[A/N: Song for the chapter:
-Taylor Swift // Come In With The Rain]

"Ashley?"

I jolted awake, startled to find sea-green eyes a few inches from me. Dazed, I blinked wearily until I felt a hand lean over me. When my seat belt snapped loose, my eyes bulged at the bloodied hand that moved back to Tyler's lap.

The raw, pink skin had numerous shallow cuts that divided up like the way a river splits into many streams. The blood had dried but the region still looked alarmingly gruesome.

After punching the wall, Tyler really shouldn't have used the same fist to break his bathroom mirror.

"You should get that checked out," I murmured; opening the car door and allowing the cold wind to chase away all warmth in his car.

Sheepishly, he gave me a small smile. It failed to conceal the wavering frustration behind his eyes but at least it softened my horror towards his bloodied knuckles.

"I have dinosaur band aids," Tyler chuckled lightly, receiving a flat look that only made his dimples deepen.

Even though my gaze kept flickering to his hand, I bit back a sarcastic response and let out a defeated sigh. Pleased that he was feeling less destructive, I mustered a small smile, giving him credit for his joke. I grabbed my wet clothes and my coat from the back seat, sparing his injured knuckle another glance.

"Don't worry about me, I'll be fine." Tyler assured me in a strong voice.

Scanning his face for any deceit, I eventually grunted and stepped out of the car. Much to my surprise, Tyler unbuckled his seat belt and followed me to my porch. The walk was brief and we both enjoyed the brisk cold that sent crisp leaves scurrying along the sidewalk. I rubbed my bare arms with my free hand, stealing glances at Tyler as the wind sent his hair flapping into his eyes. I quite liked it when he made no attempt to move his hair out of his eyes because it made my fingers itch to do it for him.

Blushing at the thought of being that close to him, I diverted my attention to my bitten fingernails until we reached my door. Tyler look my way and I felt my cheeks blaze again. It was completely dark except for the dim porch light that had a cluster of fireflies attacking the dusty glass and I was glad because that meant Tyler couldn't spot my obvious blush.

Digging into my coat pockets, I fished my keys out and turned to the quiet guy beside me, wondering why he had taken the time to walk me.

I broke the silence, nervously pushing my hair away from my face.

"Ty?"

He turned, snapping out of what seemed like a daydream as he faced me with an open but distracted smile.

"Yeah?"

I could've asked him if he'd be okay for the night. I could've asked him why he decided to walk me to my porch. I could've asked him why he refused to let me in and help him deal with his grief.

I could've asked him any one of the billion questions I had waiting to be answers.

Instead I chickened out and let out an exhausted yawn, irritated with myself for lacking courage to put my thoughts out into the open.

"Thanks for the, umm, ride." I forced out, peering up at him.

Tyler's pupils were dilated, stark against his glowing green iris. Usually there was an equal amount of blue balancing the sea-green in his eyes, but the large, blackness of his pupils left no space for the ocean-blue, leaving just a strip of sea-green.

"No problem." His voice was soft unlike the gaping darkness I was struggling not to fall into.

We stared at each other for another lingering second and I tried my hardest to read into his blank expression. He hopped off the porch and began his way down the curved path, momentarily pausing at the brown picket fence.

"Laters," Tyler lifted a hand, waving goodbye as he sloped towards his car.

I watched him drag his feet before turning around to open the front door, taking care not to disturb the serene silence that filled the house.

That was until I clicked the door shut, acknowledging the dim light that danced on the hallway wall - a reflection from the television. It flickered green, then blue, then silver.

"What time do you call this young lady?" A voice rang from the living room.

Frozen, I clasped a hand over my mouth, silently kicking off my damp chucks before tiptoeing into the living room, startled to see my mother wide awake. In fact she had her feet propped up onto the coffee table as she picked up the remote and paused an episode of Desperate Housewives.

"Come on Mom, it's not even nine," I tried to play it off, letting out a nervous chuckle before trailing off at her flat look.

With an eyebrow raised, she placed her feet on the ground and then leaned forward in her seat.

"Dinner was three hours ago," Her voice dripped with disappointment but at least it was devoid of anger. "I called you multiple times."

There was no way I could handle my mom angry after having just witnessed Tyler's close meltdown. I was drained and wasn't ready to pick a fight I knew I couldn't win.

Surprised, I pulled my phone out of my coat pocket and gnawed on my bottom lip. Indeed, she had called - four times. Guilt swelled through my chest.

"But you said you had a dinner party to attend at work. I thought you wouldn't be home for at least two more hours." I dropped my stuff onto the vacant armchair before flopping down beside her on the couch.

