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Adaine Abernant is crying in her bedroom.
This isn’t something new, she’s done this a million times at least over her sixteen years. But this time isn’t just about cruel treatment, neglect, and all of the awful experiences her parents have put her through. This is about her future being ripped out of her hands. Her ability to control her own destiny.
“We’re looking for a suitor for you,” Angwyn had said as he cut into his steak as if this wasn’t something earth-shattering, “One that’ll suit our political needs.”
Later, he’d said, “You don’t need to love him, Adaine, stop crying, you just need to be able to act as if you do.”
Adaine’s crying because suddenly she feels her agency being ripped from her. She’s helpless in this house. She can’t make her own decisions and she can’t choose what she wants. Her fate lies in Angwyn Abernant’s hands.
They keep the “useless” one around just to play her like a pawn in a political chess game, sacrificing her for the greater good of the family. Aelwyn doesn’t get this type of treatment. Why does she? Is she really and truly the only one they do not love?
She picks up her phone, the one she’s not supposed to have, and texts the one friend with a vehicle, and is thankful for autocorrect’s ability to fix her spelling mistakes from shaky hands.
Adaine: Can you pick me up? You have to go out back to the gardens where they won’t hear you.
There’s hardly a beat before he responds.
Fabian: On my way.
Adaine hates how her heart skips at his immediate response. She’s not supposed to feel like this for anyone. Not after today. Not after Angwyn’s bombshell of a comment at dinner. She packs some things into her backpack. Her jean jacket is tossed over her body. She stuffs her notebooks into her bag with her textbooks, along with some basic clothes that she’s taken from Kristen and Fig, and the things she bought with Fabian’s money.
She slides out of her window easily, dropping into the flower bushes. She can’t avoid the thorns pricking her and the blood trickling down her calf from her stupid Hudol skirt exposing her legs to the thorns. She wants to rip it off, but she can’t leave it out in the open like that.
She creeps through the gardens of the Abernant estate, pristinely kept. She finally makes it to the outer edge, slipping through the wrought iron gate and sitting against the stone wall, tucking herself into a small little ball and praying that nobody but Fabian Aramais Seacaster finds her. She wipes the blood on her leg with the stupid Hudol blazer and squeezes her eyes shut.
The Hangman’s rumble is familiar and comforting to Adaine as Fabian pulls up, and she opens her watery eyes to look at him. He’s in his pajamas. Of course , she startles him from his early bedtime. Of course, she’s burdening him with driving all the way here. Of course, she’s a fucking problem, because why wouldn’t she be such a problem?
But he’s not treating her like a problem. He’s down on her level, and he’s saying something but she can’t hear it because her thoughts are so loud, and now he’s guiding her to stand and get on the Hangman, putting her helmet on and, oh God, he’s touching me and I’m sitting here blubbering like a goddamn idiot , is running through her head over and over.
“Adaine,” His voice finally cuts through. It’s not his usual loud, boisterous voice, it’s much softer and gentle and it makes Adaine’s heart twist in a funny way that she doesn’t want it to anymore because as soon as Angwyn has a boy for her to marry, she’ll have to give this part of her up and it’s breaking her down, “You have to hold onto me. We’ve gotta head back.”
Her fingers are shaking against his stomach. She knows he can feel it while they ride. She’s trying to take deep breaths and quiet her crying, but it’s almost impossible because dinner keeps replaying in her head over and over, and her stomach hurts because she hasn’t eaten since breakfast that morning now.
They arrive at Seacaster manor and Adaine’s cried out. Her eyes hurt and her stomach is aching so badly from both the heaving sobs and the lack of food. He helps her off and the first thing he does after putting the bike away is grab the first aid kit off the garage shelf to clean her cuts from the thorns.
“You don’t have to,” She manages to say as he bends down and starts wiping at the dried blood, “It’s fine, Fabian.” Deep down, this feels nice. But she can’t let it. She has to detach from him. Because it’ll just break her fucking heart when she’s getting married to some political ally of her father’s son and it’s not him in front of her, as much as she doesn’t want to think about how good it sounds to have Fabian on the other side.
He bandages her cuts anyway. He brings her inside. His father’s not home and neither is his mother. Cathilda is in the kitchen, and she smiles politely at Adaine, but there’s worry in her eyes when Fabian takes her aside, leaving Adaine alone in the nautical-themed kitchen. It’s a pretty light blue, Adaine’s favorite color, and everything has seashells or pirate memorabilia on it.
