| CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
| emotional attachment

ᴏᴀᴋʟᴇʏ ᴄᴀʀʀɪʟʟᴏ

The more time we spent, the quieter he became. Our conversations were now mostly one-sided as he answered 'yes' and 'no' to things that weren't yes or no questions.

I left it as it was, assuming that if he wanted to talk about it, he would. In the meantime, I left a movie playing in the background while I had my laptop on my lap and my headphones on, working on a piece of a song I'd recorded earlier in the day as Hanna was late and I needed some time to kill. It was all freestyle, but I knew I could find a way to make it work.

I was listening to the changes I'd made to the production, but Nolan tapped my shoulder, so I took the headphones off and let them hang around my neck.

"Hey," I said, turning around so I could face him. He did the same, and took my hand, his fingers snaking and tangling into my own.

"I'm nervous," he confessed, his eyes immediately darting down to our hands.

"I know," I said. "But you don't have to be. I bet my parents will be excited to meet you."

"You haven't told them?" he asked, his eyes meeting mine for only a fraction of a second before looking past me first, and then darting back down to our entwined fingers. His hands were warm, and so were his cheeks.

I shook my head, I hadn't gotten around to doing it yet. But I didn't want this to worry him, so I used my free hand to reach out to his cheek, and I used my thumb to caress it as his eyes finally held mine.

"You're what makes me happy, and that's all they ever want for me."

He forced out a tight-lipped smile. He didn't believe me, which was understandable after what happened with his dad today. I didn't want to stress him out by giving him the opportunity to overthink, so I pulled at his hands.

"We should go downstairs. My mom could come home any moment now."

"Wait, is there anything I should know? Do I look alright? Because I was dressed to play male stripper off duty. I haven't touched my hair since I woke up and—"

"You look good," I assured him. He'd never let me in on his train of thoughts like that before, but I loved that he felt safe enough to share his irrational and frantic thought process with me for once. "I'm kinda glad you didn't end up auditioning, though."

"Right, because you want me all to yourself, is that it?" he asked with a grin. "For your information, no nudity was required for that movie. And even if it were, you'd be the only one allowed to touch."

"Pervert!" I said, tackling him as I covered his lips with my hands. His face grew redder through his stifled laughter. "No pervert behavior around my parents, please."

He pulled my hands from his face and quickly released a string of words. "Does that mean that once we're alone—"

I covered his mouth again, and he stopped fighting, only staring at me with sparkly eyes filled with nothing but happiness and peace and love—all of it for me.

He pulled at my arms slightly, so I let go of his face and placed my forearms at the sides of his head. His fingers traced over the sides of my body where my t-shirt had climbed up slightly.

"Are you just going to continue to eye-fuck me or will you finally kiss me?" he asked, his eyes stuck on my lips as his hands pulled at my sides in an attempt to bring me closer.

"I'm not eye-fucking you. I'm just admiring your beauty."

"If you weren't such a prude, I would've thought you were sarcastic."

I rolled my eyes, and quickly pecked his lips before getting off him. "Come on. I really need some water, I'm getting a bit lightheaded."

•••

Some baseball game was playing, and although he was watching it, I knew his mind was elsewhere. But I didn't say anything as I knew he'd tell me if there were any big concerns. It remained quiet for quite a while before he talked to me.

"Are you not nervous?" he asked.

I turned around to look at him. We were only a few inches apart as I actually wanted to tell my parents instead of letting them find out themselves like Nolan did. At first, I didn't understand why he wanted to come out to them the way he did, but after today, I had a feeling it was because they might've reacted differently if I weren't there with him, or if he made a big deal out of it.

"A little bit," I said, answering his question. There was this tightness in my chest that made breathing a little bit harder than usual, and I hadn't felt hungry since the morning, resulting in me skipping lunch entirely. "I don't know why. I know they won't mind."

His green eyes met mine, and for a moment I found myself lost in them, unaware of his fingers tangling themselves into mine.

He flashed me a little smile and it was like my heart stopped beating and the world stopped spinning. As he looked at me, my mind found itself replaying every single moment he smiled at me.

Back when we weren't even friends yet, after he had that panic attack in the bathroom and he told me I shouldn't let myself be taken advantage of. And when we were at Genevieve's release party for Marionette, and I sang him that song that didn't quite touch him the way I wanted it to. And that day when I tried to teach him how to play guitar, and it felt like he was the sun that burnt my skin on a clear summer day with every close contact.

I had a hard time distinguishing my feelings from one another, but I knew for sure that I would be happy spending the rest of my life waking up every morning with him next to me, and going to bed every night with his kiss good night.

Love isn't one emotion. Love is happiness when the other person is around, and anxiety when they're hurt as you want them to feel better. Love is affection, whatever that means for every individual, but it is also heartache when either one does something to hurt the other. It's passion, it's delusion, it's security, it's frustration.

It's everything but a single emotion. It's an emotional attachment.

"I love you, Nolan," I said, smiling back at him.

His face displayed a range of emotions. At first, his smile grew larger, until it shrank again and he looked away.

"I love you too," he said, and although I knew that he meant it, it felt empty.

I wanted to ask him about what was on his mind, but the sound of the lock on the front door made me push that conversation to later. It was better this way, maybe he needed some time to collect his thoughts too.

He was about to pull our hands apart but I held his more tightly as he quickly stood up, his face red as my mom appeared from behind the wall.

"Hi, Mom," I said, my heart breathing in my chest so quickly that the world around me felt slow.

She raised an eyebrow, looking at Nolan and smiling softly at him.

