Chapter 1

A/N: A/N: Hey! So I'm just "reposting" this story from my old account that lasted...a few days? Anyway, this is nonetheless my first ever story ever on Fictionpress, so yup. Be kind to me!

Anyway, please tell me what you think of it! Positive and negative cocomments/reviews will be highly appreciated. Thank you!

It was the break of dawn in Helena, Montana U.S. After sixteen hours of nonstop driving, Dallon Claiborne, a senior high school with fiery red hair and lean build, finally pulled up in front of the Jackson household. He breathed out heavily and relaxed his grip on the steering wheel. The neighborhood is silent, as is his stepsister, Persephone, who is fast asleep on the backseat with her head propped on Brendon's shoulder, who just so happens to be his younger brother. Brendon's asleep too, and watching them from the rare view mirror just reminds Dallon how badly he wanted to sleep as well. He raised his hands and firmly rubbed his bloodshot eyes.

He looked out the window and stared at the house, taking in the white-washed walls, red roof and gutters, the weathered porch and the cleanly kept lawn split by a cemented driveway all covered in a thin layer of snow. Dallon slumped back in his seat, as he compare the house to the nice apartment his family had back in New York. Sure enough, this house is quite lovely, but he prefer home. He'll be having insomnia again, for sure. Heaven knows how long it will take him to adjust living in this whole new place.

He glanced at the rare view mirror once again and watched Persy sleep. His heart softened at once, and it's okay again. He reminds himself that this is all for Persy. How hard could moving be if you'll be doing it for someone you love? No matter how much he doesn't like changes?

The sun paints the thick mass of clouds on the horizon with red and orange. Dallon twisted to look at his two siblings at the backseat -one by blood, the other by marriage.

"Hey, come on guys," he called in an attempt to waking them up, "we're here."

The two didn't budge. He reached out then, and prodded Persy's knee with a finger. Slowly, her eyes fluttered open, showing her golden irises, and she sat up completely, waking Brendon in the process. She rubbed her eyes with her fists and blinked several times, before looking over at Dallon. Dallon nodded outside, and she looked out her window to the right. The house registered into her brain, reliving old memories, and Dallon watch her stare at it with nostalgia.

"Wow..." she muttered in a very low voice, making Dallon grin. She can't believe she's here again, after three years of being away to New York. It's quite unbelievable.

"We can still go back home, you know, if you want," Brendon grumbled from beside her, obviously not at all pleased of leaving his home back in New York.

Dallon snorted, twisting back in front to get the keys from the ignition. "Yeah, sure, go back all the way to New York when you just had me driving for a total of, I don't know, forty-five hours? Sometimes I wonder about your ways of showing your concern for your older brother."

Brendon merely rolled his eyes, and then got out the car after Persy. She stood silent by the white picket-fence surrounding the house, her hands stuffed inside the pocket of her red anorak. It took her a couple of minutes before finally crossing the driveway and walking up to the white weathered porch, Brendon just right behind her. She climbed up the rickety steps of the porch and rung the doorbell. Blowing a stray strand of strawberry blonde hair from her forehead, Persy stood patiently with her arms crossed over her chest, her lips pursed in anticipation. Dallon is watching from the driver's seat in the car.

After ringing the doorbell yet two more times, they finally heard footsteps behind the door. There are clatters of metal as the locks are being undone, and the front door swung open at last, showing a disgruntled Tryon leaning lazily against the door frame.

There was a burning sensation behind Persy's eyes and she wanted to cry...

...

Tryon Jackson, a twenty-five years old college grad, is very, very very happy to see his younger cousin standing on his porch. It's a miracle. What he's feeling right now couldn't be mistaken for anything else; it's just pure bliss.

She'd been away from him for three freaking years, and never had his rare visits to New York been enough for him. He doesn't like it when he can't keep track of her life. Doesn't like it when there's somebody else to protect her for him. She's the sister he never had, the cousin he'd always loved, and the best friend he could ever wish for.

Seeing her now…

Persy's thin, pink lips spread into a heartwarming smile, and she stepped forward to pull Tryon into a tight embrace, her arms wrapped around his neck.

"Oh Tryon, I missed you…" she whispered as he tighten his hug on her.

Persy loved to be able to live with Tryon again. He's her cousin and best friend, after all. He pulled away and held her in arm's length, a cheeky grin plastered on his face.

"Glad you're back," he said and pulled her to his side. It was only then that he spotted Brendon, who's waiting, albeit impatiently, on the bottom step of his porch. 'Of course,' Tryon thought bitterly, 'it's Persy's stepbrother. How could I have forgotten HE'S coming…'

"Hey," he said to Brendon in an attempt to be civil, and Brendon merely nodded in acknowledgment. Tryon always hated this one particular redhead. He dreaded the guy's mere existence, and hated seeing him even during his visits to Persy in New York. He's outright rude, has that occasional mood swings, and he's selfish. Now he'll be living with him under one roof for who knows how long. Just perfect. Really.

Dallon came from behind Brendon, and Tryon welcomed him with much more sincerity. This one he could stand. They firmly shook hands.

"Nice that you made it and all," Tryon said as he open the door wider for all of them to enter.

Dallon forgot to study his surroundings, like he used to, as they were ushered into the living room, since he's so tired. He went sprawling down the first couch he got near to, taking up all the space. On the other hand, Brendon took up the two-seater couch just beside it, immediately falling asleep again the moment his head hit the cushion.

Persy sighed, glancing around the room, Tryon watching her carefully.

"You…changed it," was all she could say. She stuffed her balled fists inside the pockets of her anorak. Her eyes roamed all over the white living room, with a huge TV on one end and a couple of black leather couches on the other. The red carpet she so once loved was gone, along with the once mellow lightings that are replaced with just immaculate white ones. The black and white theme was applied to the rest of the house, as she just discovered when Tryon took her to the kitchen.

Persy pulled a bar stool and sat on top of it, leaning against the countertop of the clean, white kitchen. Tryon smiled at her as he grab a jar of tea leaves from a cupboard and settled on making tea.

"You changed everything," Persy muttered silently, her eyes never leaving his. "A bachelor's den," she mumbled. Tryon put on a smirk, the one Persy recognized he wears when he's hurting inside.

"I had to," he said, putting water on the kettle, "You know, when mother died. I want to erase everything that reminds me of her." He looked at Persy.

Persy looked down at the countertop beneath her clasped hands. "I missed you, Tryon. Oh, I miss this," she said softly, before looking up to see his face. Tryon smiled at her. "Yeah, you should never have left."

The smell of cinnamon and spearmint wafted and mixed in the air, and Tryon gave Persy her tea. A comfortable silence surrounded them for a while, before Tryon spoke again. "So, Persy, tell me. Is there any new guy? I want to know more about New York."

Persy grinned as she sip on her cup of cinnamon, "Oh, there isn't much to tell, you know…"

And it was like the old times again.

...