Quinn sat in the front room, underneath sun rays highlighting spiralling dust motes. He always knew summer had officially arrived when the fire lay dormant for over a week, and then the thick curtains opened to reveal single glazed windows and the view of undulating hills and trees bowing under the weight of their leaves.
Within his lap sat his new DM notebook where he was plotting the next few sessions. His cooling cup of tea waited patiently for him to come back to the world of the living, but it was his phone that won his attention first. It buzzed on the hard white table, startling Quinn who had been daydreaming about his brotherβs beloved character, Dova, and he glanced over to see a text blooming onto his home screen.
Quinnβs phone was a brick, barely capable of getting on the internet without complaining, and half the time it remained lost in his school bag for days on end. It surprised him to see a text from Mia, and surprised him even more to realise she wanted to see if he was free.
βHey, do you want to go to the arcade place next week? As a date. If you want.β
Quinn had to reread the text a few times to make sure he was right, and then he puzzled over Mia and their friendship. He liked her, but did he like her as more than a friend? Well, wasnβt that what dates were supposed to do?
βSure.β He replied, and then settled back into his fictional worlds.
In the other room, Echo rinsed cake mix off the spatula, drops of water disking off the rounded surface to fleck her thin top. Her husband drifted in beside her. The scent of baking cake filled the room and had snaked its way upstairs where Lukas had been working on his laptop.
βSmells lovely,β he said.
βThank you,β Echo smiled. βIβm trying to perfect the recipe for Shannaβs birthday. I have another month – do you think we can get sick of cake before then?β
βNever,β Lukas smiled, stroking his fingertips down Echoβs arm. βI have been thinking.β
βOh? Iβm intrigued.β
βA holiday. When the children break for the October half-term, we should take them to Italy.β
Echoβs eyes lit up. βOh, thatβll be lovely. I havenβt seen Dadβs family in so long.β
Lukasβ smile became smaller, but brighter. βAnd I think we should tell them there.β
It took Echo a moment to jump onto his train of thought, but the moment she did, her face lit up. The spatula clattered into the sink as she tossed it aside in favour of wrapping her arms around her husband, pulling him to her. His laughter rumbled through his chest and into hers, which was pressed up against him.
She pulled back to search his eyes, and found nothing but a firm commitment to their path.
βThank you.β
βI still think we need to do it carefully to avoid worrying Shanna more. But in the beautiful scenery of Italy, surrounded by family, how could she be scared?β
Echo thought of the beauty of Naples, with the deep blue of the sea cradling houses climbing their way to the foot of hills, colourful houses shining in the sun, salted air fresh and pleasant, and mountains scraping the sky in the distance. Her face warmed at the ball of happiness bursting in her chest as she imagined reintroducing her family to a city they had only visited when young.
βItβll be wonderful, Lukas.β
Lukas glanced over his wifeβs shoulder at the vase and its inhabitant, hoping he had made the right choice in putting this argument to bed. Shanna would be eleven at the end of the school holidays, and already she had grown through most clothes they had bought for her. She would move to high school shortly after, and her excitement of being able to pester Ayr during breaks had dulled her anxiety, and it was hardly like her doting brother would say no to the company.
That his youngest was starting high school after the summer was a fact not kind to his heart, but Lukas still considered himself lucky to feel what it was like to age. He had given up trying to find an exact number for his birthdays, but the growing wrinkles at the corners of his eyes – and complaints of his knees – told him that he was growing old. It was a concept that still managed to humble him, though he was sure that one day it would be nothing but a source of complaint.
For now, the prospect of watching his children grow up was both a source of bittersweet pride. He couldnβt wait to see them start to forge their own path in life.
On the first day of the summer holidays, Isabelle lit up upon seeing the package waiting for her on the breakfast bar. She spun it around right-side-up and ripped open the brown parcel paper. It was granny-wrapped and took her some time to dig her nails in right, but eventually she succeeded and looked down at the second copy of A Quartered Soul Great Aunt Summer had given to the family. Izzy beamed, smoothed her hand over the cover, and slid it into her bag.
