T H R E E ; tris

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Hello my dears! It's been an insane amount of time since I last updated (aplogies) and thank you for all those who have been reading and have read, it means a lot. This is a re-upload of the last chapter but edited and better so it's different. 

Enjoy!

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"Thank you."

Is written in Blue letters on front of the card that I hand to the brown haired boy curled up on the sofa watching 10 things I hate about you.

He takes it from my hands, sitting up a bit more and still not meeting my eyes.

I watch over his shoulders, as he reads.

"To brad. I'm sorry I'm such an asshole, and I don't treat you the way you deserve. Thanks for being a good friend. Tris x"

a small, soft small blooms on his face. Not a typical, big, goofy brad grin, but a tired smile that I appreciate more. He grabs my arm and pulls me onto the sofa, putting m his bicep around my neck and snuggling me to his chest.

"Don't worry, Tris." I pull away, and look down at my crossed legs. I can't bring my eyes to meet his. His palm touches my arm. "Hey, I get that you were mad."

I just pull him into a hug instantly and I don't want to let go.

"I didn't mean it." I whisper, and he chuckles, probably surprised by my sudden gratitude toward him. Brad holds me at arms length and looks at me sternly.

"It's. okay. Tris. It was hard for you to see her and it was probably too soon." he pats my back. "But I do really appreciate you apologising and showing you care. I know you do, and it's just sometimes hard for you to show it. But I get it."

I nod. Smiling. There's a peaceful silence.

"However," I begin, grinning. "I am hurt that you began watching our favourite without me."

I saw, narrowing my eyes and looking at the TV. He lets out a soft laugh.

"does this help?" Brad's ringed fingers pull out a multi pack of fruitella's and I immediately die inside. My absolute favourites. I chuckle.

"You angel." I grin. He grins too. For a few seconds we look at each other, grinning.

Wonderful . I tell the younger boy that I'm getting changed into my pyjamas and soon return in some fluffy sweatpants and a jumper- it's what I count as PJ's anyways.

I soon return downstairs with more pillows and blankets and jump down beside him; instinctively, his smaller body curls into mine. I look down at him and smile. He doesn't say it because those hazel eyes are looking away, but boy, do I live for the moments like this.

Time goes by quickly, film after film we sit together, munching on junk we probably shouldn't eat but hey, life's short.

By 9 oclock Bradley has his head on my lap, and his eyes are shut and I know they always say things are prettier from far away and uglier up close but it's different with Brad. When you're close to brad simpson, you can see the hundred shades of hope and love in his chocolate eyes and those small marks on his skin that paint constellations and how his eyelashes dance across his cheeks. And those lips that speak such words of comfort. Of love. Those words are going to change the world and how he smiles. Boy, does he love to smile. That smile changed my life back in year 4 when I was lost, and angry and hated the world I was alone in. There were few things for me to smile about back then, and he was always my favourite one; by the age of 8 I'd seen my dad yank my mothers and hair and my mum slap him and I'd heard every explicative under the sun. I flinched already by the age of 9. By 10 I was used to the different men coming and going. I was used to the dickheads round my home, and the fighting I would hear. I was used to hearing the sound of moans leak through my thin walls. By 12 I was sleeping around brads most nights.

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