Song Above: Kehlani Again.

"Brody it's beautiful,"

I stood in awe at the sight before me.

Hidden in the crevasses of the trees in his garden with the moon illuminating its shape was an old log cabin. It's oak structure looked as if it had been preserved for years and sculptured into a one-story guest house.

"You really think so?" His lips curled into a smile, reaching out and grabbing my hand, "My dad and I built this a while back,"

"You and your dad?"

"Yeah, once upon a time we actually got along," He said to himself rather than to me. I could hear the sadness in his tone and I squeezed his hand in an attempt to comfort him.

He shook his head and turned towards me, "I figured we could spend the rest of the weekend here, just you and I,"

"I'd really like that," I smiled but then a thought entered my head, "Would your parents be okay with that?"

The last thing I wanted was Mrs Jackson charging in on me with her icy stare and a machete trying to decapitate me for leaving her actual son for her stepson.

"You mean my dad," He corrected me. I had forgotten his distaste when it came to his stepmom, "I don't have to answer to him,"

He pulled me closer so we were inches apart. He brought a handout and gently moved a stray hair behind my ear, "I want you here, so I don't care what they say,"

"I want to be anywhere you are," I breathed, breaking the gap between us and meeting his lips.

It was slow and tender, in a way that words never would be. He wrapped his arms around me, his hand finding the small of my back and the heat surged through me at his touch. I held onto his t-shirt tightly wanting more and more.

He could tell but he restrained himself and smiled against my lips. He pulled back and looked down at me, his eyes a pallet of browns in the night's sky.

"We'll have loads of time for that, I want to show you some things first," His mouth was huge and raised into a smile and he turned on his heel walking towards the cabin. His steps had a bounce to them and he twisted his body to see if I was following.

"Come on Poison," He playfully winked using the nickname he had given me, "I ain't got all day,"

I followed him, grabbing his extended hand as I met him at the steps and allowed him to guide me into the cabin. I could taste the freshness of the night air flowing through the open window and I felt the hairs on my arms stand, not from the cold but from the beauty of it all.

There was a large crackling fire that gave me a warm welcome and I could smell the wood-burning. My eyes travelled over the panels of wood that held its structure in place, the bookcase indented in the walls that kept hundreds of well-read books safe and the king-sized bed in the far corner, that looked inviting with its Egyptian silk bedding. I ran my hands over the navy fabric sofa feeling its softness on my fingers and found a table sat at the end of it.

A wooden frame with three people in it caught my attention. I slowly picked it up and looked at the picture in more detail.

A young boy with curly brown hair and sun-kissed skin sat beaming with a huge grin spread across his face. He was in between two equally as happy adults. The woman was young and breathtakingly beautiful, with deep brown eyes and curls that flowed down her shoulders. The male was just as handsome, with strong features and blue eyes that pierced through you.

They had their arms around the boy and if you looked close enough you could see the warmth in their eyes. I went to say something but the frame was yanked out of my hands.

I looked up startled to find Brody staring down at me, his face unreadable as he held the frame tightly against his chest, "That shouldn't be there," He said stalking away, opening a drawer and placing it at the back. He shut the drawer with a loud thud and turned to face me leaning against the cupboard. He rubbed at his temple and tried to regain himself.

"I uh, sorry I didn't mean to, I was just uh-"

He let out a sigh silencing my stuttering, "Ivy it's fine,"

"I shouldn't have been so nosy. I'm sorry," I muttered under my breath darting my eyes to the floor.

I always had a habit of letting my curiosity get the better of me. I should have known from personal experience that certain items triggered unwanted emotions.

Brody was no exception.

I never asked about his mom, and I wouldn't. If he wanted to tell me what happened then that was his choice. I'll wait till the time comes because he's worth waiting for.

He ran his hands through his hair and groaned a silent battle with himself, "He hasn't been to see her once, you know?"

I stayed silent, I knew his question was rhetorical.

"The last time he saw her was when he identified the body," He sucked in a harsh breath and I could see his hands shaking at his sides, "How can he let that be his last memory of her? With the bullet wound still fresh in her chest,"

I felt my stomach sink. I had hoped, prayed even that the rumours of Brody's mom being murdered were just rumours. I had never comprehended that they were true. I could see the pain and heartache in his eyes and I wanted to go over and hold him. I wanted to take away all his pain and carry it myself.

But I knew that type of pain as your own, and no one or nothing could ease it. It would always be a part of you.

"She was going to get my birthday present you know? Dad had told her it wasn't safe at night, but she had insisted. She was planning on waiting for the new action man to be released and knew it was in demand so she wanted to get a heads to start, the store was downtown, it was known for its drive-by killings, we'd all seen it in the news, but she swore she would be okay," His lips wavered and a silent tear slid down his cheek, he hastily wiped it away with the back of his hand, "That was the last time that we saw her, I shouldn't have kept asking for that damn toy, I shouldn't have been so selfish. She is gone and it's all my fault,"

His walls, the walls that held him up, that made him strong just collapsed. I rushed over to him and wrapped my arms around him. He sobbed into my chest unceasingly, his hands clutching at my jumper. I held him in silence, rocking him slowly as his tears soaked my clothes. I brought a handout and stroked his hair.

We stayed like for what felt like hours. When he cried it was real, raw even like the pain was a wound that was constantly reopened.

"It should have been me and not her," His hands clenched into shaking fists, in a desperate battle against the grief.

"Brody, it wasn't your fault, you were just a boy," As if my voice had called him out of the hole he had buried himself in, he pulled away, his lashes blinking with heavy tears.

A desperate look shadowed his eyes and they darted to my mouth. "Please don't leave me too." He whispered, grabbing hold of my face and crashing his lips with mine. Sparks flew in every direction and slowly but surely all his troubles, all his thoughts that tormented his mind went away.

I was his drug. I was his escape from reality and he was mine.

My arms reached up and tangled around his strong neck. His lips moved with mine, perfect in sync and I felt him guide me towards the bed. The kiss deepened, becoming more passionate as he gently laid me down below him. He pulled back and I watched breathlessly as his eyes studied mine with a silent intensity.

"I want to be in charge, I want you to let me do whatever I want to you," I feel my skin heat at the anticipation of what he had planned. I simply nod my head in compliance and he smiles in a way that makes my chest flutter.

He takes my jeans off and slowly starts to kiss me from my toes upwards his mouth teasing me. His hands gripped hold of my legs and he moved his kisses higher. I feel my back arch in anticipation and excitement, knowing where his fingers and hands will soon reach.

My head rocked back against the pillow as he did, the first moan escaping my lips. He's licking and using his fingers at the same time, watching, waiting for my reaction. He smiles in satisfaction at the pleasure evident in my face as I breathe his name.

"Say my name again baby,"

"Brody," I saw a little louder, my head fuzzy and dazed from the sensation he was giving me.

"And again, tell me you want me,"

"Brody, I want you,"

In a matter of seconds he's on me, his rhythm fast and intoxicating. I grip hold of his shoulders pulling him close to me so our chests are touching. I felt the electricity in my skin, heat and static coursing through me whenever we were together.

I didn't want him to stop. He slowed down his movement and kissed my lips. He leant his head down so it was level with my ear and the next words he said caused my breath to hitch in my throat.

"I love you,"