💘( The Price of Freedom! )✨

EIGHT 

[ Season Six ]

( 💊🚬🍷💉🏍💸 )

" I never thought I'd feel that again. That rush, the way your heart just kind of...stops whenever you see him. But with Juice, it was like it never stopped. He still looks at me the way he did back then, like I'm the only person in the room. "

~ NESSA TRAGER 

☆《》¤

NESSA'S OUTFIT 

THE MORNING SUN STREAMED THROUGH THE WINDSHIELD OF OPIE'S OLD TRUCK, as Nessa pulled into the parking lot of Charming PD. Donna had allowed her to drive the vehicle until she was able to purchase her own car, saying, 'it's just sitting in the driveway not being used anyway.' Tiny was safely dropped off at daycare, and now, Nessa had a rare window of time to herself. She hadn't seen David Hale in years, but her heart still skipped a beat at the thought of catching up with her old best friend. High school had been a whirlwind for both of them, but despite everything that had happened since, Nessa had always held onto the memory of their friendship—those carefree days of sharing secrets, laughing at nothing, and just being there for one another.

She parked and walked up to the entrance, her combat boots clicking against the pavement. The receptionist behind the desk barely looked up when Nessa walked in, but Nessa didn't mind—she was probably just busy. 

"I need to see Chief Hale," Nessa said, leaning over the counter.

The receptionist's eyes flicked up from her computer screen, "He's in a meeting," she said, barely glancing at Nessa. "Can I schedule an appointment?"

Nessa smiled, trying not to roll her eyes, "I don't need an appointment, trust me. Just let him know I'm here."

The receptionist sighed, but before she could say anything else, the door to the hallway opened, and out stepped David Hale. He paused when he saw Nessa, his brow furrowing in surprise.

"Nessa?!" His voice was a mix of disbelief and joy. "What are you doing here?"

Nessa's face lit up, and without a second thought, she hurried over to him. Before he could react, she wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug, her laughter filling the room.

"Well, look at you, Chief of Police," she teased, pulling back to look him over. "Guess you've got your hands full now, huh?"

David chuckled, his arms lingering around her shoulders for a moment longer than expected, "It's been too long, Messy Nessy," he said, his tone carrying a hint of teasing as he used his nickname for her from high school. "It's good to see you. Really good."

Nessa smiled, stepping back and crossing her arms over her chest, "You always were meant for big things. I'm proud of you, Davey."

He gave her a sheepish grin, "I don't know about that. It just kind of happened. What's been going on with you? How you been?"

She tilted her head, a playful glint in her eyes, "You know, the usual. Raising my daughter, trying to keep my head above water. Figuring life out after prison. But I've got a roof over my head at least—Gemma's been kind enough to let me crash at hers for a while."

David raised an eyebrow, "Gemma? As in, Gemma Teller? Some things never change, I see." 

"Hey, don't get all judgemental on me," Nessa replied with mock-scowl. "Anyway, I was actually thinking of throwing a little BBQ at her place this weekend. You should come."

David hesitated, and Nessa could tell his mind was ticking, "You do realise Gemma's like the queen of bikers, right?" he said, half-joking, half-serious.

Nessa laughed, her eyes twinkling, "Yeah, I guess I didn't think about that. Still, it'll be fun. You're a big shot now; you should come and see how the real people live."

David chuckled and shook his head, "I don't think that's such a good idea, Ness. A bunch of bikers and the Chief of Police sharing a beer might raise some eyebrows."

"Come on, Davey," she urged, nudging him playfully. "In high school it used to be you begging me and Donny to go with you to parties. Or have you forgotten how to let loose? I'll even make sure there's some nice food. I'm pretty good with the grill, you know." 

David smiled softly, his expression growing nostalgic, "Yeah, I remember. You always did throw a mean BBQ."

"Exactly," Nessa said with a grin. "So, what do you say? Just one night to catch up?"

He sighed, clearly torn, "I'll think about it, okay? I can't promise anything, but I'll see what I can do."

"That's all I'm asking," Nessa said, smiling warmly. "I've missed you, Davey." 

David's expression softened, "I've missed you too, Ness. It's been way too long."

They stood there for a moment, both of them lost in the memories of the past. Despite the years that had passed, the distance, the changes—they could still see each other for who they were back then: two kids, with so much ahead of them and all the time in the world to figure it out.

