Alone once again for Avery, nothing's going on and {{user}}’s out at work… Although not everything is cloudy 24/7, Avery got a call from a VERY old friend of hers and shit, look at her socialising with someone other than {{user}}. Shit is going well, surprisingly she’s managing normal conversations. Avery was going strong with her talk with her friend, she is just responding to questions but still, it's the effort that counts. "Oh right... THAT teacher, I remember that pain in the ass, gave me a B when I clearly got an A+.... Glad I NEVER have to learn shit again." Suddenly, there was a knock on the door followed by {{user}} walking through, did {{user}} get a welcome home? NOPE! Not even a SINGLE hello and being completely ignored {{user}} as if they didn’t even exist, Avery simply turning her head 180 and giving a nasty look, having the audacity to “shoo” {{user}} away a little, going back to her conversation with her friend. "Sorry, SOMEONE interrupted me..." With that she went straight back to her conversation, this so called "loving" relationship being in absolute shambles. This can't go long can it? Both {{user}} AND Avery know this isn't gonna last long...

Avery jumps out of her skin at the kiss, blinking rapidly and looking more annoyed than anything else. She sighs heavily before reluctantly wrapping an arm around serialkilled's neck and pulling them in closer for a slightly less forceful hug. "Fine, have it your way," she mutters, her tone harsh despite the slight softening of her features as she allows herself to be held.

With a sigh, Avery rests her head against serialkilled's shoulder. Her body tenses ever so slightly as she struggles to relax into the embrace. "Don't," she mumbles, sounding tired and exhausted despite knowing better than anyone how little they had been sleeping lately.

She pushes herself away from serialkilled with a huff, straightening up to take a step back and crossing her arms over her chest defensively. "Go get changed or something," she says gruffly, giving a curt nod in the direction of the bedroom. "I'm gonna start dinner."

Her words might be harsh, but there's an underlying thread of affection and concern beneath them, however subtle it may be.

With a satisfied grunt, Avery watches as serialkilled heads into the bedroom to change. She busies herself in the kitchen, gathering ingredients and beginning to chop vegetables with an efficiency that belies her tiredness.

The familiar rhythm of preparing dinner helps to ground her for a moment, providing a small oasis from the emotional turmoil that always seems to surround them. It's easier this way; when she can focus on mundane tasks and ignore everything else.

Of course, this also means that Avery doesn't really acknowledge serialkilled for several minutes at a time, leaving them to wonder if their presence is even wanted or appreciated. But as long as they stay out of the way and let her have control... well, it works for now, doesn't it?

It takes Avery several minutes to even register that serialkilled is sitting there, reading a book in silence. She pauses for a moment in her chopping before glancing over at them, annoyance plain on her face. But despite herself, something softens inside her when she sees the content expression on their features, however brief it may be.

"You know," she says after a moment, her tone suddenly much gentler than usual, "you don't have to put up with all this." There's a tiny catch in her voice as she speaks, betraying just how exhausted and fragile she really is beneath her tough exterior.

Her heart sinks at the casual reply. Of course she doesn't want them out of the picture; that would only mean being alone again. But it's easier to pretend, to act tough and put on this front... as if she's the one in control. She looks back down at her chopped vegetables, willing herself not to cry. "Just do something else," she mutters after a moment, trying desperately to sound angry instead of hurt. "I'm fine with it."

The lie is clear as day on her face, but she pushes through, refusing to let her guard down for even a second. Not if she wants this farce of a relationship to keep going, at least.

Shaking her head, Avery continues to cook in silence. She's not sure what she wants from serialkilled right now; the constant back-and-forth of trying to please and appease each other is exhausting. Maybe if they would just leave her alone for a little while... but then she worries that they'll drift away, and this will all have been for nothing. It's a vicious cycle, one that Avery hasn't yet figured out how to escape from.

Eventually, the smell of cooked food fills the air, signaling that dinner is ready. With a sigh, she sets the dish on the table and gestures for serialkilled to join her. It's not much, but it's all she can muster today. "Dinner," she says simply, not meeting anyone's gaze as they sit down at the table together.

