit her.

'At home', she has been there for barely a few minutes, but she already feels at home. Surrounded by all these little details belonging to Nathaniel, in this place steeped in him, she feels at home. A shiver runs down her spine on this realization.

"Are you cold?" He has already taken his attention out of the fridge, and his chocolate eyes are back on her. "Here."

A snug blanket is put around her shoulders before she can even answer, and she is wrapped in even more warm coziness as he sits down close, smoothing his hands up and down over her covered arms.

She is not cold. She is melting; all her icy lawyer determination and resolutions are melting. 

His fingers trace her left arm, her shoulder, and up to brush a strand of hair out of her face, toying with the wavy end, while his other hand is still gently brushing her upper arm, and the bare movements bring her flashbacks of their first encounter and his bold fingers. Though now, it is even more tender and warm. 

From his gentle calloused hands to his soft dark gaze, everything feels home, the comfortable silence only adding to this cozy sensation, and it is like all the way they have wandered since then has been to lead them now, home.

"What are we even doing?" She gets up abruptly, removing herself from his cozy hands and letting the blanket fall on the floor.

Goosebumps prickle her skin, but she doesn't even mind. She doesn't know if she is burning with questions, or freezing with alarm. Her heart is beating too fast, like repeating the word 'home' over and over again. 

He shouldn't feel like home; home is a word they can never share.

Her wide eyes search around the room for an answer to all of this, yet nothing makes sense, and even more than the sight of the freshly made bed, it's when her gaze falls on the glasses on the coffee table that a rush of panic floods her veins. What are they even doing?

Nathaniel still doesn't reply, and she doesn't dare to look in his eyes for fear to get lost forever.

"Je le savais... this talk was a bad idea..." she mutters, scolding herself as the need to flee from 'too much' is seizing her again, leading her feet to the door.

But Nate is not willing to let her slip through his fingers this time. "I don't know!" He grabs her wrist and turns her back to him. "I don't fucking know!"

She flinches at his words; this is the first time she hears him swearing, and these raw words are resonating in the air around and mostly, inside her chest, knocking her breath out.

"All I know is that I don't want you to go," he adds softer, yet he is so close that she can feel each of the breathless syllables on her own lips and see every shade of vulnerability in his irises.

He looks as lost and desperate as her, and this stirs a certainty in her that is growing with every loud thump of her heart.

She wouldn't be able to go away even if she wanted to. She is frozen on spot, melting under his confession, and every fiber of her body is drawn almost painfully toward Nathaniel. Even with all her resolve, she can't resist. She cups his face and crashes her lips on his.

Nate's heart explodes in his ribcage at the full contact of her sweet lips, and he instantly returns the kiss with the same desperation, his tongue already slipping in to taste her.

He hasn't been breathing, and now he is sucking in all of her. His hands reach naturally her hips, pulling her even closer, and he is letting out all his doubts and questions in this passionate kiss, finding answers in her breathless moan.

He hasn't known what to expect out of this talk. With Anastasia, he doesn't know anything anymore. However, a small part of him, the one that has taken out this place from his memories and has driven him to prepare it properly, perhaps has had the tiny hopeless wish it would end up with her lips on his. Yet this is even better than any of his fantasies, and this tiny part of him is erupting in sparks right now.

When they both are running out of oxygen, they pull away, but he keeps her close. He won't let her go. He slips one hand in her tied hair, savoring possessively to feel her silky locks through his fingers, and his lips brush over hers, unable to move more away, while their ragged breaths are clashing in synch.

For a second, he takes in all these precious little details of their closeness, gazing into her mystic hazel eyes, and watching them shine and dilate like every nerve-ending in his body. But it's really just a second before he hungrily claims her lips again, even though she is possessing all of him.

The kiss is messy, yet intent, with hungry lips and tongues savoring every second.

It feels so right; she knows how wrong it is, but it feels so right. She has tasted these intoxicating plump lips no later than two days ago, yet it feels like coming home after a horribly long and wearing trip. 

It is exhilarating, rushing to find the same cozy warmth. Her fingers sneak under his black tee-shirt to find his hot skin, and her chest is filling with his scent and all of him. It is the same sensation as breathing in a full whiff of air after arriving in the right place.