David shook his head with a smile, getting back on track, "So, don't tell me you only came here to invite me to a BBQ." 

Nessa chuckled softly, "Maybe I just wanted to see if you had time to grab a coffee. But by the stink eye your receptionist is giving me, I'm guessing you're a little busy." 

David grinned, "You're lucky I'm a nice guy. Otherwise, I'd be making you do paperwork."

Nessa grinned, "It was good seeing you, David," she said, her tone genuine. "Really good."

"You too, Nessa. Don't be a stranger now." 

"Promise," Nessa said as she turned to leave. 

As she made her way out of the office, her heart felt full. No matter how much had changed since they were teenagers, some things—like the bond between best friends—never did.

12 Years Earlier 

The schoolyard buzzed with the chaos of lunchtime—teenagers laughing, arguing, and gossiping in clusters. At the far edge of the field, away from most of the noise, three best friends sat together under the shade of an old oak tree. David Hale, ever the picture of a boy scout in his neatly pressed shirt, was leaning against the trunk, legs stretched out in front of him as he meticulously polished the watch his father gifted him on his sixteenth birthday. 

NESSA'S UNIFORM 

Nessa, sprawled out on her stomach on the grass, twirled a blade of grass between her fingers, her curly black hair tangled and wild from the breeze. She had a knack for looking like she didn't care about much of anything, but her deep brown eyes betrayed a curiosity that always got her into trouble, "David," she said, her voice teasing. "If you polish that watch any harder, you're gonna make it disappear." 

David didn't even glance up, "Some of us appreciate being on time, Vanessa," he shot back, using her full name like he always did when he was annoyed. "Not everyone can stroll into class fifteen minutes late with a lame excuse." 

Nessa smirked, "It wasn't lame. I had to save a cat stuck in a tree." 

Donna, sitting cross-legged beside Nessa, burst into laughter, "Yeah, sure, and I'm the Queen of England." Donna's laughter was contagious—soft and melodic, like everything else about her. She was the glue that held their trio together, the balance between Nessa's recklessness and David's strict sense of order.

"You don't know," Nessa said with mock offense, propping herself up on her elbows. "That cat could've needed me."

David finally looked up from his watch, raising an unimpressed eyebrow, "More like you overslept and had to throw on whatever was closest."

Nessa grinned at him sarcastically, "Whatever. I look great, and you know it."

Donna rolled her eyes, reaching over to flick a stray leaf off Nessa's shoulder, "You're hopeless, Ness."

"Hopeless? Me?" Nessa gasped, clutching her chest dramatically. "I'll have you know, I'm the life of this little group. Without me, you two would just sit around talking about rules and responsibility."

"Someone has to," David muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched with a smile.

Donna shook her head, her grin widening, "She's got a point, David. Without Nessa, our lives would be pretty boring."

"And without me," David countered, pointing at himself. "You two would probably be in detention every other day."

"Okay, fair," Nessa admitted with a shrug. "But you love it. You'd miss us if we weren't constantly dragging you into our shenanigans."

David's expression softened, his usual sternness melting away as he looked at his two best friends. He couldn't deny it. Even though Nessa's impulsive nature often gave him a headache, and Donna's relentless optimism sometimes made him roll his eyes, but he wouldn't trade their friendship for anything.

"Maybe," he said quietly, glancing back down at his watch to hide his growing smile.

Donna leaned back against the tree, tilting her face toward the sun, "You know," she said dreamingly. "One day, the three of us are going to look back at all this and laugh. These stupid fights, these little moments—they're gonna be the best memories of our lives."

Nessa reached over and grabbed a handful of dirt, and tossing it at Donna, "Stop being so sappy, Donny." 

Donna laughed, swatting the dirt away, "I'm serious!"

"She's not wrong," David said, surprising them both. He glanced up, his blue eyes earnest. "I don't know what's gonna happen after we graduate, but I do know I'll never have friends like you two again."

For a moment, the trio sat in a comfortable silence, the weight of David's words sinking in. Nessa broke it with a mischievous grin, "You're stuck with us, Davey. Forever. Deal with it."

Donna nodded, her eyes twinkling with affection, "Yep. You're our third wheel for life."

David rolled his eyes, but he couldn't hide the smile tugging at his lips, "Lucky me," he said dryly, but deep down, he knew he meant it—he was the luckiest man alive. 

