Brooke plopped down on the small, blue couch in the living room of the mayor's house. The warm sunrays coming in from the window hit the skin on her bare arms, the summer heat being too much for her usual green hoodie caused her to resort to go around wearing the simple green tee shirt she wore underneath. She shivered slightly; she wasn't a fan of hot weather. She pulled a hair tie from around her wrist into her hair and put it up into a high ponytail, this was her third week staying at the Hamilton's, and she was beginning to think the farm would never get fixed up, not that she had a problem with that.

Putting her feet up on the coffee table she waited for the usual noises of the home to occur; the pattering of Hamilton's feet as he scurried around the kitchen, the sound of the pages of Gill's book flicking it's pages as he rocked back and forth in the rocking chair, the quiet, never ending crackling of the fireplace despite it being the middle of summer, and the ticking of the gigantic grandfather clock that stood in the back of the room. It was all so familiar to her now, this house had became her house, and she felt more at home here then she had ever felt in a place before in her life. Even back in Forget-Me-Not Valley, which she was trying so hard to forget and let her mind be at rest finally, be happy, here in Waffle Town. The ghosts of her pasts were pushing up on her though, slowly crawling under her skin and causing her to be uneasy about the slightest things; she'd give anything to be at rest. To feel calm again, she needed that feeling, but the quietness of the house wasn't helping.

"Gill?" Her voice cracked as she called out, it was early in the morning, only around ten o'clock. She had done her daily routine; get up, brush her teeth, shower, dress, and come downstairs to a breakfast cooked by Hamilton, or really by Gill, considering Hamilton was too short to reach the cupboards or even the top of the oven in fact. The silence that followed was not settling, recently the only thing that was settling to her was the sound of Gill's voice, for reasons her gut still wouldn't let her explain.

She stood up, putting her hands into the pockets of her denim shorts and walked into the kitchen, picturing in her mind Hamilton sitting at the table, a fork in one hand and a knife in the other, digging into the scrambled eggs and French toast Brooke requested each morning, a plate of her own food sitting on the other side of the table, a glass of orange juice placed next to it, the contents slightly moving side to side as Hamilton gulped up his food, rocking the table slightly. And Gill, Gill would be leaning against the countertops, reading the morning paper as always, a glass of coffee in one hand while holding up the current affairs article in the other. His own plate next to him on the counter, almost untouched except for the small pile of ketchup by his eggs, which had a single chunk missing out of it where he would dip his finger in it and lick it off when nobody was looking, Brooke of course had caught him many times.

She took her seat at the table and pushed in the chair as far as it would go before hurting her, and picking up an apple from the fruit bowl set in the middle of it, taking a bite and sighing. Out of all the emotions flooding her soul, the only one that was in effect right now? Boredom.

Taking another bite from the apple she stood up once more, pushing in the chair with her foot and walking around the kitchen, stopping at the fridge to admire the pictures on it. Just like when she first came here, the one held up with the "World's Best Dad" magnet caught her eye first. The family picture taken so long ago the sides of the photo were turning yellow. A miniature Gill stood in the middle of his two loving parents, each with a hand on his shoulder, a grin the size of Texas plastered on his face with a cows lick the same size to match. She smiled as she noticed the small, red sweater vest he was wearing; his style never did really change. Hamilton was taller, and wasn't as round, and his nose wasn't quite the same shape anymore. And Gill's mother, the obvious focal point of the picture, stood out like a sore thumb. Her beauty was almost radiating from the photo; you could tell Gill got his looks from her. Her long, bleach blond hair and stunning blue eyes pierced through Brooke's skin, causing her to shiver again. She raised a slender hand, straightening the picture and letting a single thought flow through her head for the first time in ages, no other ones fighting for her attention. Just the thought of if, one day, someday, she'd be like Gill's mother was. Have loved with all of her heart and had a child, married, bought a house, had been beautiful and successful, had all that life could offer. Then the thought of what had happened to her caused Brooke to bite down hard on her lip, could her life slip away that easy? What if she too, was married, in love, and had a child, then just out of nowhere one day, poof? She would die? The thought wasn't a pleasant one, causing a single tear to roll down her cheek, she couldn't take the thought. She wouldn't let it become a reality. She wouldn't.

