FNL fic: "Safe"
I wrote this after watching the season premiere, although the idea had been in my head since I read the spoilers. Finally, got it down on paper and with the help of my wonderful beta, now, have a finished product.
Title: Safe
Pairings/Characters: Tyra, Tim, Billy, Landry, Tyra/Tim
Spoilers: Through Episode 2x01
Rating: PG-13 (for some violence)
A/N: A huge thanks goes to my beta
leobrat - you are awesome!
Summary: This is my take on how the Tyra/Landry incident in Episode 2.01, so it's AU...kind of.
This couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t really be here, in front of her, talking to her again.
She had put this behind her. She had put him behind her. And now, he was here, slowly moving towards her, and she was frozen.
“What are you doin’ here?” Her voice was quiet, controlled.
She stole a quick glance toward the store entrance, searching for Landry, but didn’t see him. She didn’t see anyone.
“Don’t touch me,” she yelled, as his hand came to rest on her arm. She pushed him away, “Don’t you touch me.”
“Oh, you wanna get rough,” his voice was low, threatening, as he grabbed her and slammed her into the side of the building.
A sharp pain ran through her as her head connected with hard metal. She began to hit him; his face, his stomach, anywhere she could land a punch.
But he was too strong. He grabbed her and flung her to the ground.
Tyra heard footsteps and then Landry’s voice, as she watched Landry tackled him from behind.
“Get off of her,” she heard him yell, as he landed a punch to the man’s gut. But Landry wasn’t a fighter, and the man landed a powerful upper cut which knocked him to the ground.
Tyra screamed, and began to run, but two arms grabbed her from behind.
“No,” she screamed, “Landry!”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Landry grab a long metal pole from the ground. Fear gripped her.
“Landry,” she yelled, as the man flung her towards his car, and turned towards Landry blocking the pole with his hands and bringing it down to shove Landry to the ground. She watched as Landry’s head hit the ground, and he didn’t move.
“No,” Tyra screamed. She launched at the man’s back; pulling his hair, kicking and punching him. He flung her off his back, and turned towards her.
But before he could take another step towards her, a hand landed on his shoulder and spun him around, a fist connecting with his face, then his stomach.
Tyra watched as her attacker fell to the ground groaning and clutching his stomach. The man slowly tried to rise and move towards his car, but Billy Riggins blocked his path.
Billy hauled him up on his feet, “Where do you think you’re goin’?” he asked menacingly, shoving the man towards his truck. Rummaging in the back he pulled out a long rope.
The man stared at him wide-eyed. Billy just grinned at him. Her attacker tried to run away but Billy grabbed his shirt and pulled him back, landing another punch to his gut, before twisting the man’s arms around behind his back and tying him up, then tying him to the back of his truck.
Then grabbing a shotgun out of the back of his truck, he stared at the man.
“You’re scum, man,” Billy spat, examining the gun. Tyra’s breath caught in her throat.
“Billy, no!” Tyra yelled, not sure just what he was going to do. She knew Billy had grown up in a violent house; that he didn’t stand for anyone hurting the people close to him.
He just held up a hand towards her.
Tyra watched Billy, her mind trying to grasp what had just happened. Rising slowly to her feet, she called out again, “Billy, please, don’t.”
Walking slowly toward him, Tyra reached out her hands, tears streaming down her face, “Billy, he’s not worth it.”
With his shotgun in one hand, Billy turned toward her though his eyes never left her attacker, “Go call the police, Tyra.”
Grabbing her phone out of her jeans pocket, she made the call, her fingers shaking as she dialed.
As she hung up, she suddenly remembered Landry. Turning toward where he had fallen, she ran to his side.
“Landry,” she called, her voice hoarse.
Tyra saw his head move slightly and his eyes blink open. She sighed in relief.
“Billy,” she called, and noticed Billy already heading in their direction.
Together, she and Billy helped Landry sit up, as sirens blared in the distance.
After the police arrived, everything became a blur. Tyra was questioned and checked-out by the paramedics, although she resisted at first.
She didn’t want anyone touching her. She just wanted to get out of there.
Landry was taken to the emergency room because he had suffered a concussion, and the police took her attacker away in the back of a police cruiser.
While the police questioned Billy, Tyra slipped away into the shadows, needing to get away from the accusing looks and probing questions.