She had only seen Kian twice the week before, when steadily making her way through the book. Heβd thawed towards her somewhat, craning his neck to check her progress both times, and the last time had even asked why she hadnβt turned up as often as usual.
βExams,β she’d said with a groan. Sheβd sacrificed reading for pleasure to reading for the curriculum, and had asked if Kian had any exams. Heβd only laughed and returned to his book, giving her no answer at all.
Isabelle beamed as she rounded the corner and saw Kian lying back in the sun, forgoing the tree in order to soak up as much light as possible. His top had ridden up, and a flash of stomach and dark hair could be seen. Isabelle bit her lip and chose not to comment on it.
βDonβt stay comfortable,β she said, in way of greeting. Kian didnβt seem surprised that Isabelle had appeared, instead tilting his head back to look at her upside down. In response to his silent question β a mere quirk of a thin slash of eyebrow β Isabelle pulled the book out of her back and shook it at him.
Kian pushed himself up and spun around on the grass to face her, jumping to his feet with surprising dexterity. Sheβd always pictured him as lazy, slow to move, just like Ayr. But while Ayr was just a typical teenage boy, Kian had the slothfulness of a cat. And just like them, he could move fast when he wanted to.
He tucked his book into the large pocket of his hoodie and walked out of the square without another word. With a roll of her eyes, Isabelle turned on her heel to follow him.
βWhere are we going?β Isabelle asked, after five minutes of walking. She wasnβt overly worried; she knew the town well. There was nowhere that was unknown territory to her.
βMy house, obviously.β
βAnd I have to trust that youβre not just taking me to some dark alley to kill me?β Izzy muttered, looking sideways at Kian. He scoffed and gave her one of the treasured crooked grins, sweeping into a little garden and unlocking the door. Isabelle took the chance to look around, noting that the garden was bare but that the lawn was cut, at least, even if the paving slabs had weeds spiralling up from the cracks. The house was a detached yet squeezed two storey council place (as most houses were, in this town), with freshly painted white windows and harling coated walls. Kian jolted the door open with his hip, grandly gesturing for Isabelle to go first.
She did, slowly. She could smell his usual spearmint gum as she crossed the threshold, glancing at the truly tiny porch which had to be less than two metres squared. She ducked into the house proper and searched around for a light, touching Kianβs hand briefly as he flicked it first. The smell had hit her first β and that was not to say the place smelled bad, but it smelled the same as most other council houses sheβd entered. It was a scent she associated with homeliness, with tight little places where every corner had been given a job out of necessity, where the families used the backs of sofas to leave piles of folded clothes for days and laughed whenever they fell. She smiled involuntarily and took more steps in.
The living room was dull, even as the light took its time warming up, with one faded sofa facing a TV which looked dusty and old enough that by some miracle that it worked, it certainly had an eye-watering carbon footprint. It was clean, and filled everywhere she looked with shelves of books, a laundry basket waiting patiently on top of the armchair to be returned to its rightful spot. She could see the tiny kitchen opposite her, made brighter by its shining white linoleum floor, and a second door presumably led to the bathroom. Isabelle thought of her home, about how this house could fit twice β if not three times β within her building, and how Echo had lovingly decorated every inch before Isabelle had even been born. But this house was loved, too; Isabelle saw it in the pictures tacked to the wall, the placements speaking of being put there by someone who paid no attention to symmetry or how their positioning looked within the room; she saw it in the fairy lights wrapped around some of the shelves, held precariously in place by large books sitting on the wires; she saw it in the box of crochet tools and wool tucked behind the TV, the project presumably creating the cheerfully bright blankets and cushions in the room.
She felt an intrusive hand squeeze her waist and squeaked in surprise, twisting around to glare at Kian.
He wasnβt looking at her, apparently not interested in getting a rise out of her. Instead he nodded at the floor.
βCan you take your shoes off?β
βOh,β Isabelle said, stupidly, and not a little guiltily. βOf course.β She slipped them off and padded further into the house, Kian dogging her heels. A quick look behind gave a sight which surprised Isabelle; Kian wasnβt paying any attention to her, but reaching over to fix the blanket draped over the sofa, something quietly proud about the care he took.
