{Author's Note - Play the song, whilst reading this part <3, it's from one of my favourite k-dramas, Our Beloved Summer. The song just felt right in this part, let me know if you like the song. Tip - use the auto translate to English if you want to see the lyrics. Now ... on to our story !! xxx }

Lily's POV

It's been three days since I left Finn's house. Three days of silence, save for the occasional "Hi" or "I'm doing okay" text that barely scratches the surface of what's really going on. The worry festers inside me, growing with every passing hour.

I came back to Harrington after Ava took Mia back home, but I couldn't stay with Ian and Ava for the holidays. Not when every thought of mine was wrapped around Finn, wondering if he was okay. Kam and Jen have already left for their holidays, leaving me to face the deafening quiet of my own mind.

I sit on my bed after my nighttime routine, aloe vera face mask still on, staring at my phone like I can will it to buzz. Just one message. One call. Something.

But all I get is silence.

Frustrated, I peel off the face mask and toss it aside. I flick the lights off and settle into bed, but sleep won't come. My mind won't let me rest, every thought circling back to Finn.

Finally, exhaustion wins, and I drift off.

**********

The sharp shrill sound of my phone jolts me awake, and I reach on my bedside table to get my phone.

"Hello?" I whisper groggily, my voice thick with sleep.

"Butterfly... were you asleep?"

His voice. The sound of it pulls me upright, sleep instantly forgotten.

"Finn?" My heart skips a beat. "No, I wasn't sleeping," I lie, my pulse racing.

He chuckles, but it's not his usual light-hearted laugh—it's quiet, almost... hollow. "Sure sounds like you were," he says softly.

I clear my throat, trying to shake off the sleep and the worry that tightens around my chest like a vice. "It's too early to be sleeping," I joke, glancing at the clock. Three a.m. "Why are you awake? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he says, but there's a weight to his words. Something is breaking behind that facade, and I feel it in every syllable. He's not fine. He's nowhere close.

I reach over to turn on the light, and he stops me. "Don't," he murmurs. "Don't turn on the light. You should really go back to sleep."

But his voice betrays him, and I can't ignore the warning bells ringing in my head. I get out of bed, slipping on my slippers as I walk over to the window. And then I see him—leaning against his car, looking up at my window.

"Finn..." I breathe, my heart twisting painfully in my chest. "I'll be down in a second."

I rush downstairs, my mind racing faster than my feet. When I open the door, he's standing there, and the sight of him—disheveled, broken, lost—makes my breath catch.

I don't think, I just move. I throw my arms around him, clinging to him like he's the only solid thing in my world. His body is warm, but he feels fragile, like if I let go, he'll shatter.

"You haven't replied to any of my texts," I say, snuggled against his chest. "I was worried."

His arms wrap around me, but it's not the usual tight, comforting embrace—it's loose, hesitant, as if he's scared to hold on too tightly. "I did reply," he says softly, planting a kiss on top of my head.

"Yeah, well, you didn't call me Butterfly in the messages." I pout, looking up at his beautiful blue-green orbs, which only take this colour under the moon.

"Noted, I'll always call you Butterfly in texts," he laughs. "Alright, go back upstairs."

"But you came all this way," I say. "Was it just to see me?"

He smiles and nods. "I saw you, and now I should start heading back." He plants a short kiss on my lips and pulls out of the hug before walking away.

The way he looked at me—something's wrong, I can feel it. Before he can get any closer to his car, I call out his name, and he turns back.

I walk faster to him, with tears glistening in my eyes, and I swat his arm hard enough for him to wince in pain.

He rubs his arm and looks at me, noticing that I'm tearing up.

"Lily," his voice is soft.

"No," I say sharply, swatting his arm again, harder this time. "You don't get to do this, Finn. You don't get to show up at my door in the middle of the night, pretend everything's fine, and then just walk away." My voice wavers, the dam breaking as tears flood my eyes. I blink them away, my chest aching. "I know you. I know when you're hurting, and I can see it all over your face. Why won't you just let me in?"

Before he can respond, I pull him into a hug, my arms wrapping tightly around him. He's frozen, his body stiff, arms hanging by his sides like he's unsure of what to do. But I hold on tighter, refusing to let him slip away again.

He stands there, stiff as a board in my arms, trying so hard to hold himself together. I can feel his chest rising and falling rapidly against mine, and for a moment, he doesn't move. It's like he's fighting it—fighting me. Fighting the truth.