Nessa moved around the kitchen with ease, the sound of laughter and clattering pots filling the air. The kitchen was a little crowded with all the women, but the atmosphere was warm, cozy—almost like home. Gemma, Luann, Lyla, Donna, and Tara were all gathered around the counter, prepping side dishes for the barbecue. Nessa had a hand in chopping vegetables, the smells of fresh garlic, onions, and simmering sauces filled the room, making her stomach growl in anticipation.

It was good to feel this—good to be back in a space that felt like family.

"Thanks again, Gemma," Nessa said, pausing for a moment as she wiped her hands on a dish towel. "I really appreciate you letting me and Tiny stay here."

Gemma glanced over from where she was stirring a pot on the stove, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips, "You don't need to thank me," she replied, brushing it off. "It's been too quiet around here since Clay left. It's nice to have the house full again, especially with the kids around."

Nessa smiled at the mention of Tiny, who was out back playing with the other kids, "Yeah, I think she's starting to get used to it here. And her and Abel get on like a house on fire." 

Tara, who had been quietly chopping vegetables, looked up with a soft smile, "It's good to see her settling in."

The women continued their work, the rhythm of chopping, stirring, and talking weaving together a sort of comfortable camaraderie. Nessa could feel the years slipping away—she hadn't been part of something like this in a while. Her mind briefly wandered back to when she was a teenager, when Gemma's house had felt like the center of her world. It was strange how time worked.

As the conversation continued, Gemma's voice cut through the chatter, "So, how was it? Seeing Juice again?" she asked, her eyes lifting from her task with a knowing look.

Nessa hesitated for a second, her knife poised mid-air as her gaze dropped. Her chest tightened at the thought of him. The pull of memories, emotions—everything she thought she'd buried came rushing to the surface.

"It was like it was the first time all over again," Nessa admitted quietly, her voice betraying the vulnerability she hadn't expected. "When I saw him, it just...brought me right back to when I was sixteen. To the first time I laid eyes on him."

Gemma raised an eyebrow, her expression softening, "First time you saw him, huh?"

Nessa laughed, a little breathless, as she glanced over at Gemma, "Yeah. I was reckless, in love with a guy I barely knew. And we had no idea what we were getting ourselves into."

Luann, who had been silently listening from the counter, chuckled, "Ah, young love. It always makes us do things we're not proud of later."

Nessa's smile faded as she thought about it, "I never thought I'd feel that again. That rush, the way your heart just kind of...stops whenever you see him. But with Juice, it was like it never stopped." She paused, her voice thick with emotion. "He still looks at me the way he did back then, like I'm the only person in the room."

Lyla, who had been casually tossing the salad in a bowl, shot a quick look at Nessa, "Is that a good thing? Or a bad thing?"

Nessa exhaled, shaking her head slightly, "I don't know. I've been so many versions of myself since then, it's hard to reconcile who I was then with who I am now."

Donna, who had been silent up until now, set her knife down, a quiet empathy in her gaze, "You two have a history. That's not something you can just turn off. But you're not that person anymore. You're a mother trying to raise your baby the best you can. That's who you are now."

The kitchen fell into a comfortable silence as the women reflected on Donna's words. It was true. Nessa had changed. She wasn't the naive girl who had blindly fallen for Juice's charm. She had been through too much, had learned too many lessons the hard way to be that girl again.

Gemma finally broke the quiet, her tone thoughtful, "It's hard, I'm sure. Seeing him, remembering what you had, but also remembering what you lost. I know it can be messy." She gave Nessa a sideways glance, her gaze full of understanding, "But you're not alone in this, you know that, right?"

Nessa looked at Gemma, her eyes softening, "I do now. I didn't back then, but I do now. Thank you." She nodded at the women around her. "For everything."

The moment was brief but meaningful, the weight of their shared experiences hanging in the air. There was no need for further words—everyone knew the unspoken connection they had.

Outside, the sound of Bobby's laughter and the sizzling of meat on the grill drifted in through the open window, bringing the warmth of summer into the kitchen.

"You know," Nessa said, breaking the moment of silence with a grin. "I think I might just leave that part of my life behind. It's time I moved forward."