Nevertheless, at the same time, she still is discovering new nuances mixing with the minty fresh taste on the tip of her tongue, and his lips are astonishing her, moving in indescribable ways that create tingles until her toes.

She lets her hands explore his warm velvety skin and the taut muscles that she is starting to know the lines and curves by heart. She can feel his heart thudding against his ribcage, and it is pumping burning desire in her veins. She wants more. The closer she gets to him, the more she needs, and she senses she will never get enough.

Her lips travel down his smooth jaw and neck, and hungry for more of him, her mouth searches for the marks she has shown him how to conceal, already claiming more.

The tender path of her eager teeth is driving him wild. She is sending rushes of electrifying lust until his pants, and every part of him is itching to take her right here, right now. Yet he doesn't move, keeping his firm grip on her hips and in her locks. 

He wants to make this moment last as long as he can, and there's also this shadow of ticking fear that any sudden movement could make her run away from him, so he's already enjoying having her in his arms. He knows how quickly she can disappear, and he is well aware of her doubts and fears as he is battling with the same ones. 

However, when he is used to accepting what he can't control and just locking all his torments in a dark corner of his mind, she needs to shed light on every question and answer everything.

"What are we even doing?" she whimpers weakly against the burning skin of his neck, still sucking determinately.

It isn't a question anymore, just a helpless observation, but he still replies in his own way, grabbing her chin gently and kissing her with passion again.

He has just shattered all her walls of beliefs, the final blow after all the pressure that has been put on them for the past weeks, and now, she is standing and watching in the rubbles, feeling lost and free at the same time as his devastating hands don't stop. 

They are sliding under her blouse, caressing softly the skin of her lower back, where they seem to belong, and something is brewing under the rubbles. Butterflies, it is butterflies that are springing there; she realizes as they start soaring in light sparks with the fever of his lips on hers.

"We..." She can't think straight, her head spinning and her chest expanding with all these sparking butterflies, and they are rushing to her core as his teeth nibble and tickle between her lower lip and her upper lip.

"It's..." she stammers between breathless pants.

She notices they have stopped moving – actually she is also realizing they have been stumbling around until now, as she has been too absorbed by the majestic bugs flying in her insides and also the ones Nathaniel is leaving along her collar bone.

She doesn't know which one of them has been leading the way, and she still can't figure it out as they tip over on the bed. Is he taking her down with him? Or is she pushing him? Something tells her they are both falling willingly.

"... wrong..." She finally finds the word as she lands on top of him.

"Yeah, it's wrroonnng..." His echo ends in a groan under the swaying of her hips.

They are both accepting the truth and surrendering to it instead of fighting.

His hands crawl lower, and as he is intensifying the friction, she finds her center trapped between his hard bulge and his rough hands, and between the two, she is melting in desire.

She frantically kisses him again, unable to focus on anything else than his plump, reddened lips.

Her eagerness is pushing on the last of his restraint, and he takes off her blouse in one swift motion, before resuming with their kissing in tidal waves of hips and flipping them over.

Her head is spinning, but not as fast as her heart as he tears off his shirt, discarding it somewhere on the floor. She gladly welcomes back his strong body above her, igniting on the feeling of his hot skin against hers, from his heaving chest colliding with hers to his experienced hands following blindly their way lower.

His fingers stop respectfully at the waist of her leggings, toying with the elastic, but never lower, and tickling her deviously with throbbing anticipation.

"Nathaniel..." she pleads breathlessly, lifting her hips and offering herself fully, though the red marks displayed on her milky skin are evidence he has already claimed her.

He firmly accepts her hips, peeling off her leggings along with her panties, and she is dissolving into lava under his pads, the hungry look in his tenebrous eyes rushing this fusing magma to her core.

Actually, it might be the earnest glint in their dark shades that is lighting her on fire and catching the last shreds of her ragged breaths, and it is even more ardent as his gaze stays on hers the whole time his lips roam down her chest voraciously, tracing the outlines of her scale pendant and sliding lower. 

Meanwhile, his hands are skimming the tender skin of her thighs, close yet never where she needs him the most, and she is squirming helplessly and shamelessly as the anticipation is building to its peak.

