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“Mae.” Lynn called.

I followed his voice and found him sitting on my bed. Dinner had been uneventful, since the mysterious stranger and Cig hadn’t arrived on time to eat with the rest of the family. Yora seemed pleased enough, and not at all like he had been the past few weeks.

In order to keep Lynn safe, I had to ensure that the stranger did not pose any threat towards him. Thankfully, it felt as if Yora hadn’t lied when he stated that the man was not dangerous.

“You are not going to introduce yourself to that man without making a plan first,” I ordered.

Lynn, taken aback but amused, asked me, “How did you know that I wanted to properly introduce myself?”

“You are too nice for your own good.” I was merely stating facts.

No one else was as honest, kind, or as hardworking as Lynn. He was the last person to ever commit something like murder.

I would’ve known.

I was his assistant, after all.

“I’m not very nice,” He tried to persuade me.

“Fine.” I grabbed him by the tie and began unloosening it. It was time for him to get out of his clothes and into warm pajamas. But first, a shower. “You only appear to be nice because I am extremely mean.”

He tried to shake his head at me, even though I had a good grip on his tie. “No way, Mae.” Lynn assured, “You’re the nicest person I know.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.” I partly unbuttoned his white shirt.

Lynn took me by the wrist, “Is that so?”

I pulled back from his hold and removed his jacket, despite his shirt hanging off of only one shoulder. “I don’t know.” I unbuckled his belt, and freed the shirt that’d been tucked neatly into his pants.

He was staring at me. I could feel it.

Regardless, I didn’t stop undressing him. In the beginning, when I had to train as an assistant for the first time, it had been awkward to undress a total stranger. Now, it was much easier once I got used to it.

Bringing me back to reality, I stared up at him when I found that he had taken my hat off. He was raising it up, too high for me to reach. I could get it if I jumped, though that would take effort that I did not have.

I made a move to grab it, but I halted when I caught a glimpse of the scar above his left brow, partly hidden behind his dark blonde hair. It’d healed up nicely in the past three months. At first, when he’d gotten it during a fight, I was afraid it would never heal.

The wound had been deep, so deep that when I’d found him, he had been lying in a pool of his own blood, unconscious.

The perpetrator had ran.

I’d come too late to save Lynn. At the time, the only thing I could do was get him to safety. And luckily . . .

He was still with me.

Almost.

Lynn caught me staring, and sent me a cheerful smile. “I’m fine, Mae.”

“You say that whenever you aren’t feeling fine,” I reminded him.

His sunny disposition never wavered. He was too good for this world, and yet the world had done nothing but betray him in every way.

Lynn didn’t deserve this.

“If you tell me the memories I've forgotten, then I will definitely feel much better,” He teased me. He knew I would’ve felt bad if I’d told him everything. I wanted all of those memories to come back to him in a different way, so that I wouldn’t spoil anything for him.

His feelings back then also could’ve changed with time. I had no idea what was going on in his head, therefore did I have any right to tell him who he was?

Carefully brushing my fingers against his scar, I leaned forward but I held back. I just wanted to look into his eyes. “If I tell you, will you truly like it? Or will you despise me for telling you something that you may not want to hear?”

Lynn was silent as we exchanged looks. He was reading my face, parting his lips as I spoke near them. 

Letting him go, I chuckled, “What? Cat got your tongue?”

He cleared his throat, and murmured, “No . . .”

I smirked.

The peacefulness I felt in that moment lasted briefly, though. I was reminded of why we had those types of conversations.

Faint recollections of doctor visits, trips to the library, and other experimental ventures washed over me. The reason why Lynn never fully recovered from that fight back in college was because a part of him had been left behind there.

‘Amnesia.’ The doctor had told me. ‘It’s common when a person has experienced trauma to the head. In this case, it seems to be very severe.’

Lynn never touched a Modiano cigarette in his life, and yet his memories had still been stolen from him. It was unfair. 

I watched as he took off his shirt completely and folded it on the bed. He looked tired sometimes, like he was trying hard to remember those memories he’d lost.

It wasn’t my fault, and yet it felt like it partly was. I hadn’t been there to protect him. I should’ve been at his side, to fight with him, for him. This was exactly why this family was in constant danger. They needed people to be there for them, and I . . .

I had not been there.

“Lynn.” I said.

Tell me the secret you wanted to share.

“Yes?” He put my hat back on my head.

“Do you have time to go over some paperwork?” I asked.

The secret you wanted to tell me . . . before that fight happened.

He fixed my hair, to fit the hat more snuggly on my head, “I do.”

I tried to return his smile, “Good.”

If you can't remember that, then please remember . . . our memories . . . at least . . .

But in my heart I knew I couldn’t force this on him.

Only he could do it. No one else—

The guilt over his injury hurt me. It hurt me so much that I could die. But I knew it hurt him more. I had to be strong.

For him . . . Lynn  . . .

My friend.