"I'm fine," he mutters, his voice muffled against my hair. "I'm fine, Lily."

But the tremble in his words betrays him, and I feel his breath catch, like he's barely holding it all in. His hands finally lift, hesitantly hovering near my back, before they fall back to his sides. He's trying to convince himself more than me, and I can feel the weight of everything he's not saying pressing down on him, suffocating him.

"No, you're not," I whisper, tightening my hold on him, refusing to let go. "You're not fine, Finn. You don't have to be."

"I am." His voice cracks on the last word, and I feel him shake in my arms, his body betraying him, the control slipping. His fists clench at his sides, like he's trying to hold himself together through sheer force of will, but I feel it—I feel him breaking.

"It's okay," I whisper, my voice trembling with the weight of my emotions. "If there's something wrong, I'm here. Please, let me be your shoulder to cry on. Let me be your confidant. Let me take the pain away."

His breathing grows uneven, and I can feel his silent struggle. "So, if you want to cry," I continue softly, my heart aching for him. Before I can finish, he wraps his arms around my waist, clinging to me desperately.

"Cry," I whisper, my voice barely audible, and that simple word breaks down his last defence and he sobs into my embrace, releasing his pain.

I just hold him tightly and rub his back lightly. I can feel my own tears about to spill through, but I don't let them. This is his moment. I can feel my own tears about to spill through, but I don't let them. This is his moment, his time to let go, and I need to be strong for him. So, I swallow my tears and focus on being his rock, hoping my presence is enough to ease his pain.

"I've got you," I whisper, my voice trembling as I bury my face in the curve of his neck, holding onto him like I'm his last lifeline. He feels so fragile in my arms, like he might break if I let go. "I'm here, Finn. I'm not going anywhere."

His breath hitches, and when he speaks, his voice is so raw it cuts through me. "She didn't come back for me," he says, barely louder than a whisper, but the weight of those words hits me like a freight train.

My heart breaks for him. "Oh, Finn..." I murmur, threading my fingers through his hair, gently combing through the soft strands in a soothing rhythm. He's shaking, his body trembling as he fights to hold himself together, but I can feel it—the cracks spreading, the dam about to burst.

And then it does.

His sobs are violent, ripping through him with a force that makes my chest ache. He clutches me like I'm the only thing holding him up, and maybe I am. I press my cheek against his, my own tears slipping down my face, mixing with his as we stand there, clinging to each other like we're drowning.

We don't move for what feels like hours, just standing there as he falls apart in my arms. His pain is so palpable, so heavy, that I can barely breathe through it. But I hold him tighter, hoping that if I can just hold him long enough, maybe I can take some of it away.

Finally, the storm inside him starts to quiet, his sobs turning into shaky breaths. He pulls back just enough to look at me, his eyes swollen and red, his face streaked with tears. "Thank you," he croaks, his voice rough and broken. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

I cup his face in my hands, my thumbs brushing away the last of his tears. His skin is warm beneath my touch, and I look into his eyes, hoping—praying—that he believes me when I say, "You'll never have to find out. I'm here, Finn. I'm always going to be here." My voice cracks on the last word, and before I can stop myself, I lean up and press my lips to his.

It's soft at first, just a simple connection, but there's so much behind it—so much I'm trying to tell him without words. And then the kiss deepens, and all the emotions we've been holding back come rushing to the surface. His hands move to my waist, pulling me closer until there's no space left between us, and I feel like I can finally breathe.

His kiss is desperate, full of need and sorrow and something so raw it nearly undoes me. I kiss him back just as fiercely, pouring all my love, all my reassurance, all my everything into it, hoping he can feel how much I care. My fingers thread through his hair, pulling him closer, and I feel his hands tighten on me, like he's afraid I'll disappear if he lets go.

When we finally break apart, both of us are breathless. His forehead rests against mine, our breaths mingling in the small space between us. His eyes are closed, but I see the tear that slips down his cheek. Without thinking, I reach up and gently wipe it away, cradling his face in my hands like he's something precious—because he is.

"I promise, you'll never find out what it's like to lose me," I whisper, my words a vow. "I'm not leaving. Not ever."

He opens his eyes, and the look in them—it shatters something inside me. He's still so hurt, still so broken, but there's a flicker of something there. A tiny spark of hope.

"Come inside," I whisper softly, my fingers wrapping gently around his arm, pulling him closer to me. He hesitates for a brief second, and I can see the exhaustion in his eyes—the weight of everything—but he follows me. His steps are slow, heavy, as if the emotional toll of the last few days has drained him of all energy.