βAre your parents home?β
He cocked his head. For once, it was less to do with his teasing, but more to do with surprise at the question. βI live alone,β he said, and, unbidden, Isabelleβs eyes rediscovered the crochet basket. She tried not to smile, and failed. Kian still looked puzzled. βItβs relaxing,β he said, in a small, defensive voice.
βItβs cute,β she told him, laughing at the disgruntled wrinkling of his nose. βUpstairs? You can say no.β
He shrugged and poked the small of her back to hurry her up, which thankfully gave her the reason she needed to turn away from him. His first answer sunk in. She had thought he was sixteen β seventeen at most β with the sort of shining youth he exuded, but the only person she knew who lived alone at this age was a girl at school who kept to herself, and had been in care until reaching sixteen, when she had to move out. Which meant Kian was parentless, even if the question hadnβt seemingly bothered him.
Isabelle moved cautiously up the narrow staircase, which twisted around on itself to reach the second floor. There were only two rooms; one door was open, inviting Isabelle into a very beige and impersonal bedroom, and before she could ask Kian quirked an eyebrow and threw open his own door.
He didnβt move as she squeezed past him, and Isabelle stared up into his dark eyes as she did just that. The warmth in them made her smile, and she wondered what he saw in hers.
Kianβs room was dark, with the oversized curtains drawn across the small windows. Yet more books littered surfaces, a pile of cushions stacked on his bed in a nest-like way, and it was messy in a way Isabelle expected. She grinned as she thought of Ayrβs side of the bedroom, with clothes tossed around and empty packets of crisps lying dejected near bins. She edged further in and noticed the antique style map of Turkey pinned against the wall.
βAre you from Turkey?β
Kian said what sounded like an affirmative in his mother tongue. He drifted in next to her and looked up at the map. βI left when I was…β He squinted as he tried to remember. βTen, I think.β
βSix years ago?β Isabelle guessed, but as usual she didnβt receive an answer. Instead she reached over to the book sitting next to Kianβs bedside, stopping herself at the last minute in case that was somehow disrespectful. βI didnβt peg you for the holy type,β she confessed.
βPeg me?β Kian repeated in disbelief.
Isabelle spluttered with laughter. βI meant that I didnβt think you were religious.β
βOh.β After a moment of quiet contemplation, Kian shrugged, reaching out to run his fingers lovingly over the surface of the Quran. βI think philosophical is a better word. I donβt believe in Allah, or any God, but I think if people stop getting so caught up about that part of it, religion can be beautiful. And itβs part of my heritage, so I like to follow what I agree with.β
Isabelle fought the urge to lean back against Kian; he was so close she could feel his body heat, and the sturdy presence behind her was just as magnetic as always. She shook herself and stepped forward, turning smoothly so that she could face him.
And that was worse, because the light caught him just right; highlighted that thoughtful part of him Izzy hadnβt been aware of before. It was in the depth of his eyes, the peacefulness over his face.
Heβd joked that she wouldnβt mind him kissing her at the tree the week before, but now more than ever he was right.
She cleared her throat and tried to distract herself. βYouβre talkative today.β
βIβm hoping it earns me a book,β Kian said, playfully, narrowing his eyes at her. Isabelle nodded and reached into her bag, pulling A Quartered Soul out. She handed it over and he took it gently, flicking the pages through his fingers and then opening the front cover to find the blurb. Instead, he found the words that Isabelle had asked Summer to inscribe in the front.
To Kian. I hope your appetite for reading never ends, for in a book, hope can always be found. Summer Williams.
βOh,β he croaked, his lips parting in surprise. Isabelle swore his eyes misted for a moment, but after a quick blink Kian regained his composure. βThank you, Isabelle,β he said, meeting her gaze. For a change the jester in him had been locked away, and in its place he was starkly and sincerely grateful.
He placed the book on his table with care, and reached out to cup Isabelleβs cheeks. He dipped his head and Isabelle froze under his hands, realising what was about to happen β but it didnβt. Kian had paused as soon as he felt her stiffen, giving her the chance to break away, but then Isabelle caught herself.