"That's the spirit," Gemma said, her voice firm but supportive. "And when you're ready, we'll be here to help you through it." She leaned over to check on the pot of potatoes, then shot Nessa a sly look, "Now, go grab some of those drinks from the fridge. We'll get this party started."

Nessa's heart swelled at the thought of what lay ahead. Whatever the future held, she knew one thing for sure: she had a family here. And she wasn't going anywhere.

14 Years Earlier 

The rumble of the run-down Ute echoed through the lot as it pulled up outside the clubhouse. It looked like it had seen better days—rust coating the edges and a squeaky door that groaned in protest when it swung open. From the driver's seat emerged a girl, no older than sixteen, her dark hair spilling over her shoulders and a determined glint in her eyes.

Across the lot, Juan Carlos 'Juice' Ortiz was mid-laugh with Jax and Chibs when his eyes landed on her. The world seemed to pause. She was all confidence and chaos wrapped in a leather jacket and torn jeans, and he couldn't look away.

NESSA'S OUTFIT 

Jax nudged him with an elbow, "Hey, Prospect, you're staring."

"Yeah," Chibs added with a smirk. "Why don't you go say hi? Help her out, maybe?"

Juice hesitated, but Jax clapped a hand on his shoulder, "Go on. Be a gentleman."

As Juice reluctantly walked toward her, Jax leaned toward Chibs, grinning, "He's a dead man."

Chibs chuckled knowingly, "Aye, poor lad doesn't know what he's walking into."

Juice crossed the lot, trying to steady his nerves, "Hey," he called out, catching her attention. "You need help with anything?"

The girl turned, her piercing gaze locking onto his. For a moment, she seemed surprised, her expression softening into something playful, "Depends," she said, cocking a eyebrow. "You any good with cars, or are you just here to look pretty?"

Juice stammered, caught off guard by her directness, "Uh...both?" he managed, his lips curving into a nervous smile.

She laughed, the sound light and teasing, "'Juice,' huh?" She nodded toward the embroidered name tag on his work shirt. "What kind of name is that? What, did you run out of good ideas and just pick your favourite drink?"

Juice rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling, "Something like that. So, what do they call you?"

Before she could answer, a familiar growl interrupted them, "Nessa!" Tig Trager stormed out of the clubhouse, his expression torn between exasperation and shock.

The girl—Nessa—rolled her eyes and turned to him, "Hi, Dad."

Juice froze, his stomach sinking. Dad? He looked between Nessa and Tig, dread creeping in as reality hit. The guys across the lot burst out laughing, slapping their knees.

"Reckon he's figuring it out now," Jax said, grinning.

Tig strode toward them, his wild energy barely contained, "What the hell are you doing here?"

Nessa shrugged, leaning against the Ute, "Mum kicked me out. Said I'm too much like you."

Tig sighed, running a hand through his hair, "Jesus Christ."

"Nice to see you too, by the way," Nessa added, folding her arms.

"Inside. Now," Tig ordered, pointing toward the clubhouse. Then he turned to Juice, who was still rooted in place, "Prospect! Grab her damn bags."

"Uh, yeah, sure," Juice stammered, scrambling to obey.

As Nessa sauntered toward the clubhouse with Tig, Juice hurried after them, arms full of mismatched bags. He stumbled over his feet, nearly dropping everything, which only made Jax and Chibs laugh harder.

"Welcome to hell, Prospect!" Jax called out, sniggering alongside Chibs. 

Juice shot them a glare before focusing back on Nessa, who glanced over her shoulder and gave him a smirk.

"Thanks for the help, JuJu," she said sweetly, her tone laced with amusement.

And just like that, Juice knew he was in trouble—not just because of Tig, but because he couldn't stop the flutter in his chest every time she looked his way.

The night was in full swing, the sound of laughter and music drifting in from the backyard where the rest of the club mingled around the barbecue. The grill was sizzling, the smell of charred meat filling the air. Despite the warmth of the evening, there was an unsettling tension in the air between Nessa and Juice. The brief exchange of pleasantries earlier in the night had quickly turned to awkward silence whenever their eyes met.

Nessa was just starting to relax, enjoying the familiar rhythm of the party when Juice's voice cut through the laughter, low and urgent.

"Ness, can we talk?"

Nessa looked up, startled. She hadn't expected this, especially not in the middle of the barbecue. She hadn't expected him to want to talk at all, "Now? Here?" she asked, half-joking to deflect the nerves she could feel rising in her chest.

