.

The desire to care less about things, to loosen your grip on your life, to stop glancing behind you every few steps, afraid that someone will snatch it from you before you reach the end zone. Letting go of the anxiety that everyone is looking at and judging you.

Something like that, anyway.

Before her capturebefore she injured her hands, and before she moved back to Texas, y/n lived in an apartment next to a bookstore. It was a common occurrence for her to stop by on her way home from college.

She would spend a good hour browsing the selections on the shelves, tracing spine after spine and page after page. Reading word after word and buying book after book.

One day, probably a month before her accident, y/n picked up a book titled "Dictionary Of Obscure Sorrows."

Although the read was not a boring one, most of the dictionary is a blur to her now. Yet, that one word managed to climb it's way out of the fog and back into her memory. She thought about all day.

It was an interesting word, one she'd have to remember to tell Thomas later during his free time.

Tonight, she sits in the bath, water rippling against her thighs, bouncing off her skin and then against the bathtubs edge. Steam rolls off the water's surface, filling the bathroom with it's hypnotic fog.

Beads of sweat roll down her skin and join the waters below. Her fingers wrinkle from too much time sitting in the tub. Despite the warmth of the water, she shivers. To quell her anxiety, she leans back in the water, letting the tiny waves tickle her face.

"You almost done, dear?"

She sighs, rising from the water and calling out to Luda.

"Yep, I'll be right out!"

Water from her hair drips down her back. The sensation reminds her of fingers tracing her spine, leading down to her lower back in a shiver-inducing movement.

She watches the water drain out in a tornado at the bottom of the tub. her body, shivering from the cold, rises from the tub, grabbing the towel and drying off.

Her ankle has healed completely, she doesn't need assistance anymore, yet Luda still stands outside the door, waiting to help her get ready.

It was usually Thomas waiting when she opened the door, but Luda insisted that he must not see the bride until the ceremony.

"Ceremony " wasn't the best word. There was no fancy clothing, no golden venue, no vases of flowers or dance floor full of guests. Instead, it is y/n, Thomas, Monty, Hoyt, and Luda gathering at the table for a feast as celebration.

Tonight, she officially becomes a Hewitt.

"I've never had a daughter before," Luda says, helping y/n into a little white dress.

"I hope you don't mind the lack of fanciness, it's the only white dress I got. We don't got much money right now."

"It's fine." She says, examining her figure in the mirror. The dress is loose and flowy below the waist, ending at the knees. The top has a modest neckline, hugging the line of her waist in a flattering way.

The radio in the corner of the room plays an orchestra. Y/n takes a moment to identify the song. Was it Tchaikovsky?

"You like classical music?" She asks Luda.

Luda shakes her head.

"Nope, it's the only station that reaches us out here.

Y/n watches as Luda turns off the radio, filling the room with awful silence.

"Alright honey, let's do your hair."

into the stew. They fall with a heavy "splunk", splashing broth out of the pot. He wipes it up, before turning the heat on the stove up.

"Guess what was in that kid's trunk, Tommy?" Hoyt stumbles into the kitchen, holding up a pack of beers.

"Alcohol!" He slurs, dropping them on the table.

Thomas grunts at him.

"Well look at ya', my beautiful nephew is gettin' married tonight! Who would've thunk?" He turns to Monty, who sits in a chair in the living room. "Hey Monty, I've got beers to help us get through the night!"

Monty raises his hand, waving Hoyt towards him. He hands him a beer, patting him on the back.

"You better clean yourself up, boy." He tells Thomas, before disappearing up the stairs.

His eyes drop to his blood stained sleeves, and dripping hands. A good wash wouldn't be enough, he'd need new clothes.

When he finishes cleaning up and comes down stairs, Luda is at the stove, putting stew into the bowls. She turns when she hears him.

"Oh, my baby boy. I'm so proud of you." She hugs him tightly, despite his grunt of disproval.

"Oh hush, you'll always be my baby. Now, help me set up the table."

When everything is set up, and Thomas's family is ready at the table, he watches the stairs in anticipation. His heart accelerates in his ears, as footsteps come down them.

Y/n finally reveals herself, hand on the railing to keep herself from falling. A sophisticated white dress hangs to her knees, and her beauty is absolutely breathtaking to Thomas.