Why was she resisting this so hard? Yes, Kian was an obnoxious, arrogant boy, but who wasnβt? Sheβd gone further with others that had been harder to put up with than Kian, and wasnβt this exactly what she wanted? She could hardly deny her feelings for Kian, even if part of them were just her wishful thinking that she could have some fairytale romance, so she relaxed under his hands and fisted his hoodie, pulling him closer.
She tasted spearmint gum and relaxed into him, his hands falling from her cheeks to encircle her waist. She realised once they were pressed together that Kian was thinner than she had assumed; his hoodie hid less than sheβd thought, and he was lanky rather than toned, and what surprised her further was that he was less experienced than his attitude had suggested. He was good at taking cues, though, and let her lead, making his lack of skill up with patience and experimentation. Isabelle had no idea how long they stood there for, but when they broke off, her mouth was tingling and sore.
βI think I did promise you a kiss,β Kian said, voice rough.
βLess of a promise, and more of a threat,β Isabelle returned, airily, and the clock behind Kianβs shoulder caught her eye. βOh, shit. I need to get back for dinner.β She frowned, a thought occurring to her. βDo you want to come? Itβs good homemade food…β
Kian looked offended. βI have lamb in my slow cooker. I can cook, twig.β
Isabelle wasnβt sure why she had assumed otherwise; Kian lived alone, apparently crocheted like an old grandma, and if it wasnβt him that had painstakingly painted the windows of his house then she would be truly surprised. βSorry,β she mumbled, curling hair behind her ear. βOne last question.β Kian flicked an eyebrow upward, as Isabelle knew he would. βWhy twig?β she asked, exasperation blanketing her words.
Slowly, Kianβs smirk grew. βOh,β he said pleasantly, βwouldnβt you like to know?β
βI would, thatβs why I asked.β
βI suppose youβll have to find something to trade for the answer,β he shrugged, casually walking out of his room backwards, turning at the last second with the sort of fluid grace she had come to expect, and dropping down the stairs. She groaned and followed him down, slipping her shoes back on and taking another sweeping look of his house. She hadnβt pictured him being so domestic but, she thought, as he crossed over to the kitchen to open the lid of his slow cooker, the smell of cinnamon, fennel, and citrus flooding the room, it was ridiculously hot. Her mouth watered β this time just from the smell β and she wished that she wasnβt expected at dinner.
Unfortunately she had to leave, and forced herself to do just that with some difficulty. She heard his goodbye drift out as she closed the door, wondering if heβd ever bothered to say that to her before. She touched her lips tentatively and grinned, just another stupid, lovesick teenager, and hurried home.
The slow, soothing movements of the swing matched Caraβs drifting thoughts. Underneath the glowing sun she sat picking at the holes in her tights and pushing her feet against the sandy ground. The grass had been marked by countless children dragging shoes over the unfortunate patch until it had become mud, baked into a hard surface whereupon it cracked like limestone.
Her thoughts were aimless, like bobbing boats tied loosely to the pier. She rested her cheek against the burning metal of the chains. Her stomach had been in knots since the morning, and it had nothing to do with her hangover from the party three days ago.
At first, she had been blissful. How weird! Cara hadnβt felt so content in years, and it was hard not to know why. All of her energy had been spent picking Adam up, pushing the bleeding pieces of him together. She knew his heart and it had been broken before sheβd got it, internal strife resulting in the lashing attitude sheβd learnt to weather so well.
But that wasnβt her job! She wanted to help him, yes. And she cared about him – absolutely.
Cara had felt the relief of a weight removed from her as sheβd cuddled up to Ayr that morning, and then sheβd felt the guilt, and the worry, because what had she done but prove Adamβs insecurities right? His mind would warp reality: he wasnβt wanted; he was impossible to love.
And the worst thing was that it was true.
But then sheβd got the text, and her stomach had dropped, and her internal monologue had spiralled into fear.
Ayr turned up whistling tunelessly, and despite her turmoil Cara felt herself smile. She breathed in the warm, flower-heavy air, and stood.