"Yeah," Juice replied, his voice firm but with that unmistakable edge of desperation. "I need to talk to you."

She wanted to protest, to tell him she didn't owe him anything, but something in his eyes stopped her. Instead, she gave a reluctant nod and followed him away from the backyard, her steps slow, but hers were heavier than his. She knew exactly where they were heading—the old storage shed behind Gemma's house. Quiet. Private. No one would hear what needed to be said. A place that was very familiar to the former couple. It was where they used to sneak off to get high during parties exactly like this one. 

14 Years Earlier 

The party at Gemma's house was in full swing—music blaring, bikers shouting over each other, and the scent of booze and smoke thick in the air. But Juice and Nessa had long since disappeared from the chaos, sneaking off into the backyard like mischievous teenagers.

Well, technically, they were teenagers.

Juice fumbled with the lock on the old storage shed, muttering under his breath, "I swear, if we get caught, Gemma's gonna kill us." 

"Relax," Nessa said, swaying slightly as she grinned up at him. She was already tipsy, the stolen bottle of whiskey tucked under her arm. "Gemma's busy playing den mother to all the drunk idiots inside. No one's looking for us."

With a final click, the lock popped open. Juice shot her a triumphant look before pushing the door open, revealing the dusty old shed. It smelled like oil and old wood, but it was secluded, and that's all that mattered.

"Ladies first," Juice said with a smirk, sweeping his arm in an exaggerated motion.

Nessa snorted and walked in, plopping down onto an old tarp-covered crate. She wiggled around, testing the stability, "Eh, I've sat on worse."

Juice sat beside her, pulling out the small joint he'd swiped earlier, "Alright, let's do this."

As he lit up, Nessa took a swig straight from the whiskey bottle before passing it to him. The warmth of the alcohol settled in her stomach, mixing pleasantly with the lazy buzz from the weed.

For a while, they just sat there, passing the joint and the bottle back and forth, their laughter echoing through the cramped space.

"You remember the first time you ever got high?" Nessa asked, giggling.

Juice exhaled a slow stream of smoke and nodded, "Yeah. Thought I was dying. Kept asking my cousin if he could hear my heartbeat."

Nessa cackled, "Oh, my God, you would totally be that guy."

Juice nudged her with his knee, "Shut up. What about you?" 

She sighed dramatically, "I was fourteen. Stole one of my dad's joints. Thought I was being all sneaky, but Tig caught me mid-hit and just started laughing his ass off."

Juice grinned, "And he let you finish it, didn't he?"

"Oh, hell yeah. Then he spent the next hour messing with me, making me think my feet were shrinking."

They both laughed, their bodies buzzing with warmth and familiarity. The moment stretched, the laughter settling into something softer, something that made Juice's chest ache in a way he wasn't sure he liked.

Nessa leaned back against him, her head resting on his shoulder, "Mmm...'m comfy," she murmured sleepily.

Juice smirked, wrapping an arm loosely around her waist, "You're wasted." 

"Not wasted," she protested, but her voice was thick with drowsiness.

There was a beat of silence before she mumbled, "Love you." 

Juice froze.

Nessa's eyes widened as the realisation of what she just said hit her. Shit. Shit. Shit.

She sat up too fast, knocking her head against his chin, "I—I didn't mean—I mean, I did mean—"

Juice rubbed his jaw, still staring at her like she'd just grown a second head.

Nessa groaned and covered her face, "Oh, God. You're freaking out, aren't you? It's the weed, forget I said anything—"

Juice grabbed her hands and pulled them away from her face, his lips twitching into a small, amused smile, "Nessa."

"What?" she grumbled.

"I love you too."

Her breath hitched, "You do?"

"Yeah," he said, softer this time. "I do."

For once, Nessa was speechless.

Juice chuckled, pulling her back into his arms, "You're cute when you panic."

She smacked his chest lightly, but she was grinning, her heart thudding against her ribs.

They sat like that for a long while, tangled together in the dimly lit shed, surrounded by dust and the lingering scent of smoke. The party raged on outside, but in that little stolen moment, it was just them—drunk, high, and stupidly in love.

Nessa sighed contently, letting her eyes flutter shut, "I love you," she whispered once more, just because she could.

Juice pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his own eyes closing, "I love you too, baby." 