Cathilda comes back in and places a gentle hand on Adaine’s arm. “Would you like something to eat, Miss Adaine?” She never calls her Miss Abernant, even when they first met and Adaine introduced herself by her full name. Adaine swallows as Fabian raises his eyebrows at her. “Mister Fabian said he’d eat with you.”
“Um,” Adaine’s stomach gives her away. “Okay.” She nods. “That would be okay.” Fabian’s got her by the arm, so gently, and is taking her into the beautiful living room where Adaine can see the water from. It’s the same view as his bedroom. Not that Adaine’s ever been in there for more than a few minutes and never just the two of them alone. He sits with her on the couch and lets her watch the sun setting over the water before he talks.
“What happened this time?” He asks. Adaine draws her knees to her chest.
“They want to, um,” She doesn’t know how else to put it, “Find me a boyfriend, no, husband, to h-help Dad’s campaign.” All of the anxiety starts rushing back to her. “I-I don’t get a choice. D-Dad said I have to.” She wipes at her eyes with her sleeve. She hates this. She hates burdening people with her problems. Especially when this person is someone she has a crush on, of all people, it had to be Fabian she texted. Fabian nods, and Adaine can see his hand twitching, whether to strike someone or something in proximity to her father, to take his feelings out on something, or maybe even to touch her, she isn’t sure. But he does pull her into an embrace and holds her quietly for a few minutes. His hand is rubbing circles into her back.
“We won’t let that happen.” He says confidently. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
If only it was ever that easy
, she thinks as he holds her for a long time. Until Cathilda tells them that food is ready, and Adaine scarfs down a much bigger bowl of shrimp scampi than Fabian has. She hardly cares because it tastes so good and she’s so hungry.
“Come upstairs,” He says to her softly once she’s done arguing with Cathilda about doing her own dish, and she wins because Cathilda sees how desperate Adaine is for something to control. “Come upstairs. You can shower in my bathroom. You can stay in my room if you wish. The sheets were changed today.” Adaine’s brain is short-circuiting at these prospects.
She just nods and lets him lead her upstairs. His room faces the water, and it’s meticulously clean for his teenage boy jock self. She stands awkwardly as he rifles through his closet.
“I don’t need…” She trails off as he hands her that stupid football sweatshirt that has been the subject of her stupid lovesick puppy daydreams. It’s not his letterman jacket, she can never dream of that. But it’s so big and so comfortable-looking, and he always brags about how soft it is.
“I think you should, um, put it on after your shower,” Fabian says. “It’s soft.”
She showers in Fabian’s bathroom and she finds rose-scented shampoo. She wonders who knows it’s her favorite. She towels herself off after rinsing herself in scalding hot water, her skin bright pink and red from the heat. She puts on the sweatshirt and a pair of pajama shorts Fig gave her. They’ve got little rainbows on them. She thinks they’re cute.
Fabian’s eyes travel over her when she comes back, putting her dirty laundry back in her backpack. She looks over at him and he’s got his arms held out for her.
Her heart is broken.
She climbs into his arms anyway. He’s sitting at his desk, and they’re squished into his desk chair. He runs his fingers through her wet hair and lets her cry for a long, long time.
“I’m so sorry,” Adaine manages.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Fabian says, “The only person who does is your father, who’ll be really sorry once Papa and I get our hands on him.” He says it in a gentle voice, but the malice is strong in the words.
“You’ll be in trouble,” Adaine’s breathing is off. “You’re going to get in trouble if I’m here.” Her brain wants her to move, to get out of this house to avoid endangering Fabian and his family, but her limbs are so heavy. He’s also got a decent grip on her. He’s hugging her to his chest, and the pressure is actually really good for her anxiety.
“You’re not leaving,” Fabian says, “Not…not right now. You can stay with me. It’s okay.” He shushes her, runs his fingers through her hair, rubs her back, he does everything he can to comfort her. This isn’t helping Adaine’s heart.
Her eyes are heavy when she pulls on his sleeve. They’ve been sitting like this for a while. Adaine’s so tired. The anxiety coursing through her veins has given way. She’s now drained and tired Adaine. Tired Adaine has less inhibition.
He looks down at her, his eyepatch gone to show his scar. She reaches up with shaky fingers and traces it. His scar is from a fight he got into. She doesn’t know what it was about, but he’s got a scar over his eye.
“I like it,” She murmurs. “The scar.”
“I’m not a huge fan,” He grumbles, standing up with her still wrapped around him.
“I think it makes you look nice,” She hums as they get into bed. “Dashing is a nice word for it.”
