Waiting for Saturday felt like an eternity and a heartbeat at the same time. Time crawled while I was in class, overthinking anything and everything that could happen in the three and a half days I was going to spend in Colorado, and then, once I started packing my bag, Thursday night sprinted into Saturday morning.

Listening to Violet's casual, mortifying suggestions about protection while I panicked about picking the right suitcase turned into Harry and me browsing around the sole gift shop post-security and check-in in the blink of an eye.

"Not sure if they have any Reese's Cups," Harry said, obscured from my view by a shelf, "but those would be a real home run."

He first guided me to a magnet his dad would love ("He likes it when they're shaped like the skyline!"), and then it was learning that his mom had a sweet tooth and exclusively liked peanut butter-filled sweets that made my brain tweak further. There I was, preparing to get them whiskey and Belgian chocolates. Nope. Reese's Cups and a magnet.

"As she wishes," I hummed, making my way down the candy aisle toward the general Reese's section. Harry appeared from behind a shelf, one hand lazily pushing his carry-on suitcase and the other in the pocket of his cargo pants, and my heart did a little jump.

He didn't kiss me when we met up, so I didn't kiss him either—the unexpected limbo I'd found us in warranted a tiny little hop of my heart. "Her name is Ellie, right?" I asked, partly because I had the question queued somewhere in my brain, and partly to avoid thinking about the limbo.

"Yep. Eliana."

"And your dad's Dustin?"

"What, did you study my Facebook page on the way here?" He deadpanned, and I gave a short laugh at the absurdity of the question; I had to admit it wasn't a bad idea, though. I might do that on the plane.

"You told me in passing." I shrugged, and it wasn't a lie—I just excluded the little detail of it happening eight months ago, on the bus where I first met him. Less mortifying than having to explain how I remembered names well (and everything that came out of his mouth purely because it was him). "You never told me much about them, though. What do they do for a living?" I continued before he could dwell on the Names Thing too long.

"Mom's a retail manager," he said, his focus on the gummy bears in front of us rather than me or the Names Thing. "She wanted to be a teacher, but she got pregnant with Cass—my brother—at the end of their senior year so, you know, they had to take care of him. She married my dad and put off going to college."

"Wait." The sudden appearance of math in my head caused a multi-thought collision. "How old is Cass? How old are your parents?"

"Cass is twenty-six, and my parents are forty-five."

"Are you serious?"

His eyes went a little wide as they found mine. My reaction wasn't harsh, but he probably wasn't expecting any reaction at all. "Wh- yeah, why?"

"My dad was forty-two when my folks had me." I blinked at him. He blinked back at me. "He's retiring next year."

"...Am I a dickhead if I say that it shows?" Harry made a sour face while I announced the answer to his question with a deadpan expression. "Hey, I'm not saying he looks bad, just a bit... older. How old is your mom?"

"Fifty-eight."

He quickly shook his head. "Doesn't look a day over forty-five."

"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, pressing my lips together to hide the smile he was bringing out. Out of spite. "So, your folks are high school sweethearts. That's fucking adorable."

"Yep," he replied with a sigh, finally picking up a pack of gummy bears. And then another one. "He had a crush on her so he'd throw wads of paper at her in class. She thought he was annoying. He won her over with some goofy dance moves at prom and they've been together since. Twenty-eight years."

Harry absently began to walk toward the checkout and I followed, watching his side profile with a fond smile while he spoke. "Mom went back to school when Cass was a year old and could handle being in daycare. She wanted to be able to come home after class so she went to a community college just outside of town, even though they didn't offer any teacher programs. Got a degree in Business, and then I happened. Three years later, Stella joined."

"Three kids before thirty," I mumbled, setting the magnet and Reece's Cups next to his gummy bears on the counter. "Sounds illegal."

We were heading toward our gate, a bag containing all of our goodies in my hand, when I remembered to ask, "What about your dad, what does he do?"

"Mechanic. Owns his garage."

I nodded, thinking back to what he'd told my dad. "The one you worked in?"

"The very one. He always knew he wanted to work with cars so he didn't bother with college or anything, just got a job straight out of high school. Turned out to be a good thing, 'cause he could help support my mom through school. Supported all five of us before Mom started working."

"Stand up guy."

After that, Harry was on a roll, and by takeoff, I'd learned a lot more about the Moran household.