"So you thought you could just do whatever you wanted for almost six hours?"

I picked at my cuticles, refusing to meet her disappointed glare.

"No!" I responded quickly. "I just forgot to call you and tell you that I wasn't going to be home."

I looked up, holding her gaze and hoping my sincere voice would get through to her. After glaring at me for a few seconds, her features softened and she backed down. However, exhaustion was still evident around her eyes, drawing more attention to the fine lines that crinkled whenever she smiled.

"Forgetting isn't a valid excuse Ashley. What am I supposed to do if something bad happens to you and I have no idea where you are?" She replied in a harsh voice. "I've suffered enough grief to last me a lifetime so make an effort to remember next time."

I drew a shaky breath, scanning the desperation in her eyes.

I understood why my mother was adamant on communicating with me more than the average parent, because I felt the exact same way. When Mom didn't come home from work before dinner, I got antsy and paranoid, terrified that she wouldn't walk through the door ever again. It's a horrid feeling to contain and a worse one to experience.

I couldn't lose another parent, just like she couldn't afford to lose me. We're all each other has.

"Mom," My voice was strained as she looked at me. "I'm really sorry."

My mother shifted her body, facing me completely with eyes as clear as a cloudless sky.

"Next time just make sure to pick up you phone Ashley," She ran a hand through my curls and I leaned into her touch, grateful that she wasn't mad at me. "You know that I don't mind you staying out late."

I nodded as her eyes bored into mine. Slowly they travelled down to my clothes and curiosity fleeted across her face.

"I'm pretty sure I don't remember you leaving the house this morning wearing that."

Opting to keep my mouth shut, I followed her eyes as they scanned the clothes I had dumped on the armchair. Wringing the heavy water out of my clothes wasn't enough to conceal their dampness, so they lay slumped on the brown leather, dark and crinkled.

"Did Blake give these to you?" Her full lips shrivelled into a confused frown. "But you told me you two were just friends."

Startled by her conclusion, my jaw hit the ground and my mouth opened and closed like a goldfish.

"Mom!" I shrieked. "Why would I be wearing Blake's clothes!"

Her flat look made me scoot back with disgust as an image burned the back of my lids. I leaned back, pulling my arms over my eyes and shielding myself as I gagged.

"Mom, come on! Seriously? You know how annoying and crazy he can be!"

She threw her head back and let out a silvery laugh that tinkered around the room.

"That doesn't mean you don't find him attractive." Her lips curled into a mocking smile.

I nudged her shoulder with mine before letting out a disgusted scoff. She laughed at my contorted expression.

"Please can we not go down that road. We are not discussing whether Blake is hot or not. That's just plain weird." I shuddered, shaking the eerie possibility out of my mind and off my back.

She laughed. "Don't worry, I've always pictured him better off with Mona anyway."

Bewildered by her statement, I visualised my two friends dating and shook my head, laughing quietly to myself.

"They're complete opposites and they fight too much. Trust me Mom, if it wasn't for me, one of them would definitely be dead by now." I concluded but she just rolled her eyes, muttering about the naivety of teenagers today.

"There's a thin line between love and hate. Take your father and I for instance. He was my best friend but we were at each other's throat every second and argued at least twice a day."

I laughed, having heard the story of my parents' crazy teenage years one too many times.

"So are you going to tell me what guy walked you to the door and gave you his pyjamas, if you're adamant it wasn't Blake?" Mom mused, watching me with a careful but curious eyes.

"Nobody walked me to the door," I tried to pathetically evade the subject by lying.

"I may be getting older but that doesn't mean I've losing my hearing."

Flustered, I picked at my cuticles and tried to hide the flush creeping up my cheeks but Mom leaned back, sinking into the leather couch as she let out a deep breath of realisation.

"Tyler Miller?" Her questioning gaze died down when I refused to meet her eyes. She nodded, discretely smiling before frowning, "What could the two of you have possibility been up to for over six hours, making you come home in his clothes?"

She gave me a serious look, though there was a glint of amusement behind her sky blue eyes; and it was times like this that I felt like she was a spitting image of what I imagined my father would have been like. Sure my parents were stark opposites appearance-wise, but there traits that Mom failed to conceal that reminded me of my father's playful nature.

I could see why he fell in love with her.

"Mom!" I shrieked, pointing at my discarded, wet clothes to eradicate the conclusion she was skittering around but she only rose her eyes in defiance, not quite believing me, thus tricking me into retelling the day's event.