“How tired are you?” He asks, letting her roll onto her side. Everything about this is screaming, Bad idea! Bad idea! The boy you’re in love with but shouldn’t be anymore is letting you sleep in his bed! Maybe with him, but Adaine hardly cares right now because her eyes are so heavy.
“Very,” She murmurs. He’s also so warm. Adaine’s always cold. “I’m so cold.”
“I know,” Fabian pulls the blankets over her, “I can tell.” He brushes some hair from her face. “Goodnight, Adaine.”
“Are you going to stay?” There’s her lack of inhibition. “I really like it when you hug me.” Her words are a bit slurred from how tired she is, and he’s got to be blushing. He nods.
“I, uh, I can stay. Yeah.”
Adaine wakes up to the sound of waves crashing against the shore, and Fabian’s snoring in her ear. Of course, he snores. That makes perfect sense. Her head hurts and her mouth feels so dry, but she’s not cold, she’s actually warm . The sweatshirt is so soft. She doesn’t want to give it back.
She slips out of bed and walks over to her backpack, checking her phone. It’s been plugged in.
Fig: Adaine
Fig: Addie my best friend
Fig: Fabian texted me and let me know youre at his
Fig: I think you should tell him!! Do it!! Ayda and I have so much faith in you!!
Adaine gulps back the sob that’s already building in her throat as she grabs her clothes for the day and goes to get changed. She doesn’t want to walk out on Fabian, but she’s so scared of Angwyn. Angwyn getting anywhere near Fabian and his family makes her so upset.
“Adaine?”
Fabian’s voice is thick and heavy with sleep when he knocks lightly on the bathroom door.
“Y-Yeah,” Adaine calls back, “I’ll be out in a minute.” She pulls her skirt on. It’s the stupid Hudol skirt. She opens the door, holding out his sweatshirt. He looks down before pushing it back to her.
“Put it back on,” He says, “You’re not going home, who’s going to make fun of you?” She looks down at the fabric in her hand.
“Fabian, he’s going to–”
“He won’t, Adaine, I promise,” Fabian takes her free hand in his and links their pinkies together. “And even if he does, I really don’t care. Because I…” He clears his throat and Adaine swears he’s blushing, “Because I just spent the night with his daughter in my bed and that was everything freshman year Fabian dreamed of, alright?”
Adaine’s senses go blank.
“I don’t know how to make it clearer, I even asked Fig for help, and she told me about how you told her that you really like this sweatshirt, so I thought if I gave it to you maybe you’d want to talk about it and…” He’s so stressed. Adaine manages to squeak out an affirmative response.
Then, she drops it to the floor and pulls him in for a kiss, claiming her agency.
It’s everything she’s been thinking about, and it’s easy and wonderful. He’s got his arms around her now, and he’s holding her close and he pulls away for a moment to catch his breath.
“So this means you like me, right?” He asks and Adaine gains some confidence.
“I thought that was perfectly clear,” She whispers back with a smile, “That yes, I, Adaine Abernant, like you, Fabian Aramais Seacaster.”
School on Monday is supposed to go as normal. But the new addition of Fabian’s football sweatshirt disrupts everything in the friend group.
Group chat between: Kristen, Fig, Adaine
Fig: ADDIE
Fig: WHAT THE HELL
Fig: YOU DIDN’T TELL ME ABOUT THIS
Kristen: hey whats going on lol tracker’s gonna be late driving me
Fig: ADAINE HAS THE SWEATSHIRT ON
Adaine: It’s really not that big of a deal.
Kristen: YES IT IS
Fig: ADDIE I LOVE YOU BUT YOU ARE SO AWFUL AT COMMUNICATING WHEN YOU GO AND KISS YOUR CRUSH WITHOUT TELLING ANY OF US
Fabian’s laughing, reading it over Adaine’s shoulder in the corner of the school library she always frequents in the mornings. Adaine’s blushing but she smiles at her phone anyway.
Adaine: Come to the library when you get here!
They do, and Adaine recounts most of their weekend activities, leaving out the why behind all of it and the fact that she and Fabian didn’t make it to dinner the night before because Adaine was holding him, hostage, by napping on top of him after cramming in homework all day. She’s happy and she’s comfortable with his arm around her while she recounts the story, and Fig later sends her a picture of them talking and he’s watching her with all of the care he has for her in his eyes. It’s Adaine’s new screensaver.
She can confidently say that she’s not getting married to some wussy political ally’s son. She’s much more interested in sea-faring dancer Fabian Aramais Seacaster than any political boy.