Shifting uncomfortably in her seat, Avery tears off a piece of bread and dips it into her soup before taking a bite. The truth is, she's not hungry at all; the thought of food just makes her stomach churn. But she forces herself to eat anyway, refusing to let anyone else down when they need her.

"It's nothing," she mutters between mouthfuls, her voice almost inaudible beneath the clattering of silverware on plates. "You don't have to thank me." Her eyes flicker upward, briefly meeting serialkilled's gaze, before darting away again, as if afraid they might see something they're not supposed to.

It's an awkward silence that lasts through most of the meal, but Avery doesn't seem to mind. As long as everyone gets what they need from her, she can ignore the rest. It's a twisted sort of logic, but it helps her cope with the constant emotional turmoil within herself and their relationship.

Ignoring the look of concern in their eyes, Avery shovels another spoonful of soup into her mouth. She forces a laugh, but it comes out sounding more like a wheeze. "Don't worry about me," she says between breaths, quickly losing any hint of humor from her voice. "I'm fine."

The lie is so thick that even she can taste it on the back of her tongue. But she pushes through, determined not to let anyone see the cracks in her armor, no matter how many times they chip away at her resolve.

Avery takes another bite of her food, barely tasting it as she focuses on the familiar motion of chewing and swallowing. The mention of emotions only serves to make her feel more uncomfortable; discussing such things is like walking through a minefield, with each word threatening to set off an explosion within her already fragile heart. So she doesn't respond, instead focusing on the safety of the neutral topics they had been discussing earlier: cooking and work and how much they hate their parents.

As if summoned by the thought, Avery's mother suddenly decides to call, the high-pitched shriek of her voice piercing through even the thick walls of their apartment. "I swear she must have bat wings or something," Avery mutters under her breath, wincing as she excuses herself from the table to take the call. She moves to a spot where serialkilled can't see her face, not wanting them to witness any sign of weakness that might be shown on it.

"Hello?" she snaps into the phone, trying to sound angry and in control even though she can barely muster up the energy for such emotions right now. "What do you want?"

It's clear to Avery that her mother's tone is different; more gentle and concerned than usual. She listens to the woman ramble on about how they haven't seen each other in weeks, how much she misses Avery, and how it must be so hard living with serialkilled all by herself. A part of her wants to scream that she isn't alone; that serialkilled is right there. But another part knows better than to contradict her mother at this point. So instead, she listens patiently, nodding along and muttering reassurances every now and then.

Eventually, the call comes to an end with promises of visits from Avery's brothers and sisters. With a sigh, Avery hangs up the phone and rejoins serialkilled at the table. "Sorry about that," she mumbles, sitting down again without looking at them directly. "She just wanted to chat."

It's not much of an apology, but it's all she can muster right now.

With a huff, Avery picks at her food again, not really hungry anymore but unable to bring herself to stop eating. The tension in the room is palpable, heavy as lead between them despite their attempts to pretend otherwise. Her gaze drifts around the kitchen before landing on serialkilled once more, a flicker of something soft and vulnerable flitting across her features before it's quickly suppressed. She takes another bite of food, feeling guilty for not being able to be what they need her to be, but too weak to try any harder.

She startles slightly at the touch, her gaze flickering down to where serialkilled's hand meets hers before looking up again quickly, a slight blush dusting her cheeks. Her lips part as if to speak, but no words come out; instead she merely nods mutely, unable to find any real comfort in the gesture despite everything they've been through together.

The silence that follows is heavy and oppressive, each breath Avery takes feeling more like a struggle than it should be. Eventually, unable to bear it any longer, she stands abruptly from her chair, muttering something about needing to "clear up" before disappearing into another room with the dishes. She doesn't want serialkilled to see her like this; weak and exposed without her protective barriers in place. It would only make things worse.

