In which Nev finds Susan in the morning


start at the beginning | what went before | this installment | next installment

It was early Sunday morning when Nev stumbled into his flat, just after dawn, the air still stone-gray and chilly. Han, Anthony and Den hadn’t questioned his request to leave practically in the middle of the night, and Den had slept sprawled out next to him in the back seat for the two hours back into town.

And then he was home, and Susan was curled up on his couch, afghan tucked over her legs, hands wrapped around a huge mug of coffee. “Hey,” she said softly, blinking sleepy eyes, a slow smile spreading across her face. She placed her cup carefully on the low sofa table. “All right?”

Nev swallowed thickly. “Yeah.”

He’d spent the entire day and a half at Hannah’s parents not thinking about Susan or Dean, and then he’d spent the entire ride home picturing Dean’s expression right after he’d kissed him – stunned and hopeful and scared and resigned. He didn’t want to lose Dean, couldn’t lose Dean. But no matter what he felt for him, he couldn’t stop loving Susan, either.

Susan was. Susan was lovely and sweet, and she was currently hollow-eyed, tense lines bracketing her mouth, and Nev realized how much of her enthusiasm had been pure bravado the past few days. “What are you do—”

“I wasn’t ready,” she cut in, and he knew exactly what she was talking about – she hadn’t been ready for them, for their forever - and he found himself asking, “Are you now?”

“God, Nev, I,” she mouthed the words soundlessly, hands fluttering, and he reached out to grab her wrists, urging her to her feet.

“Suze.” He took a deep breath, ready to spill his guts, ready to tell her about his loneliness and Lav and Dean. “Suze, Dean—”

“I know.” She dropped her eyes, lashes ghosting the tops of her cheeks. “He told me.”

Nev deflated with a soft, “Oh.”

“And I know you’ll always be a little in love with him,” she said, still not looking at him, and that wasn’t like Susan at all. She was always so direct and open, and his heartbeat stuttered.

Because he didn’t think he could deny it, and he desperately wanted Susan to forgive him.

“For months,” Susan said, fingers fiddling with his buttons, gazing fixedly at his chest, “all I could think about was how exciting it was, being out in the world without you—” Neville couldn’t help the flinch, her words so bald, but her fingers curled into the material of his shirt, grounding him, and she went on resolutely, “But then. Then I’d imagine how much better it’d be if you were sharing it with me. And I knew right away I wanted to. That I wanted to do everything with you, instead.” She shrugged, wry smile at the curve of her lips. “It’s stu—”

Nev leant down and covered her mouth with his, cupping her head with one hand, gathering her up against him, and when he pulled away, her eyes were bright and wet and he whispered huskily, “I’ll always love you more,” and in that moment there was nothing more true.

next installment