𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 ~ | 𝘔𝘢𝘹 𝘝𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯 (2)

024 || The box

Two hours.

I had been staring at this dumb box for 2. 

Fucking. 

Hours.

I found the necklace as soon as I got home. It was now in my hand, twirling absentmindedly around my fingers.

I was alone.

Just me and the box. The wooden box sat on the table in front of me, its smooth surface feeling cool to the touch. Its intricate carvings added an air of mystery, making it seem almost ancient. I carefully traced the patterns with my fingertips, my mind filled with thoughts of my mother's fingers doing the same thing years ago.

"Are you okay, schat?"

I looked up to see Max standing in the doorway, concern etched on his face. I nodded, unable to tear my eyes away from the box.

"I'm going to take the kids out to the park, okay?" He told me, to come inside. 

His hand was on my shoulder. I nodded again, unable to find my voice. It was as if the box was calling out to me, begging to be opened.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Max asked again, his voice gentle. 

He crouched down next to my chair, his hands finding my legs and swiveling the chair around to face him. My gaze was ripped away from the box. I was oddly grateful.

"Mhm." I tried to smile. His eyes narrowed. I knew he could see right through me, but I also knew that he wouldn't push me to say anything.

"Okay," he sighed. I finally met his gaze. "If you need anything, call me." He told me, his voice gentle but firm. A real smile spread over my face.

"I will." I nodded. His shoulders relaxed a little.

He took my hands in his and placed a gentle kiss on each of my knuckles. I felt my cheeks heat up. His eyes shone a little as he saw the pink spreading over my skin.

"You're fucking adorable." He sighed, getting to his feet. I blushed even more, unable to contain my smile.

"Aren't I?" I chuckled. He smiled down at me, as if he didn't want to leave just yet. I think he could sense that I needed a little more.

I reached out, putting my arms around his hips and pulling him closer until he was standing between my legs, my face buried in his shirt.

His scent filled my senses—a comforting mix of cologne and warmth. I could feel his warmth radiating through his shirt as I held onto him tightly. His hand held the back of my head gently, his other hand trailing up and down my spine soothingly.

I could hear his voice rumble in his chest as he murmured gentle words to me in Dutch. I didn't know what he was saying, but it comforted me.

"Do you have to go?" I asked, pulling away and resting my chin on his chest, looking up at him. I knew that he was going to have to leave in a couple of days for the next race.

"I wish I didn't." He smiled softly, his hands stroking my hair and the side of my face.

"Then don't."

"Baby, I have to."

"Pretty please?"

"You know how much I hate saying no to you."

"Then don't."

I gave him a pouting look, hoping he would give in to me. He tilted his head back with a soft groan before his eyes traveled back to meet mine.