"You never bring friends home," she said, not noticing our entwined fingers as Nolan had naturally found a way to somewhat hide behind me.

"This is Nolan, my boyfriend."

"Nice to meet you, ma'am," he said, stuttering a bit more than usual, but he did find the courage to no longer hide behind me and let go of my hand to shake my mom's.

My mom looked at me, giving me that same look she gave Trisha whenever she showed her a picture of a guy she liked, or whenever she showed her another picture of someone I was supposedly dating. Usually it was followed by 'Oh, she's cute. When do we get to meet her?' which clearly wasn't the case now.

My mom first gave Nolan a firm handshake, but then she swiftly pulled him in a hug, and I rolled my eyes.

"You're so polite, just call me Nia."

"Mom," I whined as she was embarrassing me, to which Nolan let out a small laugh.

She let go of my boyfriend and turned to me. "Why didn't you tell me about this? This explains why you're never home anymore. Oh, I gotta tell your dad to come home to meet him." She then turned back to Nolan, not even giving me the chance to reply to anything she said before. "Are you staying for dinner?"

He looked at me first before replying. "Yes, if that's okay with you," he said softly.

My mom nodded with a grin. "Of course it is."

"Actually, can he stay over for tonight?" I asked, knowing Nolan would rather go back home than ask that question himself, and I didn't want him to get any more upset today.

"Sure, I don't see why not," my mom replied with a grin as she clasped her hands together in front of her face to hide the grin I could still see lingering in her eyes.

"Perfect," I said. "We'll be in my room."

"Okay, if you need me, I'm in my office," she said, her eyes staying on mine for a little longer. I could tell this conversation wasn't yet over for her. I nodded at her, a silent promise that I'll come talk to her soon, and then I took Nolan's hand again to drag him towards my room.

"Are you good?" I asked him, closing my door behind me.

"Yeah," he said with a sigh, like he'd been holding his breath for a while now. "That wasn't too bad, was it?"

I watched the relieved face he carried just seconds ago fade into one with more concern.

"It wasn't bad at all," I assured him. "If my mom doesn't immediately excuse herself and leave, that means she likes you."

"Really?" The frown on his forehead slowly faded, becoming less pronounced by the second.

"Yeah."

He fell silent for a second, and his eyes were stuck on our feet, then he gently pulled me into a hug, burying his face in the crook of my neck.

I hugged him back, not thinking too much of it as we stood there, hugging in silence. I pressed a kiss against his head and closed my eyes.

I didn't know how long we stood there, but the memory of my mom's curious eyes came back to me, reminding me that she wanted to talk to me.

"Hey, how about you make yourself comfortable here? I'm just gonna have to talk to my mom for a bit."

He nodded, a small smile once again on his lips.

"No gossip about me, alright?" he joked, and I chuckled.

"Only about how pretty you are," I said.

•••

My mom was on the phone when I entered her office. I sat on the chair she'd always kept next to the door and waited for her to finish her phone call, and it didn't take too long. When she eventually did put the phone down, she grinned at me, and I couldn't help but match her expression.

"Your boyfriend, huh?" she asked.

"Please don't make it a big deal," I asked her. "I don't want you or Dad to scare him away."

"What about your sister? She's the most likely to scare him away."

"They've met," I said. "Briefly, but he's prepared."

"She knows?" my mom asked, resting her chin on her hands, which were propped up with her elbows on her desk.

I shrugged. "She knew before I did."

"I always keep saying you're the book smart one and she's the practically smart one."

"Right, and you're both and Dad is neither."

"Exactly," she said, chuckling to herself. "I'm kidding. Your dad can read people like a book, but he'll have to meet them to do so."

"I know."

He once kicked someone out of his restaurant without any apparent reason, but as the man made a scene about it, a woman at one of the other tables revealed that he'd been stalking her and that she had a restraining order against him. Dad knew from the moment the man walked through the door that he was going to cause trouble. This happened when I was still a kid, and ever since then, I decided to trust my dad's instinct with things like these.

"But what I wanted to talk to you about... do you remember that conversation we had a few years back?"

"What conversation?"

My mom raised her eyebrows as though that was supposed to help me understand, so I only narrowed my eyes at her.

"Safe and enthusiastic? That you're both boys doesn't mean the same rules don't apply."

"Mom," I groaned.

"I know you're active. If you didn't want me to know, you should've hidden that bruise better."

"I'm not stupid, I know how it works," I mumbled. Sometimes I still felt like a teenager, still living at home and all. But I never liked being alone, so there really was no incentive for me to leave.

"I just had to make sure," she said. "I can tell that you're happy. He seems sweet, but I'll have to wait on your father's perspective for that."

"Well, I think Dad will like him." They had a lot in common. My dad was not as anxious around people, but he was rather shy. They both liked cooking and baking. My dad loved it when people didn't let themselves be walked all over.

"Then I'm happy for you, Oakley."

"When you call him, please make sure he'll stick to the rules." I had made up some rules for when my parents got to meet any other celebrities. No matter how much they liked them, they should never mention anything rumored about in the media, they should never google them, and they should never mention their famous family members—which I knew was the most difficult part for my dad.

"I'll make sure. Now don't leave him up there by himself. You're a terrible host."

I rolled my eyes, but left the room as I was told.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Sorry for the late late late update. I was planning on posting more in June (pride month yk) but I was weirdly busy. Still kinda am but I'm training myself to write more in less time as I can be slow as fuck due to overthinking things. I can always go back to edit later after all.

Anyway, I hope you haven't missed me too much! And thank you for 2k reads! ❤️

Love u all <3