Ellie liked sweets, liked to keep everything tidy (Harry's words: a neat freak), and liked watching Spanish telenovelas for the sole purpose of relieving herself of a few IQ points after a long day of work. Dustin was a walking Dad Joke, liked collecting magnets, figurines, and other trinkets that annoyed his wife (Harry's words: I don't even fucking know), and religiously barbecued on Sundays.

Cass—Cassius, as I'd found out—worked as a personal banker in Denver, but despite working with people every day, he was shy, a quality that was sometimes mistaken for aloofness. Stella's current hyperfixation was tarot cards and she would without a doubt beg me for a reading. The siblings never had any group activities because of their age difference, but Harry, being in the middle, had football with Cass, and Disney movies with Stella. Before he discovered horror, that is, at age fifteen.

"Anything you wanna listen to?" I asked as I handed Harry an earbud, just as he was finishing telling me about how they'd spent most summers at home, but Dustin would try to make it fun by taking the family kayaking or camping. None of the Moran kids were huge fans, but they appreciated their dad for trying.

Except that one time when Stella fell out of the inflatable boat while rafting—she did not appreciate Dustin a whole lot that day.

Harry pinched his fingers around the earbud, but didn't move, nor did he say anything. I lifted my gaze from my phone to his face, just in time to catch his wide eyes before he blinked them away a millisecond later. "Nope, you can play whatever you want."

With that, he placed the earbud in his ear and leaned back in his seat, eyes pointedly focused on the screen of my phone, acting like nothing had just happened. I squinted my own eyes at him while he—very coolly—avoided my gaze.

"Bullshit."

Harry raised his brows at me, but it was his gradually pinking cheeks that brought out a full grin on my face. "Hm?"

"You had a song on your mind," I insisted, ignoring the confused look on his face; the growing discomfort in his eyebrows was much more fun to focus on.

"I did not."

"Did too." I handed him my phone. "Play it."

"Evie-"

"I want to hear it!"

A sigh and reluctant snatch of my phone later, I bit my lip in an attempt to tame the smile that was threatening to make me look like a mad woman. We knew about my fondness of heavy metal, depressing songs, Judas Priest, yadda yadda, but I didn't know much about Harry's taste in music other than what he played while showering (various The 1975 songs), the couple of nights at my apartment when he had trouble falling asleep (Arctic Monkeys' Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino), and a few of the songs he chose that night at Miles' apartment when he first kissed me (Hozier's No Plan, Florence + The Machine's Dog Days Are Over, and, for whatever reason, Despacito).

(Beats the hell out of Scotty Doesn't Know.)

Harry handed me my phone back, and I was frowning at it before I'd even heard the first notes of the song he'd chosen over the plane engine.

Nothing Else Matters.

"This is not it," I pronounced, looking up at him, annoyed that he looked clueless. The only way to make it clearer that he was avoiding the subject was if he'd said the words, I'm avoiding the subject.

"It is." He shrugged, and I felt my jaw twitch. "It's our song now."

"No." I shook my head, not believing him for a second. Even the butterflies in my stomach that would've reacted to his words the same way as to a line of coke were quiet now. "Nuh-uh, you're trying to keep me off of your trail."

"I would never do that."

"You're trying to distract me."

"No idea what you're talking about."

My eyes were narrowed in suspicion, but it was useless against his stubbornness. He shrugged, as smoothly as I'd stated the fact that he was full of shit but for some reason, it made me smile. It made me bite my lip to stop myself from smiling.

I'd asked him if he had a song on his mind, thinking nothing of it, and in the split second before his brain consciously came up with something, some other stray thought made him freeze up. "Does it have anything to do with your ex?"

That broke his poker face into a baffled, mildly offended expression. "What? No!"

"So there is something. Just not ex-girlfriend-related."

The defeat on his face was delicious. His tense brows relaxed, and his eyelids drooped to halfway over his eyes—he knew he'd been had. "Evie."

"No, it's fine. You don't have to tell me."

I gave him another smile while he pulled his lips between his teeth to stop himself from smiling back. He knew that it's fine meant it's fine for now, because we're on a plane full of people. And you don't have to tell me meant I'll get it out of you one way or another.

///

The airport in Denver was about thirty times bigger—and more overwhelming—than the one outside our college town, but Harry's brother spotted us in the crowd in a record two minutes.

