Mom and dad did a good job of herding the rest of the family and guests into the living room, whispering explanations to the parents and giving toys and fake giggles to the children.

I finish wrapping my fork-stabbed hand in light white gauze, which quickly shows the stains of the four tiny indentations. Throwing a football is going to hurt like a bitch for a little bit.

I wince, shaking my hand slightly to numb the pain.

My father comes towards me, running a hand through his previously gelled and greying hair, now a flopping mess. His tie hangs around his neck, undone and sloppy.

"Hey, son." He says with a sigh, gripping my shoulder.

"Hey." I mutter back. "Is Piper still upstairs?"

"Yeah, your mother is standing by the door, trying to get her to come out."

I groan, leaning the back of my head against the cool refrigerator.

"Seriously, he's already done so much to her, why would he come here?" I whisper to him, crossing my arms over my chest.

He sighs, leaning against the wall next to me.

"He's always been like that, since grade school. Whenever he didn't get his way, especially with girls or women, he would snap. I'm scared for Piper's mother, but she refuses to accept our help. Your mother has called the house countless times only to be turned away by that bastard. And this is hurting Piper the most."

"I know." I agree, rubbing my eyes with my uninjured fist. "She really doesn't need this right now, with all that she's been through with her dad, and with her mom remarrying. She's missed more school than she has ever missed. She's strong but he's so awful. It's consuming her." I begin to slide down the fridge, but my father grabs my arm.

"Listen, son. That is your best friend. If she isn't strong enough to save herself then you have to help her onto her feet. That's how I raised you."

I stare at him for a moment. My father is not usually this emotional, or at least when he is he doesn't let it show. 

"Thanks dad." I whisper, and he pats me on the back, giving me a slight nod. I turn up the stairs, and I can hear my mother whispering something. I reach the top and see my mother, sitting on the ground in front of my bedroom door, her eyebrows dipped into a sharp arrow of concern. 

"Hey." I mutter, and she jumps slightly, staring up at me. 

"She won't come out." She whispers, and I pray that Piper can't hear us. 

"Has she said anything?" I ask, raking a hair away from my eyes. 

My mother shakes her head, wringing her hands together against her shirt, which is now wrinkled like the worry lines coating her face. 

I've noticed that worry and fear contort the face, making it appear to be decades older than it is. Some say tribulation gives you wisdom. Bullshit. 

"I'm going to try and talk to her." I place a hand on my mother's shoulder, and she nods, looking towards the stairs. 

"I'm going to make sure everyone downstairs is alright. Good luck, dear." She kisses me on the cheek and then scurries down the stairs. 

And I'm alone, save for the slight whimpering I can hear from the other side of my door. 

I go over, knocking ever so slightly on the wood. 

"I just need sometime alone please, Mrs. H. Please." I hear a croak from the room, and I smile slightly. 

"It's me, duchess. Open up." 

She doesn't respond for a moment, but I don't hear any movement that would indicate she was about to open the door. 

"Piper, please let me in." I whisper, sliding down to the ground, and leaning my forehead against the door. I can barely hear her shallow breathing. The tears in her throat. 

A sniff, and then her voice again. "I'm a mess, I need to be alone, Nolan."

"We both know I've seen you worse. Remember the party?" 

We both freeze, and my mind flashes back to that night. How her eyes lowered to look through her thick lashes, how her hand grasped mine. How beautiful she looked even with black smudged all around her cheeks. 

How if I could relive the night, I would have done it all differently. 

"Hold on." She whispers finally, and I hear a rustle and a scuffle as she stands up, and the click of the door lock. I stand up quickly, ready to bust in. But then I realize that I have to let her do it herself. To allow her the sense of control that she lacks with her family. 

The door creaks open to reveal Piper, her face blotched and red, and black makeup running under her eyes. 

My heart breaks. 

I move towards her, grabbing her and holding her to my chest. Her head presses into me, and I can feel the wetness of her tears dripping onto my shirt but I don't care. Her hands wrap around my back, nails digging into me as she sobs into me. 

I turn slightly to close the door, to allow us some privacy. 

She lets go of me slightly, and I move backwards, watching as the little brunette girl, my best friend, the girl I love, collapses onto the bed in tears, her face stuffed into the pillows. 

"Erm mm ghrd." She mumbles into the fabric. 

"Duchess, if you want to speak, maybe don't strangle yourself with my cushions." 

She looks up at me, and the fiery glare that I know all to well.  

"Don't tell me what to do." She mutters, shoving her face back into the pillow. 

I sigh, shuffling over to her and sitting next to where her head now lays. I reach my hand out, lightly scratching her back comfortingly. I can feel goosebumps rising on her skin from my soft touch. 

The room is silent for a moment as I sit there, waiting for inspiration. The silence is broken by slight sniffles coming from the pillow. 

"Ugh, come here." I groan, grabbing her waist and hoisting her up, causing her to gasp sharply as I settle her down on my lap. I wrap my arms around her, squeezing tightly and reassuringly. 

"Why doesn't she just leave him?" She whimpers breathily, as I continue to stroke her hair lightly.  

"I don't know, love does strange things." I respond shortly. 

That couldn't be more true. 

"That isn't love." She shuffles out of my hold and sits next to me on the bed, wiping underneath her eyes. "Love isn't bred from fear or pain. Love is something that saves you from evil." 

I don't have the heart to tell her she's wrong. 

Because I love her, and that terrifies me more than any linebacker or tackle. 

Short little update because I need a break from studying for this goddamn history test.