Although, I did make sure to leave out Tyler's close calling meltdown because I just felt like it was a secret that was mine to keep; and I liked being the only person beside Rosemary who got to see his vulnerable side.

Did that mean he was letting me in?

I couldn't be so sure.

**

I strode into the class moments after dodging Jonah's tree trunk arms. The neanderthal had been bothering me for the past hour in French, even choosing to saunter behind me after class as I stopped by my locker.

Darting towards my desk, I stole a glance over my shoulder, relieved to see that the burly brunette had chosen to grab an apron. I was glad he had forgotten about me now that Michelle was flirting with him, raking a fingernail down his chest as he laughed at something she said.

Spinning around, I let a surprised shriek when my eyes locked with sea-green eyes which were a mere metre away from my face. Jumping out of my skin, my lips tugged down into a scorning frown when Tyler's lips twitched with amusement.

"Don't creep up on me like that or else!" I hissed, placing a hand over my chest. The erratic heartbeats only quickened when he took two steps towards me, looming over me like a skyscraper.

I stood my ground, narrowing my eyes into slits but Tyler didn't seem all that fazed.

"Or what?" He challenged, waiting for an answer I couldn't give before breathing a laugh. "Exactly as I thought, nothing."

Barging past him, I rolled my eyes and went to grab two aprons. Just as I turned around to give Tyler one, I eyed his outstretched hand and laughed. Confused, he rose an eyebrow.

I gave him a wide smile, pushing my arm out further before jerking to the right as he tried to grab the apron. Releasing my grip, it fell to the ground making my smile widen when Tyler scowled.

"Seriously?" He scoffed, bending over to pick it up before shooting me his infamous death glare.

I laughed, stopping short when I nearly collided into Michelle. She whirled around and shot me a withering look.

"Watch where you're going freak!"

Sizing her up, I cocked an eyebrow up and let my gaze flicker to Dylan. He watched the encounter, discretely sliding his gaze to Tyler before turning back to the recipe book in front of him.

"Takes one to know one," I laughed with a wink, bringing a double meaning to her insult as Tyler sniggered behind me.

Her glare hardened into a glower as I shuffled around her, taking care not to infuriate her any more than I already had.

Tyler and I set out the bowls quickly, working in unison without uttering a single word. It was only when I took charge of whisking the cream that he cleared his throat. Pushing aside the smooth, consistent cake mix, he fiddled with the long hair on his nape, taking the opportunity to scratch his neck.

"About yesterday..." Tyler trailed off, absent-mindedly rubbing his bandaged knuckle.

"It's okay, we don't have to go there if you don't want to," I smiled earnestly and he paused for a moment.

"No, I have to apologise for what I said about your friendship with Taylor and your way of grieving for her. It was wrong of me to snap at you."

His eyes bored into mine, unblinking, and waiting for a response.

"It was a horrible thing to say but I'll survive. I always manage to survive," I shrugged my shoulders, letting out a bitter laugh as I hoped my nonchalance concealed just how much his words had actually hurt me last night.

Tyler seemed unsatisfied with my reply, raking a hand through his hair even though it flopped back into his eyes.

"I didn't mean it, you know that right?"

I stayed silent, watching honesty glimmer behind his bright eyes before nodding reluctantly.

"I just think it's too soon for you to push me to do something so big," Tyler paused, staring straight past me with a pained grimace. His jaw was set, locked in place as it ticked whenever he clenched it. "I really don't think I can do this, any of this."

Tyler had never been dishonest to begin with, but I always remembered being a kid and knowing that he had a tendency to leave out parts of the truth. So I knew when to value his full honesty because it was a rarity that he never indulged in. Scanning his open eyes, I ignored the bitter defeat in his voice and set the bowl aside, leaning my elbow on the counter as I faced him, giving him my undivided attention.

"Didn't you make me a promise?" I raised my eyebrows as he let exhaled heavily. "I told you that you as long as you don't give up on yourself, I won't give up on you. Remember?"

Tyler nodded slowly, mirroring my stance by channelling all his weight into his elbow as he pressed it against the counter.

"I have no intention on giving up at all, so don't make me break my end of the bargain." I huffed, prodding his hard chest to reinforce my point. "Got it?"

A ghostly smile hinted at his lips and I had to purse my lips to conceal the slight hitch of my breath.

Tyler pushed himself back and started to manoeuvre around me, switching on the oven and lining the oven tray, busying himself to avoid conversation.

Welcoming the silence, I dived into my own thoughts, still dazed from my latest nightmare. It wasn't the most terrifying I had ever experienced, but it showed no mercy and I woke up screaming. Luckily, my screams were muffled by my pillow. At some point during the night, I had rolled onto my stomach but I thanked my awkward sleeping position for muting my scream.