They didn't exactly look alike—Cass was a bit taller, with a more angular face and darker hair that was slicked back. He wore a button-down shirt and dress pants as he'd just gotten off work early to pick us up, and for the life of me, I couldn't imagine Harry looking so fancy, after months of baggy T-shirts and cargo pants.

But the way his smile created crinkles around his green eyes as he approached us looked entirely too familiar.

"You look so smart in those pants, I'd never guess you went to prom alone," Harry said over Cass' shoulder while they hugged.

His brother squeezed him tighter, releasing a genuine laugh, and just said, "It's good to see you again, shithead."

"This is Evie." Harry's hand touched my lower back. "My wife."

Not only did Cass react like he'd been told, 'See, I told you Santa was real,' I'm also pretty sure I had the same startled expression on my face. "I'll be goddamned," he laughed, offering his hand. "Evie. My little brother's wife."

"Cass, my husband's banker brother," I stammered as I shook his hand, trying to keep up with their energy, but it made Harry burst out laughing while Cass looked like I'd given him a wedgie.

"Yeah, yeah, studied one thing, working in another, dreaming about a third. You guys ready to go?"

The thing Cass studied turned out to be electrical engineering, and the thing he dreamed about was opening his own restaurant. I'd found out more through Harry's questions about how things had been going, and I even felt comfortable enough in the back seat of his Civic, sitting next to Harry, to ask some questions of my own (he lived alone in the city, came home about once a month, thought Denver was fun and convenient but would never put any other place above his hometown).

The sun was shining in the clear blue sky, the music was upbeat, and the company was good. Even though I'd just met one of the two other people in the car, it felt like a cozy road trip as we left the city and the road began cutting through mountain passes and forests of evergreens.

For all of forty minutes.

Forty minutes after getting into Cass' car, he was pulling over next to a gas station in a town we were passing through, and I fell onto the sidewalk as soon as I opened the door.

"I'm fine," I tried to shout, but it only made my stomach do another somersault, and I needed a moment to close my mouth so nothing would come hurtling out. I pushed myself off my hands and knees to sit on the cold asphalt and took a deep inhale of the fresh mountain air that made my Manhattan lungs bluescreen.

Harry appeared next to me, also sitting down on the sidewalk; his brows were furrowed in worry, and his hand came up to touch my forehead, then my cheek, and stopped at my neck. "You okay?" He asked with uncertainty, right as I heard a door open and close again, and Cass joined us on the opposite side of his car.

"Uh-huh," I answered truthfully, though the nausea was still present at the thought that I'd have to get back in the car. "Sorry, you guys. I forgot how carsick I get."

I rubbed my face, annoyed with myself; it was a weird sensation. I'd regularly used buses and trains with no issues, and I was fine in the driver's seat, but being a passenger on a car ride longer than my average Uber ride was a step too far, apparently.

"Don't apologize." Harry's other hand came around me to rub my arm gently, but it was enough to cause goosebumps over my thick sweater. "If you still need to throw up, go ahead."

"No." I shook my head. "But water would be nice."

Harry fetched me his bottle from the back seat and sat next to me again, while Cass stayed leaned against his car. "What if you moved to the front seat?" He asked, his arm coming around me again. "That usually helps."

I looked at Harry's concerned face as I lowered the bottle from my lips, and immediately, my fluttering heart betrayed my feeble stomach. "No, it'd be the same," I said with a shake of my head. "I think I can manage. Aspen isn't that far anymore, right? We're down to, like, an hour or something?"

Harry looked up at his brother with an increasingly pained face, and Cass looked back at him with the same sour expression. "It's another three hours to Aspen, at least."

"Oh."

"Honey, if you barely made it to Idaho Springs, I don't wanna take any chances." Harry turned to his brother again before the term of endearment—Honey? What? Who? What just happened?—could sink in. "Find a pharmacy and get Dramamine?"

"Guess so," Cass agreed. "Evie, you allergic to penicillin or anything?"

"Dramamine doesn't have penicillin, dumbass."

"That's why I said 'or anything,' shithead."

Well, the honey moment had passed.

Two streets later, Cass stopped at the nearest pharmacy his phone showed him; Harry got out to get my medicine, returning to the car within two minutes, right as I was telling Cass sorry for the sixth time. "Here we go," Harry sighed as he settled next to me, taking it upon himself to push a tablet out of the blister pack and handing it to me along with his water. "You'll probably get sleepy, but, you know, lesser of two evils."

