Part Twenty-Three - Part Two

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The familiar skyline of my childhood city emerges on the horizon, and I can't help but let a genuine smile spread across my face. The comfort of home is close, yet a knot of anxiety tightens in my chest. I flash a reassuring smile to Scott, but the unease bubbles just beneath the surface.

"It feels good to be home," Scott comments as we slip into a cab. "Not that I missed it that much."

I nod absently, my gaze fixed on the changing scenery. The suburban streets stretch out before us, but the sight of my empty driveway sends a pang of disappointment through me.

The cab pulls up to our house, and the familiar brick facade stands still and silent. I can almost hear the echoes of my childhood laughter, now replaced by a heavy silence. We step inside, and the scent of home—a mix of aged wood and floral cleaner—greets me, but it does little to soothe my rising anxiety.

I cross the threshold into the living room, my footsteps muffled by the carpet. The house looks untouched, frozen in time.

Pressing the buttons on the console in my hand, I'm laser-focused on the zombie attacking me on the screen. My tongue sticks out of the corner of my mouth as I immerse myself in the game. Scott decides to take a shower, leaving me alone in my room.

The bathroom door swings open, but I barely glance up. Scott sighs dramatically and steps in front of the television, blocking my view.

"Can you please move?" I grumble, craning my neck to see around him while frantically pressing the buttons. "I can't see! I'm going to lose!"

He pouts, clutching his chest as if wounded. "That's sad to hear," he teases, stepping closer and swiping the console out of my hands.

I cross my arms over my chest. "Can you not be so obnoxious right now? You can clearly see I'm not in the mood for games."

Scott leans in, his lips brushing mine in a quick peck. "You didn't want to take a shower with me," he says, his green eyes glinting mischievously. "This is your punishment. And besides, you've been glued to that Xbox since we got here."

Rolling my eyes, I respond, "You need to move now. I'm on the last night of survival!"

"I don't care," Scott retorts, giving me another fleeting kiss. "When are you going to make time for me?"

Despite my efforts to stay irritated, I can't help but smile. I sigh and attempt to push him away, but his solid frame doesn't budge. "Scott, move," I warn, giving him a pointed glare. "And you've spent an entire week with me alone in a damn jungle."

He arches an eyebrow. "If you want me to move, then make me."

Before I can react, Scott catches my hands and gently tosses me back onto the mattress. He removes his tank top, and with a playful grin, lowers himself onto me.

I pretend to be annoyed, but his touch softens the pretense. He cradles my chin, making me look into those captivating green eyes. "You're so cute when you're mad," he murmurs.

"Don't talk to me," I grumble, rolling my eyes.

Scott just shifts his weight to rest fully on top of me. His head nestles against my chest as I run my fingers through his damp hair.

"I love you," he says softly, his words causing my heart to race. He lifts his head and kisses me gently. The softness of the moment wraps around us like a comforting blanket.

The kiss isn't rushed; it's smooth and soft. Scott pulls back to look at me. "I love you so fucking much, Zayn," he confesses. "You have no idea how happy you make me and how I just want to be around you all the time."

My heart pounds against my chest. "I love you too," I tell him honestly, wrapping my arms around his neck. "And you're the only person who can make love to me."

He grins, tilting his head slightly. "Is that so?"

I roll my eyes. "Of course, you idiot. I was thinking we could go on holiday. I mean, I want to go somewhere with you."

Scott thinks about it for a few minutes. "Sure, I think we can arrange something," he responds with a smile. "What do you have in mind?"

"I was thinking Switzerland, maybe?" I ask, uncertain if he will like it there. "Or South Africa..." I trail off. "Oh! And Egypt! I've wanted to go to Egypt."

He hums in thought, then shakes his head. "Nah, I'm thinking Mexico so we can fuck in Spanish."

Unable to contain my laughter, I guffaw and roll my eyes. He's an idiot. But he's my idiot, and I love him so much.

Scott looks at me through his long lashes. "Also, I should paint your toenails because they're so pretty."

I burst out laughing and shake my head. "That's so gay."

He chuckles, cupping my face with his right hand while the other supports his weight beside my head. "We're so gay."

And he kisses me again. In that moment, I know he's all I ever need. I have love in my heart, romance around me, and a boy on top of me who adores me so much. This is love.

I get up from my comfortable place and spot the old phone resting on the side table. Picking up the receiver, my fingers trembling slightly as I dial my mother's number.

The dial tone hums in my ear until my mother's voice breaks through, filled with a mix of relief and worry. "Oh my god! I was worried sick. Where are you, honey?"

Her voice cracks, and I can barely hold back the tears that swell in my eyes. I swallow hard, my throat tight with emotion. "I'm at home. Safe. With Scott. I'm so happy to hear your voice, Mom."

Her sobs are barely contained, a stark contrast to the calm I'm trying to maintain. "Oh, my baby," she says, her voice trembling. "We'll be there in a few minutes."

I hang up the phone, the reality of our return sinking in. Scott's hand slips into mine, his grip firm and reassuring. Together, we stand in the quiet of the living room, the weight of the past month slowly lifting.

As we wait, I wander over to the large window overlooking the front yard. The sky is a fading orange, the sun dipping below the horizon. I watch the shadows stretch long across the lawn, feeling a bittersweet mix of relief and trepidation.

Suddenly, the rumble of an approaching car grows louder. My heart quickens as headlights sweep across the living room walls. Scott glances at me, his expression a blend of anticipation and concern. I return his look, my own nerves mirrored in his eyes.

The front door creaks open, and the familiar sound of footsteps echoes through the hallway. I brace myself, the anticipation of our reunion hanging heavily in the air. The warmth of the evening, the fading light, and the promise of family all blend together, creating a moment that feels both painfully familiar and achingly new.

Jessica and my mother burst into the hallway, their faces a mix of relief and anxiety. But before we can embrace, Jessica's eyes fall on our linked hands, and she abruptly stops, her gaze fixed on us.

She stands there, her expression frozen, as if she's processing a scene from a movie she never expected to watch. The space between us stretches, filled with an uncomfortable silence.

I flush, my heart racing, unsure of how to navigate this moment.

"Jessica..." Scott starts, his voice trembling slightly as he tightens his grip on my hand. "We're in love."

Jessica's eyes dart between us, searching for words that seem to evade her. The silence stretches, laden with the weight of unspoken emotions.

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