The specifics of the dream were hazy, but it followed the same plot at the others: I died screaming and woke up screaming.

Shaking off the daunting memory, I stole glances at Tyler, drinking the way his hard muscles rippled beneath his shirt whenever he flexed his back to stretch. When he stifled a yawn, I paused to scrutinise the grey shadow that ringed his bright eyes. Judging from the second yawn he stifled, he probably never slept last night and the thought made my stomach muscles clench tightly.

I wish I knew how to help him the way Dr Jillian helped me with Taylor's death. Curious, I turned to the silent guy beside me, drinking in his serene expression before blurting out my question.

"Tyler have you ever thought of seeking professional help? Like a therapist?"

His shoulders stiffened, and I tried not to lavish at the sight of his taut muscles.

"I have," Tyler replied in a flat voice, stopping to shoot me a disinterested glance. "I've seen a tonne of them and they're all gold-diggers."

Thinking back to Dr Jillian's clinic, I had to admit that seeing her had been a financial burden upon my mother. But I felt like, had it been anybody else, the money would have been worthwhile. Therapy was worthwhile if there's a chance a person can be fixed. I just happened to be a destructive, lost cause.

Pursing my lips, I shook my head at his opinion, "I know a really good one, she's the best bereavement therapist in the state."

Expecting Tyler to dispute and argue back, his pupil became smaller, giving rise to the ocean-blue that surrounded the sea-green region of his iris.

"How?"

I froze.

His eyes burned into mine and a scalding heat coursed through my body, leaving me momentarily breathless as I tried to formulate a lie.

"Umm, a friend of mine lost her father and, umm, blamed herself for erm..." I trailed off, biting on my nail before feebly replying. "It's a long story."

Tyler rose an eyebrow but kept silent before turning his back to me to bring forward the oven tray.

"And did it work out for your friend?" He asked, shooting me a hopeful glance and I bit my lip.

"No," I replied honestly, thinking back to cloud of guilt that seem follow me everywhere. "No, she's still in a pretty bad state."

Tyler scoffed, as if he'd known all along that therapy was a tumbleweed of lies and scams.

"Exactly. Trust me Ashley, you have no idea how pointless therapy can be. It sucks all the energy out of you and leaves you feeling worse off than you already were to begin with."

His words left me reeling, and I staggered back, gripping the counter for support. My knuckle white hold went unnoticed but he blinked at my locked jaw. I had to catch my breath and suppress my irritation because Tyler automatically assumed that I had no idea what I was talking about.

Of course I had every idea!

I felt the urge to yell that I did understand. I was getting incredibly sick that the entire world always seemed to kick aside my advice, simply because they presumed that I lacked the emotional experience.

I hated being treated like my words held no value; albeit I knew if everybody was aware of my emotional and mental upheaval, I would be followed around with more sickening sympathy than Tyler has been lugging around for the past two years.

But wasn't that the reason I kept my father's death hidden away?

I breathed heavily, managing to get out, "That's not the point."

But Tyler was done listening to me.

"Whatever, I'm not a seeing a therapist Ashley."

The edge in his tone wasn't enough for me to back down.

"Why not?" I protested, carefully pouring the cake mix into the tray as he glared at me.

"I just told you why not, aren't you listening?" Tyler snapped hotly before raking a hand through his hair.

His obvious frustration made me grit my teeth since I was certain that Dr Jillian would be able to offer him some kind of help, so I carried on, pressing the matter even though I was suffocating Tyler with the proposition.

"But it's just a suggestion, at least tell me you'll think about it."

Our eyes locked, and there was no telling what he was thinking. All emotions were drawn back and his lips were set into a tight line.

"Just drop it."

"But-" I began, pressing the bowl down and facing him with a stubborn frown.

"Just drop it Ashley," His voice was curt and I let my head hang low.

"Fine."

Defeated, I grumbled under my breath as Tyler grabbed the tray and pulled open the oven. I flinched as the blistering heat emitted a hellish, red glow that illuminated his face.

Getting him to see Dr Jillian was going to take a great deal more persuasion; or was I just wasting my time?

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[A/N: Oh oh, Ashley's overstepping the line isn't she?

Anyway, update will be in a week unless this story surpasses 26,000 reads then I'll post it right away haha. Guess what it's called? ;)

Alright, alright, I'll put you out of your misery

Chapter 28: Keeping Promises

So I wonder what that means?

Till next time chaps!

Vote, comment and fan.

- Kaddy]