Though, she wasn't sure she even trusted herself anymore.

She grinded her teeth together, shutting her eyes and attempting to block out all of the thoughts. Why did everything go wrong? Why did everything happen to her all at once? She wasn't a bad person, she knew that. Sure she's done a few bad things in her life, but she wasn't a bad person. She needed something, someone, to prove that going through all of this pain could be worth something.

"BrookLynn." That voice that took away all of her worries, her fears, finally made an appearance. She didn't dare turn, she wouldn't let him see her cry, she was afraid that if he looked into her eyes, that maybe he'd see her thoughts too, even if she did know this was crazy.

A few, slow footsteps came towards her. A cold hand wrapping around her wrist felt like a wave of relief was sent through her body, like a chemical reaction that could only be set off by his touch. He pulled her close to him, wrapping his arms around her body and holding her tightly. The setting of the kitchen faded away as he held her in his arms, letting her release the constant flow of tears. It wasn't just Brooke against the world anymore, like she thought it had always been. She had had her sister's before, but having Gill with her like this felt different, like having him gave her power again, hope, a feeling as if that maybe there could be a new beginning. But the thoughts of Gill's mother flooded back into her brain, causing her peaceful thoughts to rush away, replaced by ones of fear.

"BrookLynn, shh, it'll be okay." His voice, the fear, the conflicting emotions in her stomach were almost too much, so she decided to stand there, in his cold arms blocking out the heat from the summer's day, and to stop thinking.

"Gill?" She managed another word, curious as to if she could achieve more, but not willing to try, not yet.

He looked down at her, his ice blue eyes absent of their usual bitter manner, replaced with a look full of concern, "Yes?"

"Do you love me?"

The question was so sudden, so brash that not even Brooke could comprehend the fact it had came out of her own mouth. The silence in the air was deafening, but it eventually faded away in the air as all words do, the time passed with no response, as if she'd never even said it.

"Do I...love you?" Gill was taken aback by her words, but tried to scrape up the last bit of arrogance he had, his confidence with love was never a high one. Especially his confidence around her. He knew about her past, of course. Hell, they were best friends, he knew everything. But the one thing he didn't know was the thing that was bothering her the most.

"Yes, do you love me." She looked up at him, her emerald green eyes shining in a way Gill never thought possible. He always saw that when he looked into her eyes, a sparkle he'd never saw in anyone else before in his life. A feeling would rise in his stomach and heart when he'd see her skip down the stairs in the morning, her hair sticking off to the side in baggy pyjamas, plopping down in his lap and telling her every detail about her dream she had the night before, many of which included him. He loved hearing about them, he loved how natural she was around him, how she felt like she didn't need to dress up to impress him, because she knew that just being her impressed him in more ways than anything else would. He loved cooking for her, he loved being with her, he loved reading her to sleep, twirling her hair, holding her when she was upset, being there when she needed him the most and being the only person that could make her feel better. He loved that. He loved her.

Cupping her face with two hands, he gulped, biting his lip. She put her feet on top of his, lightly standing on them and wrapping his arms around his waist, looking up into his eyes. Her body was warm, and his cold. They contrasted in many ways, but in one way they were both certain, that they completed each other.

"I do love you, so bloody much." And with those words spoken, he leaned down, closing his eyes and crashing their lips together, releasing all of Brooke's worries and fears, nothing bad could ever overpower the feeling she had right now. She kissed him back with just as much passion, moving her hands so they held onto his dress shirt tightly, never wanting to let him go. He ran his fingers through her hair, a movement he had done so many times before, and slowly broke apart, both of their eyes opening in unison, a smile slowly forming on each of their faces.

"I love you too, Gilly."