Time marched on, as it always does. Luke, Ashton, Calum and Michael had yet to meet Fern and Tillie, but that didn't make them oblivious to their existence. Quite the opposite, in fact. Luke spent much of his time on the laptop, watching the feed, slowly falling. As for Tillie and Fern, they lived their lives as if no one was watching, quite oblivious to the fact that their lives would soon be changed by the very people who watched them.

~Fern's POV~

I believe in a lot of things, and when I believe, I believe with my whole heart, soul, and mind. One of the many things I believed was this: Time and love are unstoppable forces, and it is best to surrender to that fact. No amount of pleading or prayers would change that. A fact that was staring me in the face at this very moment.

"Fern!" I jumped, accidentally stabbing myself with a stray pin. "What, Tillie?" I sucked on my finger, the pain already fading even as my annoyance rose. "Can you help me find my bracelet?" I growled, biting my pricked finger in doing so, which only increased my anger. "No, actually, I can't. I'm a bit busy SEWING YOUR DRESS." I shouted the last bit, unable to believe how selfish she was being. I had taken money out of my account and time out of my week to make her this dress, and now that the event was only a few days away, she was getting anxious. And the way she conveyed her anxiety was by hovering and freaking out and generally getting in my way, which is how we had ended up here.

"But I can't find it." Tillie whined, grating my nerves raw. I hated whining, it was unproductive and aggravating. "Maybe if you weren't so messy, you'd be able to!" I snapped, and sat back on my heels, pulling the ponytail holder from my hair as I got up. Intertwining my fingers atop my head, I strode towards the kitchen in the hopes that food would soothe my irate mood. However, that plan was immediately foiled by Tillie herself barging into the room. "Fern, what are you doing?! You wouldn't help me because you wanted a sandwich?"

Now, I love Tillie dearly. She is my sunshine when life threatens to drown me. But at those insensitive words, I snapped. "What am I doing?! What are you doing? Standing there, complaining like a toddler, crying because you can't find your stupid bracelet while I'm here sewing your dress, which I paid for. I don't need your permission to eat the food I paid for!" I advanced on her, anger blurring my senses. Glaring, she opened her mouth to reprimand me, but I wasn't in the mood. Picking up my sandwich and my phone, I brushed past her. I needed some fresh air before I broke something.

The universe wasn't having it, however, as was proved when Tillie grabbed my shirt from behind and spun me around to face her. Aggravation lit her blue-grey eyes, and I knew that she was about to let me have it. Pride lifted my chin a notch as I waited for her to begin her tirade. As the silence dragged on, I began to notice little things, like how her hair was little frizzy on one side, and the lines in her forehead, and the bags under her eyes. Suddenly my eyes locked on a small bruise on her shoulder, exposed by a shift of her shirt.

Reaching out a hand, I put my hand over it, drawing her into my arms for a hug. All the anger drained out of me as I held her, and I realized how close I'd come to saying something truly regrettable. "What are you doing Fern, this isn't how a fight is supposed to go." She pushed out of my embrace, but her eyes were no longer firery so I turned my attention to the bruise. "How did you get that? And why do you look so tired?" I queried, fingers unconsciously brushing over her face and shoulder. She stood straight, not leaning into my touch as she often did.

"It doesn't matter, does it, Fern? Clearly my childish behavior is too much for you, clearly my existence is bothering you. Go ahead. Leave." She sounded so tired as she pushed my hand away, and it fell limply to my side as I stared at her. But as she turned away, sighing, I realized that I deserved it. I had yelled at her over petty things, and then tried to leave before she could defend herself. Turning, I sighed as I headed towards the door, hands still shaking a little.

Closing the door quietly behind me, I leaned against it and hit my head, once, against the ungiving wood. A noise from down the hall drew my attention, but I was too weary to do more than turn my head. When I did, I saw someone walking towards me, hands tucked in their pockets. "Take a walk with me." They invited, inclining their head towards the stairwell. Quickly going through my pitifully limited options, I shrugged and fell into step beside them. "I'm Max." They extended their hand, pushing open the door to the stairs with the other hand. "Fern." Shaking their hand, I admired how firm and calloused their hand was. Just like mine.

They nodded, and as we descended the stairs in silence, I studied their profile. From the short curly hair to the eyeliner to the strong jaw, they had the androgynous look down, so much that I couldn't tell for sure what they were. "You're gorgeous, you know that?" The words slipped out, and I blushed a tiny bit before realizing that I had meant it. They chuckled, flashing me a cute smile that revealed a dimple on the left side of their mouth. "Thanks Fern. I'd return the compliment, but you aren't the gorgeous type, are you?" I halted, not sure if that was an insult or not. Noticing that I had stopped, they walked back up to my level, taking my chin in their hand to turn my head from side to side. "You're more of the natural type, Fern. Beautiful."

I tilted my head, staring quizzically at this strange creature. "You act as if you know me." I drew the words out, turning the idea over in my mind. Before I could think it through, I threw my arms around the stranger, pulling them flush against my chest. I just needed a moment of comfort, of oblivion; a moment to feel and not think. Their warm hands grasped mine, giving a gentle squeeze as they drew away. I blinked, not sure if I, Fern, had just hugged this stranger. They laughed softly, rubbing their thumbs across the backs of my hands as I processed what had just happened. "How about we get some coffee before we finish that conversation."

I nodded numbly, barely registering that they had dropped my hands until they began to descend the stairs. I followed, my mind replaying the scene of their hug over and over again. Why had I done that?

Why had they hugged me back?

Shaking my head, I hurried after them, pushing the swirling thoughts to the farthest corner of my mind for now.