My uploads aren't planned. I just write when I want to; when my inspired side comes out.

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Dylan's POV

I didn't know how to feel; my mind was registering multiple emotions at the same time. However, anger  took over all the others. How could someone's parents mess them up so bad that they would react like this?

I suddenly knew what to do. I won't tell her the truth yet, though I'll reveal it later, at the right time. I need answers too. And I'll get them.

Approaching her, I gently put my hands on her shoulders and started massaging them. 

"I won't tell them."

This seemed to calm her down, wiping the tears off her cheeks before sniffling softly. 

"Really?" Those eyes. Fuck.

I nodded. What she did next surprised me. She threw her arms around my waist, hugging me. Cute.

Slowly, I reciprocated her actions, her smell engulfing me. Hmm, roses.

She pulled back, cheeks bright red, eyes glued to the floor, her arms going around her body yet again, a sign that she was shy.

"Sorry, I-"

At that moment, we heard footsteps coming down the stairs, meaning they must have decide we've had enough time alone, after I've signalled them to leave. Though she didn't seem to notice, and I certainly didn't take my eyes off of her.
I don't understand why she would want to hide herself though; from me nonetheless. This just confirmed what I was already sure about. She has no idea of the shit going on. None.

"Ah, seems like you kids are getting along? Amelia, I hope you didn't do anythi-." her father started, but I cut him off.

"She didn't do anything." I snapped no one daring to say anything after that.

Eventually, her mother cut the silence.

"Why don't we all sit down and chat for a while, before we eat. It's still quite early for dinner."

We all did just that, everyone taking their place on the grey sofa, her father sitting down on one of the grey armchairs. There was only one grey armchair left, slightly further away from the others.

Amelia started heading into the dining room, "I'll just go grab a-"

However, she was interrupted by her father.

"Nonsense, I'm sure Dylan wouldn't mind sharing the armchair with you, since it's fairly large, would you?" he turned to me.

The corners of my lips lifted up; I can see where this is heading.

"Of course he wouldn't mind!" My mother cut in before I could utter a word, shooting me a look that said Don't disagree or else! 

Fine. I'll do this their way; let them have their fun. Then I'll have my fun. I'll get my answers.

Seemingly hesitant, and confused, -or is it shocked?- Amelia walked over to the armchair I was already sitting on. While everyone started their conversations, Amelia stood uncomfortably in front of me. She was waiting for me to move up. Hmm. Time for some fun.

"Uhm, uh... can you, um.. can you move up please?" she mumbled, eyes stuck to the floor, cheeks once again crimson red.

"What was that?" I said, amused though not smiling, even though I heard her perfectly the first time. From the corner of my eye, I saw James watching us discreetly.

"Can you," she cleared her throat, still not looking up, " move up please?"

I admire her for her courage.

"Oh, sure. Where are my manners?" I kept my eyes on her as I made space for her to barely fit in.

So there we were; everyone else talking like old friends, and the two of us, well, hmm...

Her sitting half on my lap, resembling a very attractive tomato, and me sitting there, one arm lazily draped over the armchair, like the smug bastard that I am.