T he streets were oddly quiet. Which was good. More noise would have only made me even more skittish than I already was .

The weight of how much I'd fucked everything up was settled around my shoulders, making me slump. If my brother couldn't forgive Hudson for sneaking around...with me , then there was no way they band could hold together. I could hear that strain in every shouted curse word that had floated down the hall, assaulting me as I tried to cover my head with a pillow. They still had three more weeks left on the European tour before they were scheduled for a few dates in Asia. Everything about the band's future hinged on what they were arguing about .

Me.

All the shouting, and all the cursing was because of me .

I couldn't stand it .

No one held a grudge like my brother. I'd watched Niall write people out of his life for far less than what Hudson and I had done .

We should have told him from the beginning. I could see this now. But how could we have told him when we were too afraid to even admit it to ourselves ?

I'd ignored my feelings for Hudson. I'd brushed them aside and told myself I wasn't dealing with them .

I knew better than that. That wasn't who I was. I'd let my own fear of my feelings fuck everything up .

Me.

I was never going to let this happen again. I knew it .

I lifted my face to the sky. White gulls wheeled in an ocean of bright blue sky. I felt myself reach down and feel for my sketchpad .

My bag was not there .

Neither was the ever-present sketchbook .

"Shit," I muttered aloud. I'd been in such a panic to get away from the shouted voices that I had left it in my room .

Should I go back? I never went anywhere without it. It was my talisman, my totem. Even when I wasn't drawing, I could always leaf through the pages and let them help me sort out my feelings .

I really needed to sort those out .

Right now .

I walked a little more, letting the quiet envelope me, until I spotted a store with crossed paint brushes painted right onto the plate glass. An art store .

Impulsively, I darted inside. I picked out a new charcoal pencil and grabbed the smallest, most perfunctory notebook I could fine .

"Grazie," I told the shopkeeper as I took my new sketchpad into my arms. I hated starting a new one when the old one still had pages left. It was a ritual, one at a time. You filled it up before starting another one. Having a new sketchpad was sacred rand I felt like I was transgressing some kind of rule of law by starting one before the old one was done .

But a new start also felt really nice right now, too. I needed to collect myself. All this time I'd been here and I hadn't once sketched the architecture that surrounded me. All the little archways and medieval touches, the glittering columns and ancient fountains. All of this needed to be recorded and I was leaving tomorrow .

A small, tucked away square beckoned to me. I settled on the edge of a crumbling stone fountain, and peered up at the worn smooth face of a cherub above me. I liked the way the detail of the eyelid was still visible even though the rest of the eye had been lost to the elements. I set my pencil against the page .

The sound of the traffic faded. I felt the grain of the paper, rough against my pencil point. My first lines were stuttery, - "hairy" my art professor called them, - but I soon found the assertive curve I was looking for. I turned the page to the side, pressing the line up to meet the swirl of stone hair. Engrossed in the deeply carved folds, I felt my shoulders fall down away from my ears and the knot in my stomach untangle .

I looked up sharply, the book falling off my lap and onto the pavement. I quickly snatched it up and unfolded the bent pages, muttering to myself .

Then I heard it again. I looked behind me. For a second it sounded like someone was calling my name. But that was impossible. I looked back down at the page. It was crap. I turned to a blank one, and paused. Had I really heard someone call my name ?

"Tallula!" floated across the square .

That was definitely my name .

I leaped up, letting my sketchpad fall to the ground once more. A blond man was barreling towards me at a full sprint .

I barely got Hudson's name out of my mouth before he slammed into me .

"What the?" I cried .

But he was crushing me with his kisses, stealing the breath from my lungs. "Oh my god," he murmured, holding me close. I could smell the clean scent of his perspiration and buried my face in his chest. I didn't know why he was so scared, but I suddenly felt frightened too .

"I was freaking out, not knowing where you were!" Hudson groaned, smoothing my hair away from my face .

"What are you doing here?" I babbled. A shadow fell over me and I looked up in surprised to see my brother suddenly standing there. Watching as Hudson kissed me over and over. The expression on his face was unreadable. "And you too? What did you think happened?" I asked them .

"The kidnappings," my brother said shortly. Hudson's arms tightened around me .

My mouth went dry. "Seriously? I just wanted to get away from the sound of the two of you fighting about me ."

"Bloody hell." Niall rubbed the back of his neck. Hudson loosened his grip a little, but he did not remove his arm from my shoulders, not even when Niall's glare grew hotter .

"You two teamed up to find me?" I couldn't help but tease. "Like a pair of bloody superheroes, yeah? Come to rescue me ?"

"Oh hush," my brother said at the same time Hudson laughed, "You're damn right ."

I shook my head. "You're adorable, you know." I went up on my tiptoes and kissed Hudson again. Then reached over to pinch Niall's already reddened cheek. "Both of you ."

Niall glared at us both, then threw up his hands. "Bloody hell," he repeated. "I'm heading back to the house. Hudson? She's your problem now." He glanced heavenward, mumbling .

"Was that your blessing then?" I demanded, poking him in the ribs. He exhaled sharply and didn't say anything. But I grinned all the same. "You're a good big brother ."

He glanced at Hudson again and some of the hardness left his eyes. "You're a terrible little sister," he complained to me. But he was starting to smile .