βWe need to talk,β Cara said, feeling her throat tighten. Ayr blinked, his face switching seamlessly from happy to suspicious. There was only one thing that could mean, wasnβt it? βItβs complicated,β she whispered.
Ayrβs eyes dulled. βUh huh.β Theyβd spoken since, of course, but of inconsequential things. It had been a little awkward even though they were both clearly happy, but there had been a sense to their relationship like time had stopped, and when it started again everything would be different.
βI – Adamβs mum texted me this morning.β She chewed on her bottom lip and struggled to keep her eyes from filling. The guilt was different, now. It had an edge of responsibility to it.
It had sparked Ayrβs interest, she could tell, but only because he couldnβt tell where this was going. βYeah?β
Cara sucked in air suddenly too warm. βAdamβs missing. He didnβt come back from Glasgow on Friday.β
βShit,β Ayr said, his eyes widening. βWhat – I mean, do they know -β
βHe was seen at the station.β She wiped at tears with shaking hands. βI donβt – he hated his dad, but he wouldnβt have left without saying anything. And I know – I know what heβs like, and these past two days have been so nice, but I canβt just – what if he comes back and heβs – he might need me.β
βAnd we can be there for him if he wants, but that doesnβt mean anything between us has to change.β
βIt does, though!β Cara wailed, covering her face with one hand and hugging herself with her other. βHeβs going through hell, right now, and he canβt just come back and find that Iβve abandoned him.β
βWhat if they donβt find him?β Ayr asked, hurt and hormones overriding better sense.
Cara shook with a powerful sob. βGod, Ayr, I donβt know! The only reason we got together was because he didnβt turn up and he would have if -β
The retort was sharp. βThe only reason?β
βWhat?β
βSo your shitty boyfriend didnβt turn up and you were mad at him so you decided to sleep with me instead? As if this was out of character for him. Heβs got a track record of dropping you when it doesnβt suit him to have you hanging onto his arm – and thatβs the only reason? Thanks.β
βNo – Iβ¦ I didnβt mean – you canβt just talk about him like that. Heβs missing! He might be – be – gone.β
βThat doesnβt magically erase how much of an asshole he was!β
βHe had good things too!β Cara yelled back. Tears dried and gave way to cheeks flushed with anger. βYou were just always so jealous of him that you didnβt want to see that.β
Ayrβs jaw snapped shut, painfully, and then with deliberate slowness he said, βCara, he took every opportunity to put me down for my dyspraxia. Why the fuck should I look past things like that to try and find the diamonds amongst the shit? You were so blinded by wanting to fix him to realise that to do that you should have been challenging him, not indulging him. You know how much that hurt me. So fuck him, and fuck you, and now Iβm going to go home. Donβt text me.β
Ayr turned on his heel to go, snatching his hand back from Caraβs insistent grip as she reached out to stop him.
βAyr, please,β she sniffed, her voice wobbling, but he ignored her and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. His eyes burned but he blinked tears away as best he could, biting down on his lip to stop it from shaking. He couldnβt even begin to analyse how he felt; he just hurt. Trying to find the source of the pain was impossible; it was a spiderweb of inciting incidents that linked and spiralled in a complex pattern.
Heβd never argued with Cara like this, and heβd always swallowed down his hurt whenever she would defend Adam. But to have felt like they finally understood each other and then to realise that they werenβt on the same page – not even the same book – was like his heart had just got ripped out alongside the remains of his dreams.
My poor bb Ayr ;_;
Oh, Iβd say that Kian and Isabelle donβt also dominate next chapter, but that would be a total lie π
So, this one is practically all about issues of romantic nature that the siblings are dealing with. Even Quinn is going on a date! Woah, I wonder how it’s going to go.
They are going to tell them! Freaking finally. I really worried, and still do a bit, that they would find out before they’d managed to reveal it.
Ah, Izzy is such a lovesick teenager, as was even mentioned in the narrative. Though I get her. It’s annoying how attractive arrogant boys can be, especially for teens! But Kian’s self-confidence and such seems a bit fake to me. I feel like he’s much more deep, seeing how he reads a lot, thinks of psychological matters, and even that he is inexperienced. But he’s being mysterious. I look forward to finding more about him.
