Darn Stupid Brother You Are

(Thomas's POV)

The night air was crisp and carried the faint scent of pine and damp grass. Angel sat beside me on the porch steps and her hair fell in soft waves over her shoulder. It was the same spot where everything between us had changed and now it felt like a fragile bubble that could burst with one wrong move.

She leaned forward with her elbows on her knees and stared out at the darkness. I couldn't help but watch her, the curve of her profile lit by the pale moonlight. She was stunning, but it wasn't just that. There was something about Angel that made me want to protect her even when she pretended she didn't need it.

I leaned back and let my shoulder brush against hers. "You always look like you're carrying the weight of the world. Do you know that?"

She glanced at me and her lips curved into a small smile. "Maybe I am."

Her voice was light but I could tell there was more to it. There always was.

It wasn't lost on me that things with Hendrix were far from settled. The guy had issues-no, we had issues-but I wasn't about to let that ruin what I had with Angel. If anything, it made me more determined to hold on to her even if I didn't know how long we'd have in a place like this.

I shifted and rested my hands on my knees. "You ever think about what happens after this place?"

Angel turned to me and her brow furrowed slightly. "After?"

"Yeah," I said and stared out at the empty yard. "Do we go back to who we were before? Or does this place leave its mark on us forever?"

She didn't answer right away and I didn't push. Maybe I didn't want to know the answer.

•

(Angel's POV)

I couldn't focus.

Thomas was talking but his words felt distant, like I was underwater. My mind was a mess of everything I'd been trying to ignore: my mom's voice in the back of my mind, her absence, the journal that was no longer where it should have been, and Hendrix... God, Hendrix.

He hadn't spoken to me in days and I knew it wasn't just about Thomas. It was everything. The way we had let things spiral between us, the way we had crossed lines that could never be uncrossed. And now, with Thomas... My chest tightened. What was I doing?

"Angel?" Thomas's voice cut through the noise and I blinked, realizing he was watching me closely.

"Yeah?"

"You're miles away," he said softly as he leaned in. "What's going on?"

I shook my head. "It's nothing."

But it wasn't nothing. It was everything.

My mom hadn't called in weeks. Not once. It wasn't like her. And even before this silence from her? I hadn't answered her calls or texts but that didn't stop the guilt from creeping in. And then there was the journal.

I had been so careful, so sure I was doing everything right. But now it was gone and I couldn't even bring myself to tell the others. What kind of leader was I if I couldn't protect the one thing that might save us all?

•

(Thomas's POV)

Her silence was deafening.

I tilted my head and tried to meet her eyes. "Angel, come on. You're scaring me. Just tell me what's wrong."

She hesitated and bit her lip in that way that made my chest ache. "It's... complicated."

"Everything here is complicated," I said gently. "But I'm not going anywhere. Whatever it is, you can tell me, you know." and as I said so, I had at the back of my mind that she was thinking about Hendrix. She glanced at me then and for a moment I thought she might actually tell me. But instead, she shook her head. "It's just... a lot."

"Does this have anything to do with that journal you're always talking about?"

Her eyes widened and I knew I had hit a nerve.

.

(Angel's POV)

Thomas shifted closer and his knee brushed against mine as he leaned in slightly, his eyes narrowing with concern. "Angel, I'm not stupid. I know something's going on."

I glanced at him as my heart raced. "It's not what you think."

"Then tell me what it is," he said firmly.

I looked away and twisted my fingers together in my lap. "I can't. It's... complicated."

He let out a soft sigh and rested his hand on the step between us. "You've used that word twice now and it's still not helping."

"Thomas, please," I whispered faintly. "Just drop it."

"No," he said as he shook his head. "Not when it's clearly eating you alive."

I turned to him and my chest tightened at the sincerity in his gaze. "It's about the journal, okay? But that's all I can say."

His brows furrowed and he placed his hand over mine, his warmth grounding me. "The journal... the one you think holds all the answers?"

I nodded and felt my throat constrict. "I lost it. And now... I don't know what to do."

He leaned closer and his forehead almost brushed mine. "You lost it?"

"Yes," I murmured and looked away. "And if anyone finds it-"

"Hey," he interrupted firmly. "Hey, look at me."

I hesitated before I finally met his gaze. "What?"

His hand slid up to my wrist and his thumb brushed over my pulse. "We'll fix this. I don't know how, but we will."

"You don't understand," I said as my voice trembled. "This isn't just about me."

His fingers tightened slightly in a reassuring way. "It's about all of us. And that's why you don't have to carry it alone." "Thomas..." I whispered and my voice broke.

"I mean it, Angel," he said as he brushed a strand of hair from my face. "You've got me. Always."

I felt my breath hitch and my chest swelled with something I couldn't name. "Thank you," I murmured.

A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth and his eyes softened. "Now, can we get back to me trying to impress you?"

I laughed softly and leaned into his touch. For the first time that night, the weight on my shoulders felt just a little lighter. But would things actually get fixed? Would the journal be found? If it wasn't, what would I do?