Once we're inside, I lead him to the couch. He sits down, and the sight of him—so worn, so vulnerable—makes my heart ache in ways I didn't know were possible. I grab a blanket, draping it over him like it can somehow shield him from all the pain he's carrying. Then, without a word, I sit beside him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, offering him what little comfort I can.

"So... what happened with your mom?" I ask quietly, my voice soft, not wanting to push too hard. I take his hand in mine, tracing gentle circles on his palm, trying to ease some of the tension in him.

For a moment, he doesn't speak. I can feel his hesitation, the way his shoulders tense. But then he takes a deep, shaky breath and starts talking. His voice is hoarse, each word a struggle as he recounts everything—the confrontation with his parents, the bombshell about his half-sister Daphne, and his mother's desperate plea for help.

I listen, squeezing his hand when I feel him falter, offering silent reassurance. He's breaking apart, piece by piece, and it's like every word he says pulls me deeper into his pain.

"I just don't know what to do, Lily," he finally admits, his voice cracking. "I feel so... betrayed. By both of them. Everything I thought I knew about my family... it's all been turned upside down."

Tears sting my eyes, but I push them back, pulling him into a hug instead. I hold him tightly, my lips brushing against his ear as I murmur, "It's okay to feel hurt, Finn. It's okay to be confused. You've been through so much... no one expects you to have all the answers right now."

His body trembles against mine, and I feel him cling to me like I'm his lifeline. His breathing is uneven, each inhale ragged with emotion. "I don't know if I can ever forgive them," he whispers, and the rawness in his voice nearly undoes me.

"You don't have to decide that right now," I say gently, rubbing small circles on his back. "Take it one day at a time. Focus on healing. You don't have to figure everything out tonight."

He nods against my shoulder, but I can tell it's not that simple. The pain in his heart is too deep, too fresh. We sit there in silence for a while, the quiet wrapping around us like a blanket, holding us together in the dark.

"It's just—" he starts again, his voice barely above a whisper, "I tried so hard to find her, to get her back, and she just... shows up out of nowhere. Like everything's fine." His voice cracks, and I feel a tear slide onto my shoulder. "Even though I missed her every single day, I convinced myself that if I could just move on, maybe she'd come back. Maybe she'd miss me enough to come back. But I was wrong. I feel so alone, Lily. Utterly alone."

His words pierce through me, each one like a shard of glass lodged in my chest. I pull back slightly, just enough to cup his face in my hands, forcing him to look at me. His eyes are red, swollen, full of so much hurt it makes my heart ache. "You're not alone," I say fiercely, brushing my thumbs over his cheeks. "I'm here, Finn. I'm right here. And I'm not going anywhere. You'll never be alone as long as I'm with you."

A weak smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, his eyes crinkling just a little. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Butterfly."

I laugh softly, shaking my head as I hold his face. "You won't ever have to find out."

And then I kiss him—soft, tender at first, but it quickly deepens. The kiss is full of all the things we can't put into words—the pain, the fear, the love, and the hope that we're both so desperately clinging to. His hands slide to my waist, pulling me closer, and I feel the warmth of his body against mine, the connection grounding both of us.

I lose myself in him. In the feel of his lips, in the way his fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me closer still, until there's no space between us. I can feel his desperation, his need for reassurance, and I pour everything I have into that kiss. Every ounce of love, every piece of comfort I can offer.

When we finally break apart, breathless, his forehead rests against mine. His eyes are closed, and I watch as a tear escapes, trailing down his cheek. I reach up and gently wipe it away, cupping his face as I whisper, "I promise you'll never find out what it's like to lose me. I'm not leaving."

He opens his eyes, and for a moment, I see something flicker in them. Something that looks like hope.

I rise from the couch, holding out my hand to him. "Come on, let's get some rest."

He hesitates for just a moment, his gaze flickering to my hand, before he takes it. I lead him upstairs to my room, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm light over everything. Finn sits on the edge of the bed, his exhaustion visible in every movement as he pulls off his shirt and trousers.

I slip into the bed beside him, and he immediately pull me close, wrapping his arms around me and I start drifting away into sleep and I faintly hear him whisper,

"I love you, Butterfly."

Though I don't think that was meant for me to hear but a small smile tugs at my lips as I nestle deeper into his arms. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulls me into a peaceful slumber.