When his lips finally reach the lowest part of her lower belly, her doe eyes widen, accentuating her dilated pupils, and he keeps his gaze solely there. He doesn't want to press her; he needs her as willing and conscious as him to be crossing the line, breaking completely the line, and she shows him her assurance by sliding her delicate fingers in his hair. 

This is enough to send his heart into a frantic rhythm, and he dives his mouth to her slick center, leaving a slow open-mouthed kiss.

She moans loudly in response, her fingers tugging fiercely on his curls. She is throbbing under his lips, and he can feel it resonate until his hard-on, getting tighter and tighter in his pants. He is so hard; he doesn't know how long he will hold, but he wants to shower her with pleasure as much as she is overwhelming him with emotions. 

He can't describe how fast his heart is beating, and he is flicking his tongue as rapidly, thrilled by every moan escaping her flush lips and every shudder of her body.

She has never felt something like this before. It is better than in any of her wildest dreams. Each swirl and each dip of his tongue is flooding her with dizzying pleasure, and she is drowning in the burning bliss, desperately holding to his now messed curls. 

"Oh m–"

As his mouth closes around her throbbing nerves, she can only surrender to the tidal wave of electrifying sensations overflowing every inch of her body, and with it, the last fragments of her reason and beliefs are swept away, or maybe she is leaving them behind as she arches into him?

It isn't her preoccupation as his strong hands are griping her tightly, making sure she is experiencing every ripple of overwhelming pleasure, and the only thing she remembers is his name that she repeats again and again.

"Nathaniel..." she breathes out one last time as she finally collapses back on the bed, and when she manages to open her heavy lids, the carnal, satisfied look in his eyes is wilder than in any of her fantasies. She knows it will be imprinted in her memory to haunt her forever.

He seems even more pleased than she could have ever imagined as he brazenly and slowly licks his lips. No wet dream can live up to this; nothing can live up to this.

Though she starts doubting it as he kisses his way back up to her lips, apparently far from sated.

Every light caress from his lips is gently reviving the inferno in her core, even if his ravenous look has been enough to heat it up again.

With each mark he brushes with his lips, his chest is filling, yet his breath is taken away, and there are a lot of those red spots that he's chasing: marks from minutes ago, from Wednesday, and from Sunday, different shades of red, and all his.

His fingers are following close behind, cherishing the smoothness of her warm, content body, and finally, he finds his oxygen again on her cherry lips.

She is surprised to discover her most intimate taste mixing perfectly in this kiss, yet also by its softness like a feather floating in heaven, and this, despite his probably painfully hard bulge poking more and more against her thighs. This tenderness is making her flutter inside, from her chest to her core.

The most surreal is that through the gentleness, their lips fully colliding and the dizzying sensations are still so fierce, and it resembles the iridescent fire of the setting sun they have seen moments ago. Although she can sense it is just the dawn of something so intense that they have been containing inside for too long. 

She doesn't even try to put a name on it; words are of no use. They go back to simple basics with this kiss, and the tenderness is growing more eager until almost feral as her hands fumble their way along to his pants.

He helps her small hands to get rid of his belt and pants, not bearing another second with a barrier between them, and when her delicate fingers set him free, sliding off the last obstacle of cloth between them, the adrenaline courses through his veins, along with a surge of freedom traveling in all his members.

She has a way to always make him feel liberated when they are together, and nothing is stopping him as he kisses her harder, rolling them around.

There, he pulls away from her lips as soon as his back hits the mattress to enjoy the view. Their centers are almost to the closest, throbbing desperately against each other, but not forming one yet, and the satisfied, sinful sighs escaping her parted lips are echoing under his skin in a primal buzzing. 

He tears off her bra and threads his fingers in her messed ponytail to free up her golden locks. He wants her as wild and free as she makes him, and she is: her hands splaying on his sweaty chest, her firm breasts pointing at him, and the hazel of her eyes drowning into dark desire.

He lifts her up slightly, guiding his fully erected member and pausing at her entrance.

They take in this short moment to grasp and appreciate the painful yet exhilarating attraction, before she slides down on him, taking him fully and leading them back to a carnal pleasure of another time. 