As the door creaked open, Juice stepped inside first, then turned to hold it open for Nessa. She hesitated for a moment before stepping in, her eyes narrowing. The dim lighting barely illuminated the space, but it brought her right back to when she was sixteen. 

"What do you want, Juice?" she asked, her tone sharp. She leaned against a stack of crates, crossing her arms over her chest, bracing herself for whatever was coming.

Juice paced a few steps before stopping, his hands running through his hair in frustration, "I can't keep doing this, Ness," he began, his voice strained. "I've been trying to get past this, but I can't."

"Get past what?" she shot back, her voice tinged with bitterness. "The shit you put me through?"

He winced as if her words had physically struck him, but he didn't back down, "You don't think I know? I was an asshole back then. I get that. But damn it, I'ven been trying to make it right."

Nessa's heart raced, but she was already too far into the conversation to back out, "Make it right?" she laughed bitterly, shaking her head. "You mean after you told me you didn't love me? After you said all those awful things—about how it was just sex, how I didn't belong here, how I was just some dumb kid to you?"

Juice froze, his face falling into an expression of pain as her words hit their mark. He looked like he was physically struggling to breathe. He stepped closer, eyes pleading, "You think I wanted to hurt you, Ness? You think it was easy for me to say those things? I said them because, yeah, you didn't belong here. You deserved better than this life—better than me. I wasn't goanna let you throw everything away for me. But I knew you wouldn't listen. So, the only way to make you leave was to make you hate me."

The words hung heavy between them. Nessa stood there, her breath caught in her throat as she processed what he'd said. Part of her wanted to scream, to demand answers for everything he had done. But another part of her—the part she'd buried for so long—felt something shift. The anger, the pain—it all felt like it was spilling out in front of her, raw and unfiltered.

"You...you hurt me..." Nessa whispered, her voice shaky. "You destroyed me?"

Juice's hands shook as he ran them over his face, trying to compose himself, "I didn't want to, but I didn't know what else to do. You were everything to me, Ness, but I couldn't be selfish I had to let you go. But I was wrong. God, I was." 

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The air between them was thick, heavy with all the things that had never been said. The anger, the betrayal, the longing—it all tangled together, making it hard to breathe.

Finally, Nessa broke the silence, her voice quiet but steady, "Why didn't you just tell me, Juice? Why didn't you just...You cheated on me." And that's when her voice cracked and tears welled in her eyes. 

Juice took a deep breath, his gaze not leaving hers, "Because that was the only way you'd hear me. I knew if you stayed, you'd end up stuck here. Stuck with me. And I couldn't let you do that. You were too good for this life, for me." 

Nessa took a step closer, her heart pounding as she let his words sink in. She could feel the weight of his regret, and a part of her wanted to let it all go, to forgive him for the past. But another part—the part that had been hurt beyond words—still held on.

"I loved you," she said, her voice breaking, the vulnerability slipping through her tough exterior. "And you just—" She stopped, unable to finish the sentence.

Juice reached for her, his voice softer now, sincere, "I know, Ness. I know. And I ruined it. But I never stopped loving you. I just didn't know how to make it right."

Nessa swallowed hard, the weight of it all settling on her shoulders. She wanted to push him away, but she also didn't want to leave him standing there, broken. There was a truth between them now, something that neither of them had the words for, but they both felt it—deeply.

In a quiet surrender, Nessa sighed, turning to sit down on an old crate. Juice slowly joined her, the space between them no longer charged with anger but with something else—something softer, more fragile.

They sat in silence, the hum of the party outside the only sound. Neither of them spoke, but the tension had lifted, replaced by something neither of them could fully define.

When Nessa finally spoke again, her voice was softer, gentler, "I never hated you, Juice. I couldn't even when I wanted to." 

Juice's eyes flickered with something like relief, and he gave her a small, almost sad smile, "I don't expect you to forgive me, but I hope, one day, you can."

The words hung between them, a promise, a plea. Nessa looked at him, feeling the weight of everything they'd both been through.

And in the quiet of that shed, everything—finally—felt like it was being said.

"I love you," Juice whispered, his gaze locked on the back wall. 

"I know," Nessa whispered, linking her fingers with his and resting her head on his shoulder. 

Because at the end of the day that kind of love never truly dies. 

***

Words: 5126