8. home with you

Third Person's PoV

Kian gazed at Skyler with a warm smile, admiring her petite figure swathed in his oversized hoodie and sweatpants. The clothes hung on her like a child's playful disguise, endearing and whimsical. With a gentle touch, he brushed aside her bangs, revealing the sparkling blue eyes that he found so captivating. His thumb grazed her soft, rosy cheek before he planted a tender kiss on her forehead.

"H-hello," Skyler murmured, her lips curving into a pout that was both adorable and heartwrenching. She cocked her head to the side, reminiscent of an inquisitive puppy, her innocence palpable.

"Ready to go?" Kian's voice was soft, filled with an affection that was as natural as breathing.

He opened the passenger door with care, guiding Skyler's little form into the seat with a gentleness that spoke volumes of his protective nature. Another kiss graced her forehead, a silent promise of safety and comfort.

"Mhm, y-yes, Kian," she responded, her voice a whisper of gratitude and trust.

Kian couldn't help but marvel at her, his heart swelling with a sense of fortune he couldn't quite fathom. How had he become so lucky to have this angel in his life?

"You know how to lock your seatbelt, Little Sky?" he inquired, his tone playful yet laced with concern.

Skyler nodded, her actions vigorous and determined. Her small hands worked the seatbelt with surprising adeptness, securing herself in the seat as Kian watched, a proud smile tugging at his lips. Once satisfied that she was comfortable and safe, he closed the door with a soft click and made his way to the driver's seat. The anticipation of spending time with his little girl filled him with an indescribable joy.

Skyler, often called 'Little Sky' by Kian, hesitated as the car's engine roared to life. The sound, a deep and rumbling beast, made her flinch—a stark contrast to the quiet safety she had found in Kian's presence. Kian, ever attentive, noticed the tension in her posture, the way she seemed to shrink into herself.

"Shh, it's just the car, Sky," Kian soothed, his voice a gentle balm. "It won't hurt us, I promise. Try to relax for me, okay? You're safe here." He glanced at her with concern, regretting the choice of vehicle that seemed to unsettle her. "I'm sorry, next time I'll make sure we use a quieter car—"

But Skyler interrupted him, her hand reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. It was a simple gesture, but it carried the weight of her trust and gratitude. Kian could feel the tension melting away under her touch.

"It's okay, Kian. R-really, it's alright. I'm okay," she reassured him, her voice steady despite the lingering fear. As she felt Kian relax, she withdrew her hand and bowed her head, her fingers nervously intertwining in her lap.

Skyler was a beacon of resilience, her past marred by shadows that often threatened to darken her present. Yet, she was a survivor, her spirit unyielding against the adversities she had faced. The kindness and safety she found in her friendship with Kian were like a balm to her scars, both visible and hidden within the recesses of her heart. Her connection to Bren, her cherished stuffed animal, was a testament to her enduring innocence and the comfort she sought in the familiar.

Kian, aware of the delicate tendrils of trust that Skyler extended towards him, tread lightly around her fears. The simple rumble of his car's engine, a sound so mundane to others, was a thunderous roar to Skyler's sensitive ears. He recognized the tremors it sent through her, the way her eyes would dart around, seeking assurance that all was well. It pained him to see her so, to witness the world's harshness reflected in her wary gaze.

"Baby, please don't bow or hide your face from me," Kian implored gently, his voice a soft caress against the tumult of her fears. "I don't want you feeling shy or embarrassed. It's just me, okay?"

He reached out, his hands steady as they cradled her fidgeting ones, a silent promise of safety in his touch. With a tenderness that spoke volumes, he coaxed her to lift her gaze, to share with him the beauty of her face that she so often concealed. The moment her teeth released the captive flesh of her lower lip, a blush painted her cheeks a delicate shade of rose.

"I'm e-embarrassed," she confessed in a whisper, the words barely escaping the confines of her lips.

A small pout took shape, an endearing display of her vulnerability, as Kian's thumb brushed against the lip she had been worrying. In that instant, Skyler was the epitome of innocence, her beauty magnified in her bashfulness. And to Kian, she was nothing short of exquisite—a beautiful baby, so utterly cute in her embarrassment.

Kian's gaze lingered on Skyler, his eyes tracing the contours of her face, where every emotion played out like a delicate dance of light and shadow. "Why? Why would you be embarrassed with me? It is just me," he said, his words a gentle echo in the quiet room.

Skyler's response came in halting breaths, her stutter a melody of uncertainty and fear. "I don't k-know. But why are you t-telling me that it is just you? That's kind of crazy because no one ever said that to me. B-because I know that some will think that saying that makes them less of a man, I know s-someone," she confessed, the hurt clear in her eyes, a mirror to her soul's bruises.

With a tenderness that belied the strength of his frame, Kian enveloped her hands within his own, a silent vow of protection. "It gives me assurance that you are safe with me, that I will not hurt you in any possible ways. I know it might sound crazy to others because it will just lower their pride to some extent, but to me, it's like my comforting words for you. I'm sorry, does that bother you, baby?" His voice was a soft caress, seeking to soothe her fears.

Her eyes, a brilliant shade of blue, held his with an intensity that spoke volumes. They were the color of the sky on a clear summer day, deep and fathomless, a testament to the emotions they concealed. In their gaze, Kian found his sanctuary, his comfort zone. Home.

Home.

He was home now, with his beautiful Sky. Her name was as fitting as the hue of her eyes, a bright blue that cradled emotions as vast as the heavens themselves. Gazing into them, Kian's heart swelled with a smile, finding comfort, confidence, and the strength he so desperately sought.

"No! It d-doesn't bother me, Kian. It comforts me too. W-when I heard you say it, it's like giving me a h-hundred reasons not to be afraid of you or any other man that might hurt me, k-knowing you'll protect me against them," Skyler replied, her voice gaining strength from his presence, her fears dissipating like shadows at dawn.