All of their questions and doubts are crashing and smashing on that move, their two worlds colliding in this bubble. 

This is really the perfect place, she realizes before she loses any coherent thoughts as he starts thrusting his hips into her.

She can only moan mindless and sinful sounds as he fills her completely, or her muscles clench to fit him like a glove? She can't comprehend anything; they're forming one and the pleasure is heightening and deepening with each move of his hips.

She arches into his chest to meet his lips again. It is a messy and frantic kiss, nothing like the one they have just shared a few seconds ago, yet it is still full of meaning and intensity, the tingling inside their cores traveling, clashing and heightening on their swollen lips.

He is leading her hips expertly with his tight grip on her hips, and it is marking a dizzying burn there. She follows the instinctive need in her core and starts to rock her hips to meet his thrusts deeper as the groans rumbling through his sweaty, panting chest is boosting a bold fire in her.

When his head rolls back, it bursts out even more flames in her stomach. Seeing him so lost in his sensations, she finds more strength to move her hips faster, and she runs her nails along his toned abs as she kisses his jutting Adam's apple.

"Ana!"

He recognizes his angelic temptress. He's so close, and her determined and bold moves are pushing him closer, the heat already pressuring him behind his groin. But he will take her there with him; he can feel her clenching tighter around him.

"Fuck!"

Hearing this curse leaving his mouth for the second time, and this time echoing in his strained voice, is like an electric discharge, while at the same time his hands slide down to clasp her butt and his hazy carnal gaze is meeting hers. She feels it coming, something overpowering and starting from a burning tingling in her toes, which is rising in intensity with each inch up her legs.

"Nathaniel!"

Her gasp spurs his thrusts deeper and faster, and his teeth graze along her chest. All together, it is overwhelming. The electric sensations are now coming from everywhere, and they are all reaching her center with so much power that she is almost scared as she cries out, barely recognizing her hoarse voice, 

 "Oh mon Dieu!"

His penetrating eyes bore into hers, their dark shine more sensual than everything going through their bodies right now, and she lets herself drown blissfully in there.

Her raw and foreign words are enough to throw him over the edge too, and they both tremble uncontrollably as he buries himself deep inside her, and every pulsing of her muscle floods more electric ecstasy, surging his release.

They keep staring at each other through each wave. He lets her see everything she triggers in him, and he can glimpse the same bliss echoing in her through her dazed eyes until she collapses on his chest.

He fights his eyes open to watch the messy, wrecked unity they are forming moving up and down through heavy, rapid breaths, and his fingers naturally slip into her tangled, moist locks, his other hand stroking mindlessly the small of her back, as he takes in everything that has just happened.

"Wow!" he breathes out, the euphoria still buzzing in his spent members, even more with the feeling of her warm, limp body on him and around him. "It's..."

He can't even describe it. With Anastasia, it's always been mind-blowing, but this time, he can't even find a word to describe.

She lifts her head to rest her chin on his chest, and he almost curses again at the purity of her smile. How can he steady his heart rate?

He peppers lazy, little kisses along the sweet and now salty skin of her shoulders and neck, brushing the flaming traces there. Her skin is really marking easily, and it's only stretching out his delighted grin. 

With her hazy eyes shining at him and her messy blond waves, she looks like, she feels like a heavenly dream.

"It was a nice talk!" He chuckles breathlessly against her skin, still wrapped in a euphoric daze.

But he immediately regrets it as her soft body tenses under his hands.

Do you agree with Nate? Nice talk, wasn't it? 😉

And how do you think Anastasia will react after this 'talk'? I'm sorry for this cliffhanger, especially because I'm going on vacations and won't be able to update for 2 weeks 😬🥺 I hesitated to put this chapter, but I thought it would be a nice treat to make you bear in the meantime (it was a long and intense chapter after all 😉🔥❤) 

I hope you liked it! And don't forget to vote and comment, if you did! 😊

As for the French translations: je le savais = I knew it, Bonjour= hello and Oh mon dieu= oh my god 😁

I love you all, my little rays of sunshine. Can't wait to see you again, and you'll be in my little heart even if I'm away ❤

I leave you a little thought to think about: Nate seems like a really nice, cozy home, doesn't he? 😏