I took the tablet from him, at this point praying that I'd go to sleep rather than keep embarrassing myself. Cass started the car again, and we left the town, the atmosphere a bit quieter now. Cass played the radio on low volume instead of his playlist, and Harry placed a hand on my thigh and held onto it, thumb softly caressing my leg over my jeans, as a sort of 'I've got you' signal.

It was hardly half an hour of beautiful scenery later that Harry's words came true—my head nodded forward once, twice, and the third time, I curled up my legs, knees resting against Harry's thighs, and hugged his arm with both of mine. "Sorry," I mumbled, leaning my head against his shoulder, "I can't stay awake."

"Wanna lay down, honey?" There was that word again. And even in my near-unconscious state, I wanted more of it. "You can put your head in my lap."

"Uh..."

"Come on." Harry picked up his jacket from behind the seat and bunched it up in his lap, coaxing me into moving my head from his shoulder to his lap. "There you go. Take a nap. Sleep as long as you need."

"Thank you, angel."

Harry's hand squeezed my arm, and I felt his lips press against my temple, staying there longer than a kiss warranted—hopefully, angel made him feel the same way honey made me feel. The pet name being a show for his brother was a thought I wasn't even considering touching. I wanted it to be real. I so wanted it to be real.

"So." I heard Cass' voice somewhere in the distance as my consciousness surrendered. "You're really married, huh?"

///

Aspen, Colorado. For whatever reason, my brain did not compute the sheer amount of aspen trees I'd be seeing absolutely everywhere.

But, shit, we were surrounded. They took up every inch of the non-concrete area in town, ranging from a spring-green color to deep, end-of-fall oranges, making every street look like a postcard. On top of that, the quaint, vibrant little town was set in the middle of the Rocky Mountains that were visible from anywhere, and it just seemed greedy.

What do you mean the world didn't end when a million skyscrapers weren't put all next to each other?

What do you mean the sun can reach the streets?

No, seriously, where are the buildings? There's gotta be at least one tall building, right? Right?

But I didn't have time to think about that right now. Not when I was getting out of the car on our last stop, a bouquet of tulips—Ellie's favorites—in my shaky hands, watching the front door of a house that was barely visible through the, but of course, cluster of aspen trees.

Cass and Harry busied themselves getting our luggage from the trunk while I took in their two-story home, the dark wood siding that made it look like a mountain retreat I'd rent for my hypothetical ski trip, but that was about all I had time for—the front door opened and out came a short, lean blonde woman, and from the driveway, it looked like it could've been either Ellie or Stella. My brain couldn't process the face either because of the distance or, maybe, the fact that I'd spent eight hours traveling today, had barely eaten, almost died in Idaho Springs, and the most stressful part of the day hadn't even happened yet.

She wrapped the long knitted cardigan around herself as she hurried over, but it flew open anyway when she threw her arms around Harry with the high-pitched words, "My beautiful boy!"

So, Ellie Moran.

My feet carried me to them right as she was finishing hugging Cass and ruffling up his hair—"Oh, Mom, for the love of God,"—and our eyes met at the same time that Harry placed a reassuring hand on my back.

"Mom, this is Evie. Ev, my mom."

"Hi," I offered warmly (as warmly as my nerves would let me, so maybe lukewarmly), but Ellie's wide eyes taking in every detail about me delayed her response. I'd forgotten just how much Harry looked like her—same nose, same lips, even the head shape, everything but the eye color. Recalling how Stella had the same blue irises as Harry, Cass appeared to be the only child to have their mother's olive green eyes.

Knowing I'd spontaneously combust if awkward silence added fuel to my anxiety, I held out the hand gripping the tulips and recited my rehearsed speech, "It's so nice to meet you in person, Mrs. Moran."

"Oh, dear, none of that," Ellie finally spoke, both her eyes and smile wide; she took the flowers from my hand and pulled me in the same tight hug as her sons. "You can call me Ellie. So good to meet you, too, sweetheart. I'd begun thinking Harry was hiding you from us."

"How'd I not think of that?" Harry deadpanned, loud enough to make both of us laugh, and some of my anxiety melted away.

Ellie pulled away and leaned in to take a whiff of the flowers in her hands. "These are beautiful. You didn't have to bring anything, Evie."