Ah, and the last scene. Damn, I really feel like Ron and Ayr could have a long talk about their failed relationships and trying to get the girl back π I feel sorry for him, but I can understand Cara, too. It’s not really good to break up at the time like that.
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Gotta get those balls rolling, as it were π
Lukas finally caved! He’s non-confrontational by nature, so I’m surprised it took him this long.
She is! She really wants that fairytale romance. Unfortunately, real life just… isn’t always like that. She hasn’t learned this yet, and maybe she won’t. We’ll see!
Honestly Kian is one of my favourites. He really came alive. You’ll see some more of it next chapter!
Haha I feel like they would. You know that would be quite fun – a short group roleplay where we write our characters meeting… Maybe I can set up one after the next game night.
Yeah, I don’t think either of them are right or wrong, though I don’t think it’s nice of Cara to take Adam’s side on the bullying. I had a friend who did that for some time, and it hurts A LOT. Even though Ayr sort of understands, because he knows Adam and what he goes through, it’s still not acceptable behaviour.
Thanks for reading, as always β€
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Your pictures look so great in this one! I mean, they always do, but there’s something striking about these. Don’t know what it is, they just look fab. π
I knew I already liked Mia, but her very direct way of asking Quinn out is great. π she’s very no-nonsense and as much as I love all the romantic nonsense that happens often, I think she’s refreshing!
Ah, it’s a good thing Lukas and Echo are going to tell the kids. They’re smarter than Kane, lol. π (Not that I didn’t already know).
I can understand why you want to write more about Isabelle and Kian. π They’re great! I agree with Jowita that it seems he’s deeper than just the arrogance and sarcastic attitude. Like, don’t tell me he didn’t enjoy that kiss – it seems he did. π
And poor Ayr’s situation is even more crappy. π¦ Poor Cara, as well. It’s true it’s not her responsibility to take care of Adam, but it’s no wonder she’s upset when he’s missing. That really just adds to the shitty situation.
This was so great, Carys. π
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Thank you!! My game was running beautifully so I really tried to think about shots. Can’t say the same about the next one, idk why the lag is suddenly a thing! Especially because I was playing in configuration mode on Reshade and now I’ve changed it… weird!
She absolutely is! I’m glad you picked up on that, because I still feel like she’s not overly fleshed out. I’m working on it though π
Haha, Kane is an idiot, you’re not wrong there π
Oh he did π There’s a lot to him, absolutely. We’ll find out more next chapter π
Yeah, it’s really not a good sitch here. And you’re so right – it’s not her responsibility. Funny how many girls think it is, hmm?
Thanks for your lovely comment β€
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I’m with Lukas on the cake thing. There is no way to get sick of it. haha
I’m so glad they’re finally going to tell the kids.
Something about Kian crocheting like a grandma cracks me up but doesn’t seem impossinble either. π I think there is more to him than meets the eye and I’m really curious about him and Izzy.
I’m so sad for Ayr. That really stinks big time.
Carys, your pics are amazing! Just wanted to let you know how much I like them. π
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Unless they’re baked badly π
About time, right?
He is a very peaceful person! Watching british comedies and crocheting is his happy place. It’s legit why I gave him quite a crisp accent; most people who learn english have quite an american accent, because there’s just os much more american media, but I went the opposite route for him π
Thank you!! That means so much β€ Thanks for reading, as always β€
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Woot!! π I can’t tell you how excited I am about Quinn and Mia’s date! I don’t know why, but I already ship this couple soooo so much! β€
Kian is really intriguing as a character, and I will agree with everyone that it looks like he's so much more than he initially appears. It doesn't seem that he's going to make it very easy to Isabelle though, lol! But I agree with Louise, there's no way I'll believe he didn't enjoy that kiss π
Poor Ayr… I can understand him, but I can understand where Cara is coming from too… Adam is an asshole, but I really hope he's not dead. Hmmm maybe it has something to do with those vampires? :O
I'm all caught up! Yay!! ^_^ Well, it's also bad for me, because I really want to know what happens next now, lol! It was great, and I'm looking forward to what's coming next! π β€
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Yes, I love that! They’re going to have a fun date, I assure you π
I’ll say no more on Kian except we’ll learn a bit more about him next chapter.. and he did enjoy that kiss, that’s fore sure π
Ohh interesting thought! Who knows how close the vampires are to the family? I like the idea π
Haha, sadly it’s still over a week till the next chapter, if I have the data to upload it (because I’m on a mobile hotspot in my new place atm!) but fingers crossed it won’t be delayed π
Thanks for commenting β€ β€
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Yes, Mia! I can’t wait for their date.
