Finley frowned at how much she shivered and set the bowl aside. "I'm gonna get you some clothes. My stuff may be a bit bigger than your actual size, but they'll be warm."
"Well….your mother was about her size," Mr. Leon said, poking his head into the living room to look at August. "Why not get her something that fits?"
His son froze for a moment, his face twisted in slight anguish before nodded. "Yeah….yeah, sure."
Was? August frowned at Finley's expression, but she didn't say anything. It wasn't her place to ask; she was a stranger in their home. "Thank you," she said softly, reaching up and giving his hand a soft squeeze before he left.
He gave her a small smile before walking up the stairs, his footsteps creaking the ceiling above them.
"We lost his mother a few months ago," Mr. Leon said sadly, filling up a pot with water from the sink. "It's been a tough transition for him. He's got a strong will, though. He forced himself to keep it together throughout everything."
"I'm sorry," August shifted on the couch, playing with her fingers. "I- I know what it's like to lose a parent," she said, her voice cracking. Even though his death was almost 2 years ago, it still hurt to bring him up.
"I'm sorry to hear that. Maybe you two should talk about it," he suggested as he poured tortellini into the pot and set it on the gas burner. "He barely ever talks about things like that with me."
"Well, I found a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie," Finley said, walking down the stairs and offering her the clothes. He himself had changed into a pair of athletic shorts and a tank top.
August opened her mouth to respond but closed it when he came down the stairs. She hadn't really talked to anyone since the accident happened, and no way would it be a stranger. "Ah, thank you," she said, taking the clothes and holding it to her chest. "Where's the bathroom?" She wanted to get in warm clothes soon as possible.
"Head up the stairs and it's directly to your right," Finley said, walking into the kitchen and pulling a soda out from the fridge. "If you gotta use the toilet, the handle gets stuck from time to time. Just yank it up real hard and it'll get start workin' again."
August nodded and headed up the stairs, the steps creaking slightly under her weight. Entering the bathroom, she softly shut the door and locked it, leaning against it once she did. What am I doing?
Sighing, she began to change, laying her wet clothes in the bathtub, hoping they'd dry before morning.
"What actually happened?" Mr. Leon asked his son, speaking in a low voice. "'Cause this isn't something you'd typically do."
"She tried to jump off a bridge," Finley replied, popping open the soda despite his serious face. "And I'm afraid to let her go back to her house 'cause she might just try to again."
Finley's mom must've been a taller woman because even though they were the same size, the clothes still were a bit baggy on August. She didn't mind though, she actually preferred it.
While slipping on the clothes, she avoided looking in the mirror; she hated how she looked, from her slightly protruding ribs to the scars on her hips. Looking away, she pulled the sweats up and picked up her phonse, rolling her eyes when the red battery popped up on the screen.
"She's been up in that bathroom for a while, kid," Mr. Leon said, nodding his head over to the stairs. He was in full dad mode now. "Go see if she's okay."
"You don't thin-" Finley stopped speaking and hustled to the stairs, taking them two at a time before knocking on the bathroom door. "Hey, August? You alright?"
August jumped at the sudden knocking, dropping her phone in the process Shit. She swept it of the floor and shoved it in her pocket, then opened the door to find Finley standing there.
“I’m okay,” she said, pulling the sleeves of the sweatshirt over her hands nervously.
"I was…just makin' sure," he said, blushing slightly. Was it weird that she looked cute, despite the fact she was wearing his mother's clothes? He pushed those kind of thoughts out his his head and walked back downstairs, returning to his spot on the couch. The Mac n' Cheese had gone cold, so his dad already picked up the bowl, clearing out more space on the couch in the process.
“Okay…” August’s voice trailed off as she noticed something. Was he blushing? The thought made her heart beat a little faster, but she made herself calm down before following him down the stairs. Finley’s a stranger; you’ll be gone by two days time.
Sighing softly, she plopped down beside him, a little closer than before, and curled up, placing her hands in her lap.
"I can switch the TV, if you'd like," he said, speaking a bit quicker than he had before as he reached for the remote. However, instead of grabbing it, he knocked it off of the couch. He quickly picked it up and handed it to August
His father noticed his son's behavior and chuckled, understanding what was going on. Finley knew it as well and his father's amusement brought that pink shade to his cheeks again.
August giggled. “Oh, um,” she curled his fingers around the remote and pushed his hand towards him. “You choose.”
A soft smile crossed her face once she noticed the red on his cheeks, hers also coloring. Dang it.
He pulled a small face as he pressed guide button down and began skimming the channels. At this point, he would've typically picked Cartoon Network and watch whatever was on at that moment, but chose against it since August was down there with them.
"Well…NCIS is on," he said, raising an eyebrow and looking over at her.
“Well, I’ve never watched NCIS,” August said, glancing up at Finley from the TV. “Is it good?” At home, she usually never watched TV unless she wanted to distract herself from her thoughts, but it eventually became background noise and she’d fall asleep to it. When she’d wake up, August would still be on the couch and her mother’s bedroom light would be on, and it’d make her a little sadder than before.
"Well, do you like police TV shows?" he asked, contemplating just leaving basketball on. "If not, that probably isn't a series you'd enjoy."
"Sure?" August shrugged, leaning back. "I usually watch kids shows anyways." Whatever show was on Disney or Cartoon Network she would watch.
(bump)
"Oh, Finley loves kids shows," his dad butted in, making his son blush slightly as he flipped back to CN and turned it on.
About 15 minutes later, his dad walked in with three bowls in his arms, all steaming with the Tortellini he'd just made.
"Here ya go," Mr. Richards said, handing August a bowl.
August took the bowl gratefully, but her smile dropped a little when she saw how much was in the bowl. Her stomach turned at the sight, but she managed to send him a smile and scoop up a big bite. She chewed it slowly, the wonderful taste slowly becoming sludge in her mouth.
Finley, in contrast, scarfed down the food by the mouthful, completely unconcerned with how he would be perceived by August. Sure, she was cute, but this was his house. Why should he modest?
"What do you think of it, August?" Mr. Richards asked, giving her a small smile.
August swallowed thickly, giving Mr. Richards a smile. "It's very good, I haven't had this good of pasta in a long time." She wasn't lying, it was good food. This time, she took smaller bites, hoping that her stomach didn't get upset while she was at their house.
August glanced over at Finley, laughing slightly on how he was devouring the food. He must've been really hungry.
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