She jumps up, ready to defend herself. "Vic, I-I-I can explain..." I shake my head, a smile on my face and walk over to her, wrapping her tense body in a big comforting hug.

"Shhh" I say softly, stroking her coconut scented hair "It's okay, I don't need an explanation, it's okay" I kiss the top of her head and pull back, her expression is twisted into a frown.

"Oi, no frowning" I say brushing my thumb over her crinkled eyebrows, straightening them out. I brush my lips against hers, just ever so slightly. "Here, go get ready, I'm taking you somewhere"

She raises an eyebrow and smiles brightly "Where?" She asks with all the excitement of a little child at Christmas.

"It's a surprise! But please go take off those reindeer pjs, they're an insult to the human eye" I screw my face up in distaste, half joking, half not.

"Hey!" She hits my arm playfully "These are my sympathy pjs" she pouts

"Oh woe is me" I put the back of my hand against my forehead, acting dramatically which earns me another hit in the arm

"You're a jerk" she laughs and quickly pecks my lips before exiting the room.

---

"How much further?" She whines—but not in that annoying way that most girls do.

"Not far, hang in there athletic one" I laugh, her face is a cherry color and she's panting as if we've ran a marathon or something when all we've done is walk a few miles or so.

"I'm going to slap you so hard when we get to our destination" she pants

"If you make it that far without exploding" I laugh and she shoves me playfully sticking her tongue out at me.

This feels carefree. This feels right in a way things haven't for a while.

*Hazel's POV*

The air is thick with tension you can slice with a knife. I wait for him to speak, to say anything. I expect the worst of course, for him to scream at me and tell me I killed my parents and that I'm a bad person—all the things I already know.

"Your parents were in the car?" He whispers, I can tell he already knows the answer. I look at my lap, trying to be strong, trying to not let him see me cry and I nod my head, yes my parents were in the car.

Here it comes—I think—here comes the yelling, name calling, the hate, he's going to leave, I'm going to lose him. And I deserve it.

He lets me sit here for a few moments and then he surprises me by saying

"I know you think it was your fault, but as an outsider, I don't think it was" his voice is even and strong and my heart flutters, he doesn't think I'm to blame. I still think it is my fault of course, but its nice to hear someone that does not blame me.

"I stood there, with no clue it was them, waiting for them to run me over, waiting for them to kill me, and it ended up the other way. How did it end up like that, Vic? I killed them, me, their daughter, I killed them" he shakes his head as I speak, like he's dismissing my words, like he doesn't believe them at all. He doesn't speak, just rises gracefully to his feet and comes over to me, wrapping me in his strong tan arms and letting me just get the pain off of my chest. That's what it was, that's what it always came down to.

Pain.

And to think the first time he met he must have thought I was the happiest person ever, and now? I'm so weak he probably thinks I'm such a mess - he's not wrong if that is what he's thinking.

It's so messed up.

He tells me its okay and I realize I must have said that out loud instead of thinking it.

"I'll get you some tissue, where's your restroom?" He asks softly

"Down the hall, to the left" I say monotonously and he kisses the top of my head and leaves the room.

I fix my outfit while he's out of the room, cursing myself for wearing my pjs and not getting changed before he came over, I must look so disgusting. I hated these pjs. Deers decorated the pants and a big fat sleepy cat decorated the shirt, they aren't matching pjs, no but they're my sympathy pjs. What I wear when I feel sorry for myself. I think to all the clothes that occupy my closet. The floral patterns, the high waisted shorts, the pretty dolly shoes, the endless amount of pink. Ew none of it was really my style at all.

But I know being me isn't an option.

He's gone longer than necessary and I begin to panic, assuming the worst (I'm a girl, we over think okay sue me) I bite my lip hard, hoping he hasn't ran for the hills.

I begin nervously twiddling my hair around my finger and it makes me hate myself even more. Platinum blond hair, I never wanted it an it isn't natural either, I wish it was though, so I don't have the sheer embarrassment of admitting I dyed my hair platinum blond.

I wish it were black.

"Here" Vic hands me some tissue and I wipe my eyes after thanking him and then wipe my nose. It's silent, a nice silent, one I could quite happily close my eyes and revel in.

"So you like Pierce The Veil?" The silence shatters into a million pieces and my mouth hits the floor with a thud. I'm pretty sure my face displays my infinite horror.

Oh fucking hell no.

*Vic's POV*

"Pass me a can of coca cola, please" I ask without opening my eyes. Hazel sits up and I can almost hear her rolling her eyes at my demand, then I feel the chill of the coca cola can on my arm and I wince at the temperature. I swipe it from her hand quickly and prop myself up on my elbows, opening the can awkwardly.

"You know, you're probably the only person in the world that says coca-cola" she laughed, rolling onto her stomach on the picnic blanket and leaning on her elbows, looking at me with an amused expression.

"Well what does everyone else in the world call it then?" I enquire, taking a loving sip from the can, enjoying the fizzy liquid sliding down my oesophagus. The sun is bright and hurting my eyes and I return my sunglasses to my face, protecting my precious eyes from the blinding light.

"Coke. Or cola." She shrugs, rummaging through the picnic basket and withdrawing a Twinkie, her eyes lit up

"That's redundant" I shake my head. This felt good, right. Laying on a blanket, in the middle of a vacant field, laughing, eating food and watching the day pass slowly. There is something extremely corny and cliché about it, but that doesn't bother me.

"So, tell me something about you" I say laying back down, flat, and closing my eyes.

"I just opened up to you in my kitchen, I think that's enough for today" she laughs

"I feel as if I don't know you though, I feel like I know a whole other you that doesn't really exist, you're so good at pretending" I pat the place next to me where she lays, searching for her hand, when I find it I give it a firm squeeze. I open my right eye slightly, peeking at her through the gap in my eyelids, a smile is painted artistically on her lips, which makes me smile too.

"Just one little thing" I press, hoping it'd work.

"Ugh fine" she groans, rubbing her face with her hand. "I don't know how to tell you this..." She goes on "I'm really a male flying slug" she says seriously and looks at me with the most serious I'm-not-kidding expression and I can't contain my laughter, I laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh wondering how she kept a straight face for so long.

She joins in with my laughter, like a song she knows off by heart. This felt right. Lighter, happier.

This was happiness.

Notes

Okay so if you all haven't died from old age and are alive and still kicking.
My sincerest apologies for making you wait like fifteen days.
I don't think this chapter is worthy of hey-I-left-you-on-a-cliff-hanger-for-fifteen-days-without-updating-oops kind of comeback but I did my best.

Feedback is appreciated

This story will be ending soon, but there's still a fair few chapters to go so don't worry :)