Aww I’m glad Echo and Lukas have finally agreed. I’m glad Lukas didn’t keep her in suspense any longer.
I think I’m the only one annoyed with Kian. π But it’s slightly creepy to me that he brought Isabelle to his house alone and wouldn’t tell her how old he is. She’s 16, and I really hope he isn’t much older than that. He is opening up to her a little, but still wants to play games.
The Ayr and Cara situation is just ugh. Hooking up with someone in a relationship is never a good idea, and they never made an agreement that she would break up with Adam. I don’t think either of them is right or wrong. Ugh.
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Well, it’ll be coming tomorrow π
Yeah, I think Lukas has realised she’s not going to let it go!
Oh this an interesting take! Yeah I definitely didn’t think about this. The reason why Kian didn’t answer will be mentioned at some point, but I’ll tell you now that he’s only a little older than Isabelle. Probably 17 and a half. Hopefully the new chapter will pleasantly surprise you π
Yuuuup, not a good situation. But hey, they’re teenagers. We’ve all done stupid shit!
Thanks for reading β€
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Yeah, this was expected after what happened between them. And considering Adam still in the picture somewhere… they are in a situation.
I feel like Kian is on the run himself. The whole “living by himself, kind of a loner” thing.
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Oh yeah, a very bad situation..
You’ve got good instincts! First calling Shanna’s nightmares and now this!
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How the triplets are experiencing love and loss. I am excited to learn more about Kian. He seems like such a bad boy, but one loves to crochet. π
Yes Mia, go get your date! I love that she is the one that finally stopped waiting for him to get the hint, and just asked him out!
But poor Ayr, I am really hoping things would work out with Cara.
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He’s a walking contradiction! Okay, not really, he’s not actually a bad boy at all π
Hahah she’s had enough with dense boys!
Yeah, he hopes so too…
Thanks for reading π
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Hmmm, Kian sure is touchy but it is hard to pin him down. He seems anti-social or rather reserved but he’s willing to let her in. I guess we’ll have to see how it goes! I love how you give us tidbits into who he is though, I feel less cautious about him at least!
Poor Ayr T_T
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He’s a mystery to Isabelle – but there are reasons why he’s the way he is!
I know
THanks for reading β€
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Haha Mia’s direct way of asking Quinn out was so refreshing to read! I like how she was the one to ask him, too. And how he was just like ‘okay’ and sunk back into what he was doing cracked me up. They seem like a good match for each other.
I love the way you described Kian’s council house, picking out the tiny, ‘normal’ details that would usually be brushed over and making them sound somehow magical.
Kian really has the strangest vibe of a character I’ve ever read. In a good way, I think, in a sort of mysterious, otherworldly way. He seems aloft and disconnected from the grounded reality of Isabelle, but we’re starting to see deeper layers. It’s very interesting to read.
“I would, that’s why I asked” GOLD π€£
Big yikes on Cara and Ayr’s situation. I totally agree with Ayr, that he shouldn’t have to look for the goodness ‘deep down’ when Adam’s so horrible, and that Cara shouldn’t have indulged Adam all this time. I can see how difficult it must be for Cara, though. What a terrible situation π
Great chapter! Hopefully I can speed up with getting up to date!
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she’s a direct gal! If she waits around for Quinn, nothing will ever happen haha.
I loved writing all the parts with Kian. I did it pretty much all in one and can never recapture his personality like I first wrote!
Yeah, Cara is not making the smartest choice here…
Thanks for reading β€
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