Walking to the other side of Billy’s truck, she leaned back against the cool metal. Closing her eyes, her breathing became labored as her emotions flooded to the surface. She buried her head in her hands and slumped to the ground as her knees gave out.
“Tyra,” a familiar voice called to her.
“Tyra,” the voice said again, and she turned her head to look at the person who was slowly walking towards her.
Billy. Tyra gave a sigh of relief. She brought her hand to her mouth, everything from the past few hours flying through her head.
“Tyra, look at me,” she heard Billy say, his voice near.
She watched as Billy knelt down next to her, and reached out towards her. She flinched at his touch, and he drew his hand away slightly.
“Hey,” Billy whispered soothingly, “It’s okay, now. No one’s going to hurt you now.”
She felt his hand softly stroking her hair, and she slowly leaned into him as a flood of new tears began streaming down her face.
Billy caught her in his arms, and wrapped her shaking form in his embrace. He slowly rocked them back and forth, until Tyra’s sobs calmed.
“Come on, I’ll take you home,” he told her calmly as he helped her to her feet.
The ride was silent. Tyra kept her eyes trained on the road in front of them. She felt Billy glancing at her, but she didn’t say anything, she stared straight ahead.
When the truck stopped, Tyra finally came out of her stupor. Looking up, she looked at the house in front of her. It was dark; no lights; nothing.
Fear gripped her for the second time that night. She began shaking her head.
“No,” she whispered, “No, please.”
“Tyra?” she heard Billy ask confused.
Tyra glanced at him; tears beginning to stream down her face, “No one’s home. Please, Billy. I don’t wanna be alone.”
She watched as Billy just nodded, and then put the truck in reverse, and pulled back out on to the street.
Her hands released their tight grasp on the leather seat as the truck pulled up to a familiar house. The Riggin’s place.
She didn’t realize Billy had gotten out of the truck until, her door was pulled open and he was standing there waiting for her.
He led her into the house, flipping on the lights.
“Timmy must not be home yet,” Billy commented, “He said he was hanging out with Jason tonight. He should be home soon.”
Tyra nodded.
“So do you want something to eat or drink?” he asked, looking at her helplessly.
She shook her head. He nodded.
Silence descended on them. Finally, Billy walked towards the fridge and pulled out a beer, popping off the top and taking a drink.
She watched him. He met her gaze. Tyra looked down, finally, noticing her dirty clothes. She realized she wanted to get out of them. They were just one more reminder of the night’s events, and all she wanted to do was forget.
Glancing back up at Billy, she asked, “Can I use your shower?”
Billy blinked, and then answered quickly, “Oh, yeah, sure.”
“Thanks,” she called back to him, as she made her way to the bathroom. Shutting the door and locking it securely behind her, she leaned back against it.
Tyra turned on the water, quickly sliding out of her clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor. Pulling the shower door shut behind her, she stepped into the steaming water, closing her eyes as it ran down her body, mixing with the silent tears sliding down her cheeks.
She stood in the water for what seemed like hours, hoping the hot water would wash away all of the pain.
After scrubbing herself clean and rinsing off she finally shut the water off, and stepped out of the shower.
Standing in front of the mirror, she wiped the steam from it and noticed the few bruises that covered her face. Glancing down, she saw a large bruise forming near her hip bone, and another one near her abdomen.
Looking away, she grabbed the last clean towel off the shelf behind her, and wrapped it around her body.
Realizing she had no clothes to change into, she reached for the door, hoping she could find something in Timmy’s room that she could wear. Tyra opened the door a crack, there was a little end table sitting by the bathroom door, and sitting on the edge were a folded pair of sweat pants and one of Tim’s old jerseys.
Picking them up, she closed the bathroom door again, and quickly put them on. She loved wearing Tim’s old jerseys because they were huge on her small form, the sleeves coming down past her elbows. As she looked down at the faded jersey, old memories came rushing back to her. All the times she had spent at this house, in Tim’s room, and in this very jersey; it made her heart ache a little for those times. Sure, Tim had never been the best boyfriend, but she had never asked him to be. She liked that he wasn’t perfect; that he had his flaws just as she had her own. To her, they made sense together.
Walking back into the family room, she saw Billy sitting on the couch, one arm stretched out along the back, the other holding a beer can. He glanced up at her as she entered the room.
Tyra looked down at the baggy clothes she was wearing, “Thanks for the clothes,” she murmured, looking back up at him.