She keeps her head down, sitting in the chair beside him, the head of the table. His eyes don't leave her face. He wants dearly for her to lift it and look at him, but he's not sure if he'd be able to handle it anyway. He may just spontaneously combust.

"Doesn't she look gorgeous?" Luda asks the table, grinning.

"Oh, she's perdy. " Hoyt hiccups.

"Charles Hewitt, are you drinking?!"

He shakes his head quickly. "No, not at all."

"Nevermind, just say grace."

He rises slowly, taking Monty and Luda's hands.

"Dear father in heaven, please bless this family (burp) and Thomas's new bitch. May She-"

Luda kicks him from under table, making him stutter.

"And uh. . . Ahmen."

Thomas watches as Y/n stares at her food.

"Sweetie, you're a member of this family now. You gotta eat like the family." Luda says.

"Look, I really appreciate the meal but uh. . . I think cannibalism is an acquired taste. And it's not mine."

"Are you insulting us, young lady?" Hoyt asks.

"No, not at all."

"Just try it."

Thomas notices her gulp as her face turns pale. With shaking hands, she brings a spoonful to her mouth. He notices there's no meat in the spoon, but the others are too far away to see.

She pours the spoonful into her mouth, shivering as she swallows. He thinks for a moment that she's going to be sick, but she keeps it down remarkably.

"Not so bad, now was it?" Luda asks.

Y/n doesn't respond, a finger over her mouth.

The tv in the living room, left on by Monty, spits out a song. Something Thomas doesn't recognize, but Hoyt does well.

He jumps from the table.

"Are you hearing this, Luda? I haven't heard this since the 60's! He starts dancing around. To Thomas's surprise, he sees Y/n struggling to hold back a laugh. He looks back at Hoyt, and finds the sight ridiculous too. The Sherrif outfit he refused to take off squeezed his skin, giving a clear image of his old man ass cheeksbfor the table as he does some creaky old man dance.

He stops when he sees y/n's judging face, walking over and snaking a hand around her waist. He lifts her from her chair, the other hand finding one of hers and doing a mock tango with her across the room.

She stiffens up, trying to pull herself away from him. Her nose scrunches up as his mouth opens widely to sing along with the song.

Thomas stands, knocking his chair down. He crosses the room in two strides, pulling Hoyt off of her with ease. An animalistic growl reverberates deep with in him, a hand on Y/n's arm as he glares down at Hoyt.

"Hoyt, you asshole!" Luda says, grabbing his arm and pulling him back to the table.

Monty finds the whole situation hilarious, cackeling from his wheelchair.

Thomas looks down at Y/n, who stares at the family, pale-faced.

As a commotion of drunken yelling and laughing fills the room, Thomas takes Y/n and leads her up the stairs.

"No offense, Tommy, but you're family is a pack of wild animals."

He freezes at the top of the stairs, turning to look at her. She seems to get the message when she apologized quietly.

His family was too much sometimes, but he didn't appreciate anyone calling them animals.

The two enter the room. Y/n reaches for the clips in her hair, pulling them out. Thomas watches quietly from the doorway.

She turns to him, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes. He turns to leave, but she grabs his hand. A soft smile plays on her lips.

"Thomas, you don't have to sleep in the basement anymore. We're married now."

He gulps, eyeing the hand on his. It traces up his beefy arm, up to the sleeve of his shirt. She pulls on it, to which he complies, leaning down as she kisses him softly on the cheek.

He feels his face flame up, and to further his embarrassment, Y/n removes his mask. She grind at the sight of his red cheeks.

She slides off her gloves and gets into the bed, making room for him.

He hesitates, before climbing in beside her. She moves closer to the wall, giving him space. He gets under the blanket, but doesn't relax. He's too nervous.

After a few minutes, y/n turns over, facing him.

"I remembered something from a book today."

She proceeds to go on, and Thomas listens. Eventually, she falls asleep curled up against his back.

When he wakes up the next morning, his arm is around her, pulling her close against his chest. She snores softly. Usually, he would get up around this time and do household chores, but he doesn't want to upset y/n's sleeping form. So he buries his face in her hair, and falls back asleep.

This chapter took so long for some reason. I going back to revision, and came out not so proud with

Also, y/n's dress and hair description was vague if even there becauseI wanted it to be all . Just imagine whatever looks best with your hair and body type.