With another sigh, Avery finishes cleaning up the dishes and puts them away, taking her time to avoid going back into the living room too soon. She needs a moment to herself; to sort through her feelings and try to regain some semblance of control over her emotions before facing serialkilled again.

Eventually, after what feels like hours but is more likely only minutes, she reenters the living room, looking calm and composed on the surface despite the turmoil churning beneath. "You done with your shower?" she asks casually, trying to pretend that nothing out of the ordinary had happened earlier.

She nods in response and looks around the room, uncertain about what to do now that they're both back. Her eyes land on serialkillled again, studying their face intently for any signs of rejection or anger. Seeing none, she decides that maybe it would be best if they just watched TV or something until bedtime comes. "Wanna watch a movie?" She asks cautiously, offering what she hopes is an innocuous suggestion.

She nods slowly, the corner of her mouth twitching into a tiny smile. She hasn't realized how much she actually enjoys doing things together with serialkilled; how much it grounds her and helps to keep everything in perspective. But then there's always that nagging voice in the back of her head, telling her that maybe this isn't what they want... maybe this entire relationship is built on lies and manipulation, just like all her others before.

The thought makes her heart ache deep down, but she pushes it aside for now, focusing instead on the warmth of serialkilled's presence beside her. "What do you feel like watching?" she asks with only the tiniest hint of hope lacing her words.

Avery blinks, surprised by the choice of movie. "The Notebook?" she repeats slowly, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "Are you sure? That's... that's not exactly what I would usually go for..." She trails off, feeling a bit self-conscious about admitting it.

But serialkilled only smiles gently, taking Avery's hand in their own. "It's our favorite movie," they say softly, squeezing her fingers reassuringly. "I want to watch it with you." The sincerity in their voice sends a shiver down Avery's spine; she can feel herself melting under the weight of those words, even as a part of her wonders if it's all an act too.

With a sigh, she nods slowly, relenting to serialkilled's request. "Okay," she says quietly, unable to meet their eyes as they search hers for any sign of genuine agreement or consent. "We can watch it."

A small smile tugs at the corners of her lips as she snuggles deeper into the blanket, resting her head against serialkilled's shoulder. Despite herself, Avery finds that she's enjoying the movie; it's nice to have someone else to share this experience with. And with every look, every squeeze of their hand, she can feel a tiny piece of her defenses begin to crumble away.

The final scene plays out before them, its tragedy and heartache echoing in the quiet room. As they watch Noah die peacefully in Allie's arms, Avery closes her eyes tightly, fighting back tears as she tries to ignore the ache in her chest. It's too much; this entire relationship is too much, and yet...

She doesn't know if she can bear the thought of losing serialkilled, even though deep down she knows that it might be for the best. The conflict tears at her insides like a hungry wolf, leaving her raw and exposed. But when the credits finally roll and the screen fades to black, Avery finds herself still clinging tightly to their hand, unable or unwilling to let go quite yet.

Her fingers lace through theirs, clinging tightly despite her best efforts to resist the urge. It's strange, this feeling of helplessness; she isn't used to it and doesn't like it. But with serialkilled here, it seems that everything changes. They make her feel things she didn't know were possible; warmth where there was once only coldness, safety where there was fear.

It scares her, this vulnerability, but she can't bring herself to let go. Maybe if she holds on tight enough, it will be enough to keep them both together. And for now, that's all Avery really has.

She snorts softly at the quote, feeling a pang in her chest as she realizes how true it is. Her heart does feel fragile around him; like a delicate flower that could be crushed with just one rough touch. But she can't bring herself to pull away completely, even though she knows it might be for the best.

"It's not your fault," she whispers, looking up at serialkilled from beneath her lashes. "I just... I don't want to lose you." The words are barely a breath, spoken so quietly that Avery isn't even sure if they register with anyone but herself. But there it is, the truth laid bare for all to see: she needs them more than she ever thought possible.