"Oh, on the topic of that," I began, making a quick trip to the back seat for the bag I'd almost forgotten. "These are also for you. I wanted to get something fancier, but, uh, Harry gave me pointers for what you like."

"Aw, you really shouldn't have." A delighted hum came from her (at the sight of Reese's Cups, presumably) and then a shake of her head (at the sight of the magnet, undoubtedly). "Your father is going to send the house right into Earth's core with all these magnets." And then, with a much brighter tone and expression, she looked at me. "Well, come on, you guys. Let's not just stand here."

So far, so good.

The inside of the Moran home also looked like a mountain retreat, just well-loved. The stone fireplace was breathtaking and had rightfully caught my attention first, while the picture frames dotted across it were endearing. The rich, dark hardwood floor made a cozy sound as Ellie pattered across it with her worn pink slippers. All of the furniture matched—dark wood for every leg, frame, and surface, and deep emerald green for all of the upholstery—and was splashed with color in the form of a vase of tulips Ellie had just put in the middle of the dining table, a bright yellow blanket spread across an armchair, a cushion with a cartoon Labrador on it, and more picture frames.

The TV situated opposite of the fireplace had football on. Most of the first floor was open-concept, so I could easily see Ellie preparing four mugs after we all agreed we could use some coffee. Cass had just offered to help carry our luggage upstairs, when loud squealing from the hallway interrupted all of us.

Next thing I knew, I was being pulled into a second bear hug in under five minutes, by the second Moran woman. "Hi!" Stella screeched into my ear, lightly bouncing while she had her arms around my neck; I laughed as I hugged her back, catching Ellie's startled face before she quickly averted her gaze from us to the kettle. "I can't believe you're here!"

Me neither, I almost said; what actually came out of my mouth was, "I know. It was about damn time."

"Thank you," she unexpectedly whispered. "For everything."

She pulled away, her beaming face saying everything she couldn't say in front of her mom and oldest brother; I hoped that my surprised face, widened eyes, and unnatural smile were a suitable response.

"Baby, you wanna have coffee with us?"

"Hell yes!"

Ellie glanced up at her daughter. "On second thought, you might not need the caffeine."

///

The first time I actually felt I could breathe was a few minutes later, when Harry closed the door of his room after we'd excused ourselves to unpack. It had occurred to me that my lungs have been fighting for their life since I'd picked up my suitcase at baggage reclaim in Denver.

"Okay, you can breathe now," he said, and I grinned through my exhaustion upon hearing my own thoughts. He pushed our suitcases against a wall and turned to me, and there was a warmth in my chest I hadn't felt since before the flight. Since before the stress of (the thought of) meeting his family. A tiny, little hop of my heart. "You did it. And you did so good."

He cupped his hands around his mouth as he approached me, mimicking a roaring crowd, and this time, I did laugh. I laughed and felt my cheeks heat up and felt my stomach turn. "Seriously, you don't have to worry about a thing. They all love you. Dad's also gonna love you, whenever he comes back from the garage. You did buy him a magnet, after all."

"I was just worried about saying something stupid," I admitted. "Haven't considered worrying about what they think of me. Huh."

"And, hey." Harry's hands were on either side of my face now, and my absent gaze met his. His worried, amused, warm gaze. Pretty gaze. The prettiest eyes in all of Colorado. Jesus. "Hey, we're not gonna start considering it now either. Okay? Not touching that. With a ten-foot pole. Everything is perfect. Everything is how it's supposed to be."

His thumb stroked my cheekbone while we watched each other. My heart did another stupid hop. Oh, God, I am crushing on you so hard, Harry Moran.

"Wanna unpack first and then get coffee, or-?"

"No," I blurted, responding perhaps a bit too quickly; I blinked and added, "No, uh, I really- I really need that coffee. I think I'm starting to crash from all the traffic I participated in today." I gave a firm nod. "Coffee first."

"Alright."

He opened the door for me, and I threw a quick glance at my suitcase before we left his room.

hi friends! i died writing this chapter (deleted multiple 3k+ word versions and rewrote it from scratch every time) so i hope you like it!

i also wanted to say how i don't have face claims for any of the characters here HOWEVER cass is very specifically jensen ackles in dawson's creek (did i have this in mind back in 2023 when i named this version of jensen cass? no (did i care to change it? also no))

anyway, happy holidays and see you soon with more of harry and evie ❀