Nodding he replied, “No problem.”
She looked at him, noticing that he had changed clothes and cleaned up a bit while she had been in the shower.
Folding her arms across her chest, she glanced around not sure what to do. Her eyes closed as a flood of the memories from the night rushed back to her. Tears pricked at her eyes, and she fought to keep them in. She hated crying in front of people, but tonight she was almost too tired to care.
Opening her eyes, she glanced at Billy, then slowly walked over to the couch and carefully seated herself next to him. Tyra sighed, leaning into him, resting her head on his shoulder. She needed this: the contact with someone she trusted. She needed to know, to feel that she wasn’t alone right now.
Billy said nothing, just brought his arm down around her, pulling her closer. He gently kissed the top of her head. She heard him set his beer can down, and then felt him place his other arm around her.
Tyra closed her eyes, yawning. She hadn’t realized how tired she was until now. Snuggling even closer to Billy, she felt herself drifting off to sleep.
*******
Tyra woke to noise coming from the kitchen. Glancing around her, the events of the past evening rushed back to her.
Pushing back the blanket that someone had put over her, she stood and headed into the kitchen. Tyra stopped when she saw Tim rummaging around in the fridge.
She silently waited until he closed the door and turned around, a carton of milk in his hand. Opening it, he sniffed it, shrugged and began to pour it into a glass.
Glancing up, he stopped, putting the carton down, when he saw her. His eyes locked with hers, and she knew from the look in his eyes Billy had told him what had happened.
Tyra looked away. When her eyes found his again, she was shocked to see the intensity of his stare. His eyes were filled with emotion: anger, concern, hurt, love. His eyes had always been her favorite attribute of him. They were so expressive; through them she could see everything he was feeling; she could see him.
His stare overwhelmed her and she averted her gaze, looking anywhere but at him. She slowly made her way over behind the counter to stand beside him. Grabbing a glass from the shelf, she turned on the faucet, watching the water fill the cup. She felt Tim’s eyes on her as she silently drank the water.
As she set the glass back down on the counter, she noticed how much her hands were shaking. Tyra shut her eyes tightly, trying to calm her emotions, but it was no use. She hated that this kept happening; the powerful rush of emotions and memories that would just hit her without any warning.
Her hands gripped the edge of the counter to steady herself, as the silent sobs began racking her body.
Strong arms wrapped around her from behind. Tyra stiffened at first, before recognizing the familiar scent of Tim, and relaxing into his embrace. She let Tim gently turn her around in his arms, and pull her close. Burying her head into his chest, she let herself cry.
When her sobs had subsided a bit, she felt Tim loosen his grip and pull back a bit. She didn’t want him to let go, she just wanted to stay in his arms. She felt safe in his arms.
Tim gently cupped her face in his hands, guiding her to look at him. Tyra closed her eyes as used the pads of his thumbs to wipe away her tears. He leaned in a pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.
Tyra leaned into his touch, and as he pulled back, she leaned in, pressing her lips to his. Tim pulled her closer as he returned the kiss. Breaking the kiss, Tim pressed kisses to the side of her mouth before he pulled back and pulled her to him, wrapping her in his arms.
For once, Tyra was thankful that Tim wasn’t much of a talker. Right now, she didn’t want to talk. Tim didn’t need to talk for her to understand what he was saying. His embrace, his kiss, told her everything she needed to know. He was here and he wouldn’t let anyone hurt her. She was safe.
Finally pulling back, he grabbed her hand with one hand, while he shoved the milk back into the fridge with the other. Flipping off the light, he led her to the door of his room. He glanced at her, his eyes pleading with her to trust him.
But already knew what he was doing. It was something they had done since they were young. It had started in grade school, when Tyra’s mom had lost her job and came home drunk. She would sneak out of her house and run to Timmy’s just two blocks away. Sometimes he would leave his window open slightly, other times she would just tap on the window pane and he would let her in. Neither would talk, Tyra would just crawl into his bed and snuggle up against him.
Those times had stopped sometime during junior high. Emotions, hormones, and everything else that went along with being a teenage got in the way.
Tim gently tugged her hand, bringing her out of her memories, and led her into his room.
She silently walked over to his bed and slid between the sheets. He followed, wrapping his arms around her, as she curled into his embrace. The familiar scent of Tim’s cologne and laundry detergent, along with his even breathing calmed her, lulling her to sleep. As she closed her eyes, she realized this was where she felt the safest; this was where she wanted to be. This was where she belonged.