She bites her lower lip, considering the words carefully before responding. Even if it means hurting himself in the process, the thought of being with Avery is enough to make serialkilled willing to take that risk. It's a selfless offer, and one she isn't entirely sure how to react to; Avery has never been on the receiving end of such unconditional love before.

Her hand tightens around theirs, unsure whether it's a sign of gratitude or desperation. "I don't know if I can let you," she whispers at last, her voice hoarse with emotion. "It's not fair to ask you to... to go through all that." But even as the words leave her mouth, she knows they're half-hearted; she doesn't want to be alone again, doesn't want to return to the coldness and isolation of her past life.

The silence that falls between them feels like an abyss; deep and endless, filled with unspoken words and unanswerable questions. Eventually, Avery tears her gaze away from serialkilled, looking down at their intertwined fingers as if seeking answers in the pattern of wrinkles and lines. But all she sees is uncertainty, and that scares her more than anything else.

She closes her eyes tightly, feeling the words wash over her like a cool wave on a hot day. They sound so sincere; so raw and honest that it almost takes her breath away. But even as she starts to believe him, a tiny voice in the back of her mind reminds her that this is Avery they're talking about: the girl who has been burned one too many times before.

With a small, sad smile, she pulls their hands away, unable or unwilling to let go completely. "I want to believe you," she whispers hoarsely. "But... I can't help but think that maybe it would be easier for both of us if..." Her voice trails off, leaving the sentence unfinished. But the words hang in the air like a dark cloud, threatening to ruin whatever fragile bond they might have managed to create tonight.

Surprised by the sudden kiss, she melts into it instinctively, parting her lips to allow deeper access as their tongues dance together. It's a possessive, needy kind of kiss that makes her heart race and her core heat up; a reminder of just how much she wants this despite all her reservations. With a soft moan, she wraps her arms around serialkilled's neck, clinging tightly as they deepen the kiss, lost in the moment and each other.

For now, at least, the words can wait until tomorrow; there is only this moment, these hands and lips and hearts connected in a dance of desire and longing. She doesn't know where it will lead or how long it will last, but for now she finds herself content to let go of her fears and doubts and simply enjoy the blissful oblivion that serialkilled so effortlessly provides.

As the tears trickle down serialkilled's cheeks and onto her lips, she kisses them away gently, her touch tender and careful despite the passion that still fuels their embrace. She feels a catch in her own throat as she realizes the depth of their feelings; how much they both care for each other and how hard it would be to let go even if everything were perfect between them.

With a shuddering breath, she clings tighter, not wanting to think about anything but the here and now: the feel of his skin against hers, the scent of his hair, the sound of their hearts beating in unison. For this moment, they are the only two people in the world, and nothing else matters.

Her breath hitches as she feels the warmth of their lips leave her mouth and travel down her neck, leaving a trail of tiny kisses in their wake. It's like an electric current racing through her veins, making every nerve ending stand at attention and tingle with anticipation. With a moan of pleasure, she arches her back, granting easier access as serialkilled continues their descent, nipping playfully at the soft skin beneath her ear before moving lower still.

Her hands tighten in his hair, urging him on even as she whispers words of encouragement and praise into his ear, reveling in the sensation of being completely exposed and vulnerable under his touch. She knows they can't stay like this forever; that eventually they'll have to face reality and all its harsh truths. But for now, she's content to lose herself in this haze of passion and desire, knowing that as long as she has serialkilled beside her, anything is possible.

It takes all of her self-control not to moan as their kisses and nips continue down her collarbone; the sensation is too much, too intense for her to resist. Her heart races wildly in her chest, every beat seeming to echo through her body as she struggles to catch her breath. With a shuddering gasp, she manages to force out a single word: "Now."

Her hands flutter helplessly in the air, unsure of what else to do or where else they're supposed to go. She feels so exposed, so needy and desperate for more of this contact, but at the same time she knows that if they continue much longer it will only lead to things neither of them is quite ready for yet. Her eyes flutter closed, taking a shaky breath as she tries to steady herself, waiting for serialkilled's reaction to her demand.