In the soft glow of the car's interior, Kian's voice was a gentle balm, soothing the frayed edges of Skyler's nerves. "I won't hurt you, okay baby? And yes, I'll protect you," he assured her, his words wrapping around her like a protective shield.

Skyler, her anxiety a tangible presence in the cramped space, bit her lower lip—a silent plea for reassurance. "C-can we go now? I n-need Bren," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

A chuckle escaped Kian's lips, light and unburdened, as he released her hands. They had ceased their nervous dance, settling into a hesitant stillness. "Of course, baby. Now, it's time for the questions and answers game," he declared, a secret amusement dancing in his eyes.

The game was a ruse, a clever ploy to distract her from the lingering shadows of her past sorrows. Skyler's confusion was evident in her furrowed brow. "T-the what?" she inquired, a flicker of curiosity breaking through her apprehension.

Kian's explanation was a melody of promises and playfulness. "It's called questions and answers because we will both think of a question to ask each other, and we will both answer it. Like, I can ask you, do you have any siblings. You answer it, and I'll answer it too. Don't worry, I have a feeling we'll both enjoy it. And I'm excited to know you more, baby," he said, his voice a tender caress against the backdrop of their shared uncertainty.

The prospect of ice cream after the game, a sweet treat to follow their shared confessions, was a beacon of normalcy. "Mhm, of course, we will have an ice cream after the game…uh-oh, I think after the police then we go and get Bren. How does that sound? Are you okay with it?" Kian asked, his concern for her comfort evident in every syllable.

With both hands firmly on the steering wheel, Kian was the picture of responsibility. The urge to comfort Skyler with a reassuring touch was strong, but he resisted, unwilling to compromise her safety as she began to fidget once more. In this moment, Kian was both her guardian and her anchor, steadfast in the storm of her fears.

Skyler's fidgets were a silent symphony of her inner turmoil, each movement a note of nervousness that Kian read with a tender heart. "C-can it be Bren before ice c-cream? I want to eat the ice cream at home with you and watch a movie. Is it o-okay?" she asked, her voice a delicate tremble in the quiet of the car.

Kian's response was immediate, his voice a warm embrace. "Oh! It sounds great, baby! My home or yours?" he inquired, the corners of his mouth lifting in a smile that reached his eyes.

"Y-yours," Skyler replied, her answer a whisper of trust that filled the space between them with an unspoken promise of safety.

Kian's smile broadened, a testament to the joy her words brought him. "Mhm, I can't wait to watch a movie with you, baby, my little Sky," he said, the endearment a gentle caress that seemed to still some of her fidgeting.

The possibility of sharing ice cream and Disney movies together sparked a new light in Skyler's eyes. "Is it r-really okay to eat ice cream and watch Disney m-movies with you?" she asked, seeking confirmation of the simple pleasures that awaited them.

Kian nodded, his affirmation accompanied by a soft hum of agreement before he sighed, a silent vow to ease her worries. "Of course! But why are you fidgeting, baby? Are you nervous?" he asked gently, his concern for her well-being as palpable as the evening air.

"Y-yes," came Skyler's soft admission, her vulnerability laid bare in the confines of their shared space.

Kian leaned closer, his presence a steady anchor in the choppy seas of her anxiety. "But why? I'm here, little Sky. Hmm-mm, I'm always here, okay?" he reassured her, his words a lighthouse guiding her to calmer waters.

"I'm s-sorry," Skyler whispered, her apology a feather-light touch against the fabric of their conversation.

Kian shook his head, his gaze briefly meeting her hands, now resting peacefully on her lap. "No! Don't be sorry, okay? It's completely okay. I'm not mad," he assured her, his smile a silent celebration of her newfound calm.

"S-so? I can ask first?" Skyler ventured, her question a tentative step towards the game that promised to bridge the gap between their worlds.

Kian's nod was eager, his anticipation for her questions a clear sign of his desire to understand her better, to provide a haven of normalcy amidst the chaos. As they journeyed towards the police station, Kian was determined to keep Skyler's nerves at bay, to transform the car into a cocoon of comfort where her laughter would soon replace the echoes of her tears.

Kian's gaze softened as Skyler mustered the courage to ask about his surname, her voice a delicate murmur in the quiet room. "Um, w-what's your surname?" she inquired, a hint of shyness dancing in her words.

"Rossi," Kian declared with a fondness that echoed through the space between them. He shared the endearing tale of his heritage, a blend of Italian vigor and American grace. His mother's adoration for the name 'Rossi' was a family legend, one that spoke of a love so profound it rivaled the stars themselves. As Kian recounted memories of familial warmth and laughter, it was clear these were the threads that wove the fabric of his being.

Skyler's curiosity bloomed into awe as she processed the story. "R-really? T-that's really sooo-oo c-cute. D-does your Papa doesn't e-ever get mad?" she stammered, her eyes wide with the innocence of a child.

A chuckle rumbled from Kian's chest, the sound rich with affection. "No, Papa loves her teasing," he assured her, his mind painting the image of his father's indulgent smiles and his mother's playful jibes. It was a dance of love and humor, a testament to the joy that filled their home.

"C-cute," Skyler whispered, the word floating like a feather in the air. She then shared a piece of herself, her own name a whisper in the vastness of their shared moment. "M-mine's Greene," she revealed.

Kian's response was immediate, a gentle affirmation of her identity. "Ohh, that's a great surname, my little Sky. Mhmm, Sky Greene, sounds beautiful," he said, his voice a soothing balm that wrapped around her like a warm embrace. In that exchange, Kian saw not just a name, but a reflection of Skyler herself—unique, vibrant, and utterly captivating.

***

Mary Joye.