Title: Safe
Pairings/Characters: Tyra, Tim, Billy, Landry, Tyra/Tim
Spoilers: Through Episode 2x01
Rating: PG-13 (for some violence)
A/N: A huge thanks goes to my beta
leobrat - you are awesome!
Summary: This is my take on how the Tyra/Landry incident in Episode 2.01, so it's AU...kind of.
This couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t really be here, in front of her, talking to her again.
She had put this behind her. She had put him behind her. And now, he was here, slowly moving towards her, and she was frozen.
“What are you doin’ here?” Her voice was quiet, controlled.
She stole a quick glance toward the store entrance, searching for Landry, but didn’t see him. She didn’t see anyone.
“Don’t touch me,” she yelled, as his hand came to rest on her arm. She pushed him away, “Don’t you touch me.”
“Oh, you wanna get rough,” his voice was low, threatening, as he grabbed her and slammed her into the side of the building.
A sharp pain ran through her as her head connected with hard metal. She began to hit him; his face, his stomach, anywhere she could land a punch.
But he was too strong. He grabbed her and flung her to the ground.
Tyra heard footsteps and then Landry’s voice, as she watched Landry tackled him from behind.
“Get off of her,” she heard him yell, as he landed a punch to the man’s gut. But Landry wasn’t a fighter, and the man landed a powerful upper cut which knocked him to the ground.
Tyra screamed, and began to run, but two arms grabbed her from behind.
“No,” she screamed, “Landry!”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Landry grab a long metal pole from the ground. Fear gripped her.
“Landry,” she yelled, as the man flung her towards his car, and turned towards Landry blocking the pole with his hands and bringing it down to shove Landry to the ground. She watched as Landry’s head hit the ground, and he didn’t move.
“No,” Tyra screamed. She launched at the man’s back; pulling his hair, kicking and punching him. He flung her off his back, and turned towards her.
But before he could take another step towards her, a hand landed on his shoulder and spun him around, a fist connecting with his face, then his stomach.
Tyra watched as her attacker fell to the ground groaning and clutching his stomach. The man slowly tried to rise and move towards his car, but Billy Riggins blocked his path.
Billy hauled him up on his feet, “Where do you think you’re goin’?” he asked menacingly, shoving the man towards his truck. Rummaging in the back he pulled out a long rope.
The man stared at him wide-eyed. Billy just grinned at him. Her attacker tried to run away but Billy grabbed his shirt and pulled him back, landing another punch to his gut, before twisting the man’s arms around behind his back and tying him up, then tying him to the back of his truck.
Then grabbing a shotgun out of the back of his truck, he stared at the man.
“You’re scum, man,” Billy spat, examining the gun. Tyra’s breath caught in her throat.
“Billy, no!” Tyra yelled, not sure just what he was going to do. She knew Billy had grown up in a violent house; that he didn’t stand for anyone hurting the people close to him.
He just held up a hand towards her.
Tyra watched Billy, her mind trying to grasp what had just happened. Rising slowly to her feet, she called out again, “Billy, please, don’t.”
Walking slowly toward him, Tyra reached out her hands, tears streaming down her face, “Billy, he’s not worth it.”
With his shotgun in one hand, Billy turned toward her though his eyes never left her attacker, “Go call the police, Tyra.”
Grabbing her phone out of her jeans pocket, she made the call, her fingers shaking as she dialed.
As she hung up, she suddenly remembered Landry. Turning toward where he had fallen, she ran to his side.
“Landry,” she called, her voice hoarse.
Tyra saw his head move slightly and his eyes blink open. She sighed in relief.
“Billy,” she called, and noticed Billy already heading in their direction.
Together, she and Billy helped Landry sit up, as sirens blared in the distance.
After the police arrived, everything became a blur. Tyra was questioned and checked-out by the paramedics, although she resisted at first.
She didn’t want anyone touching her. She just wanted to get out of there.
Landry was taken to the emergency room because he had suffered a concussion, and the police took her attacker away in the back of a police cruiser.
While the police questioned Billy, Tyra slipped away into the shadows, needing to get away from the accusing looks and probing questions.
Walking to the other side of Billy’s truck, she leaned back against the cool metal. Closing her eyes, her breathing became labored as her emotions flooded to the surface. She buried her head in her hands and slumped to the ground as her knees gave out.
“Tyra,” a familiar voice called to her.
“Tyra,” the voice said again, and she turned her head to look at the person who was slowly walking towards her.
Billy. Tyra gave a sigh of relief. She brought her hand to her mouth, everything from the past few hours flying through her head.
“Tyra, look at me,” she heard Billy say, his voice near.
She watched as Billy knelt down next to her, and reached out towards her. She flinched at his touch, and he drew his hand away slightly.
“Hey,” Billy whispered soothingly, “It’s okay, now. No one’s going to hurt you now.”
She felt his hand softly stroking her hair, and she slowly leaned into him as a flood of new tears began streaming down her face.
Billy caught her in his arms, and wrapped her shaking form in his embrace. He slowly rocked them back and forth, until Tyra’s sobs calmed.
“Come on, I’ll take you home,” he told her calmly as he helped her to her feet.
The ride was silent. Tyra kept her eyes trained on the road in front of them. She felt Billy glancing at her, but she didn’t say anything, she stared straight ahead.
When the truck stopped, Tyra finally came out of her stupor. Looking up, she looked at the house in front of her. It was dark; no lights; nothing.
Fear gripped her for the second time that night. She began shaking her head.
“No,” she whispered, “No, please.”
“Tyra?” she heard Billy ask confused.
Tyra glanced at him; tears beginning to stream down her face, “No one’s home. Please, Billy. I don’t wanna be alone.”
She watched as Billy just nodded, and then put the truck in reverse, and pulled back out on to the street.
Her hands released their tight grasp on the leather seat as the truck pulled up to a familiar house. The Riggin’s place.
She didn’t realize Billy had gotten out of the truck until, her door was pulled open and he was standing there waiting for her.
He led her into the house, flipping on the lights.
“Timmy must not be home yet,” Billy commented, “He said he was hanging out with Jason tonight. He should be home soon.”
Tyra nodded.
“So do you want something to eat or drink?” he asked, looking at her helplessly.
She shook her head. He nodded.
Silence descended on them. Finally, Billy walked towards the fridge and pulled out a beer, popping off the top and taking a drink.
She watched him. He met her gaze. Tyra looked down, finally, noticing her dirty clothes. She realized she wanted to get out of them. They were just one more reminder of the night’s events, and all she wanted to do was forget.
Glancing back up at Billy, she asked, “Can I use your shower?”
Billy blinked, and then answered quickly, “Oh, yeah, sure.”
“Thanks,” she called back to him, as she made her way to the bathroom. Shutting the door and locking it securely behind her, she leaned back against it.
Tyra turned on the water, quickly sliding out of her clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor. Pulling the shower door shut behind her, she stepped into the steaming water, closing her eyes as it ran down her body, mixing with the silent tears sliding down her cheeks.
She stood in the water for what seemed like hours, hoping the hot water would wash away all of the pain.
After scrubbing herself clean and rinsing off she finally shut the water off, and stepped out of the shower.
Standing in front of the mirror, she wiped the steam from it and noticed the few bruises that covered her face. Glancing down, she saw a large bruise forming near her hip bone, and another one near her abdomen.
Looking away, she grabbed the last clean towel off the shelf behind her, and wrapped it around her body.
Realizing she had no clothes to change into, she reached for the door, hoping she could find something in Timmy’s room that she could wear. Tyra opened the door a crack, there was a little end table sitting by the bathroom door, and sitting on the edge were a folded pair of sweat pants and one of Tim’s old jerseys.
Picking them up, she closed the bathroom door again, and quickly put them on. She loved wearing Tim’s old jerseys because they were huge on her small form, the sleeves coming down past her elbows. As she looked down at the faded jersey, old memories came rushing back to her. All the times she had spent at this house, in Tim’s room, and in this very jersey; it made her heart ache a little for those times. Sure, Tim had never been the best boyfriend, but she had never asked him to be. She liked that he wasn’t perfect; that he had his flaws just as she had her own. To her, they made sense together.
Walking back into the family room, she saw Billy sitting on the couch, one arm stretched out along the back, the other holding a beer can. He glanced up at her as she entered the room.
Tyra looked down at the baggy clothes she was wearing, “Thanks for the clothes,” she murmured, looking back up at him.
Nodding he replied, “No problem.”
She looked at him, noticing that he had changed clothes and cleaned up a bit while she had been in the shower.
Folding her arms across her chest, she glanced around not sure what to do. Her eyes closed as a flood of the memories from the night rushed back to her. Tears pricked at her eyes, and she fought to keep them in. She hated crying in front of people, but tonight she was almost too tired to care.
Opening her eyes, she glanced at Billy, then slowly walked over to the couch and carefully seated herself next to him. Tyra sighed, leaning into him, resting her head on his shoulder. She needed this: the contact with someone she trusted. She needed to know, to feel that she wasn’t alone right now.
Billy said nothing, just brought his arm down around her, pulling her closer. He gently kissed the top of her head. She heard him set his beer can down, and then felt him place his other arm around her.
Tyra closed her eyes, yawning. She hadn’t realized how tired she was until now. Snuggling even closer to Billy, she felt herself drifting off to sleep.
*******
Tyra woke to noise coming from the kitchen. Glancing around her, the events of the past evening rushed back to her.
Pushing back the blanket that someone had put over her, she stood and headed into the kitchen. Tyra stopped when she saw Tim rummaging around in the fridge.
She silently waited until he closed the door and turned around, a carton of milk in his hand. Opening it, he sniffed it, shrugged and began to pour it into a glass.
Glancing up, he stopped, putting the carton down, when he saw her. His eyes locked with hers, and she knew from the look in his eyes Billy had told him what had happened.
Tyra looked away. When her eyes found his again, she was shocked to see the intensity of his stare. His eyes were filled with emotion: anger, concern, hurt, love. His eyes had always been her favorite attribute of him. They were so expressive; through them she could see everything he was feeling; she could see him.
His stare overwhelmed her and she averted her gaze, looking anywhere but at him. She slowly made her way over behind the counter to stand beside him. Grabbing a glass from the shelf, she turned on the faucet, watching the water fill the cup. She felt Tim’s eyes on her as she silently drank the water.
As she set the glass back down on the counter, she noticed how much her hands were shaking. Tyra shut her eyes tightly, trying to calm her emotions, but it was no use. She hated that this kept happening; the powerful rush of emotions and memories that would just hit her without any warning.
Her hands gripped the edge of the counter to steady herself, as the silent sobs began racking her body.
Strong arms wrapped around her from behind. Tyra stiffened at first, before recognizing the familiar scent of Tim, and relaxing into his embrace. She let Tim gently turn her around in his arms, and pull her close. Burying her head into his chest, she let herself cry.
When her sobs had subsided a bit, she felt Tim loosen his grip and pull back a bit. She didn’t want him to let go, she just wanted to stay in his arms. She felt safe in his arms.
Tim gently cupped her face in his hands, guiding her to look at him. Tyra closed her eyes as used the pads of his thumbs to wipe away her tears. He leaned in a pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.
Tyra leaned into his touch, and as he pulled back, she leaned in, pressing her lips to his. Tim pulled her closer as he returned the kiss. Breaking the kiss, Tim pressed kisses to the side of her mouth before he pulled back and pulled her to him, wrapping her in his arms.
For once, Tyra was thankful that Tim wasn’t much of a talker. Right now, she didn’t want to talk. Tim didn’t need to talk for her to understand what he was saying. His embrace, his kiss, told her everything she needed to know. He was here and he wouldn’t let anyone hurt her. She was safe.
Finally pulling back, he grabbed her hand with one hand, while he shoved the milk back into the fridge with the other. Flipping off the light, he led her to the door of his room. He glanced at her, his eyes pleading with her to trust him.
But already knew what he was doing. It was something they had done since they were young. It had started in grade school, when Tyra’s mom had lost her job and came home drunk. She would sneak out of her house and run to Timmy’s just two blocks away. Sometimes he would leave his window open slightly, other times she would just tap on the window pane and he would let her in. Neither would talk, Tyra would just crawl into his bed and snuggle up against him.
Those times had stopped sometime during junior high. Emotions, hormones, and everything else that went along with being a teenage got in the way.
Tim gently tugged her hand, bringing her out of her memories, and led her into his room.
She silently walked over to his bed and slid between the sheets. He followed, wrapping his arms around her, as she curled into his embrace. The familiar scent of Tim’s cologne and laundry detergent, along with his even breathing calmed her, lulling her to sleep. As she closed her eyes, she realized this was where she felt the safest; this was where she wanted to be. This was where she belonged.