(chapter thirty-one.) you and "peaches", huh?
❝ GO... BACK TO EATING. YOU'RE GOOD AT THAT. ❞

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POET, PARIS, AND DIEGO WERE WALKING DOWN THE STAIRS AFTER all three of them managed to pin Klaus to his chair. Well, Diego was holding him down whereas Poet placed happy memories of him and Dave in his mind instead of the ones where he sees Dave's death and Paris sped around in circles to wrap the rope around the man.

"We have to leave soon," Poet sighed, checking her watch and checking her phone as she got sent a message for Allison's old schedule. "It was nice meeting you, peaches."

"I mean it was alright meeting you, I guess," Paris said, throwing a sarcastic smile towards Diego as the man rolled his eyes playfully at the 14-year-old. Paris patted his back harshly and it caused Diego to almost miss a step. "Watch out, old man. Don't fall."

"Paris whatever-your-middle-name-is Capulet," Diego reached his hand out to grab a hold of the boy, but obviously forgetting his powers, Paris sped away from him into the room where the whole Hargreeves' family withheld meetings in. "Come on, kid. Fine, your aunt and I are gonna leave you alone-"

"I thought your mom, you know..." Poet cleared her throat as she and Diego looked at a figure out of the corner of their eyes when they passed by the entryway of the room Paris went in. "I don't want to say it."

"Hold my hand," Diego looked at her when she turned to look at him. "Please."

Poet nodded and did as he told her so. They connected hands and he grabbed her hand tightly, his fingers intertwining themselves with hers. They both walked slowly inside the room where Paris was talking to Grace while helping her clean.

"Mom?" Diego breathed out, in shock after seeing the one he shut down standing in front of him as if nothing occurred. Grace turned to look at Diego with a smile. A kind smile. And Poet watched as Diego's eyes blurred with tears for a second before he blinked them away.

"Oh! Hello, Diego, dear," she said, turning her head to look at Poet. Grace smiled at her. "Hello, Poet."

"Hi, Grace."

She headed towards them as Diego spoke up. "How are you..." The two directed their gaze towards Grace's arm, noticing the skin where Diego cut stitched up, "walking around?"

"One foot in front of the other," Grace slight chuckled at her words as did Poet. "Why? How do you do it? Do you do it like that Poet?" 

The girl nodded. 

"Mom, I..." Diego started, still holding his mom's arm in the hand that wasn't holding Poet's. He continued, "What's the last thing you remember?"

"Oh, let's see... March 21st. Sunset was 7:33 pm. Moon was waxing crescent. Dinner was Cornish hen, rice, carrots," Poet looked at Grace with an awed look, still not used to her. She thought it was fabulous how Grace was. And is. Grace was such a great mother and despite being told multiple times before that the Capulets were a competition and to never be liked by the Hargreeves. But Grace didn't seem to believe that as she smiled at Poet and Paris, fed them, and talked to them like a mother should.

"Mom that happened over a week ago," Grace only stared at him. "Do you remember anything else?"

Grace stayed quiet before she replied. "No. I suppose that's odd." She looked around the room. "I wonder what the weather is like today. It would be nice to go to the park."

"Mr. Hargreeves never left you off the grounds," Poet said with a confused tone, remembering what Allison had told her before about how her father never let her mother go outside. Diego nodded his head in agreement.

Grace got a hold of both of their hands that weren't holding each other. Diego looked down at his hand that his mother got. "Your father isn't here anymore."

Diego and Poet looked at each other, turning to look at Grace with a proud smile. Paris grinned at Grace, too, crossing his arms. "You can do whatever you want, Mom."

"Hm."

The trio watched as Grace walked away, leaving the three in a silence.

☂

"I bet you a dollar that I can fit this whole donut in my mouth."

Poet looked at Paris with a raised eyebrow and looked at him with a smirk. She nodded. "Make it five."

The Capulets were currently walking behind Grace and Diego as they walked together in the park. Poet and Paris found this opportunity to catch up on some stuff and talk about their feelings as they usually did. It was something that Poet came up with, not wanting Paris to end up like his mother as she isolated herself and didn't speak to anyone about how she felt. Poet didn't want to lose someone that had her family's blood and Poet didn't want to lose someone she was so close to.

Paris stuffed the entire chocolate donut inside his mouth and gave Poet a grin with crumbs falling out of his mouth. He stuck out his hand. "Pay up."

Poet groaned, taking out her wallet from her back pocket and looking for a five dollar. He handed the five dollar bill to her nephew and looked at him with an emotionless face. Paris snickered, putting away the money in his backpack because he knew that he would lose the money in a matter of seconds.

"So how was it at grandma's?" Poet asked, looking down at Paris. Paris shrugged, chewing the food so he could speak clearly.

"It was okay," Paris answered. "But I missed you and home. It was so lonely and Grandma's cooking... I love her but her food is not good? Like she can cook certain food but there's some food that just doesn't taste good... Not to be mean or anything!"

Poet chuckled at her nephew's words before looking over her shoulder to look at her brother standing there, smiling at the two smiling and laughing with each other.

"So," Paris started, smirking at his aunt. "You and "peaches", huh?"

"Shut up," Poet's smiled trailed. "Go... back to eating. You're good at that."

"Yeah, and I'm also good at noticing when someone has a crush on someone," Paris said. "For example, your gigantic crush on Diego despite it only being a couple of days. And all I can say is he definitely is attracted to you."

"Paris," Poet groaned, rubbing her hand over her face. "Be quiet."

"What?" Paris chuckled out. "I'm just saying. He definitely likes you. But you both are wimps and you won't do anything."

"Oh shut up," she grumbled out before a devious grin appeared on her face. "What about you and Juliet?"

"Shut up, Aunt Poet," Paris blushed.

"And you know what's funny?" Poet smiled at him sarcastically. Paris hummed. "In the book, Paris and Juliet never happened. And you both aren't going to happen until you turn seventeen."

"W-what? That's not fair!"

"It is fair because you're a kid. 14, Paris. You're not going to date anyone until you're 17. Final."

"But there are already people dating and their parents let them! And they're my age!"

"Am I their parents? No. And you should be grateful that I'm letting you date at age 17. I would've said 21 but I'm making it fair."

"Yeah, yeah."

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AUTHOR'S NOTE!

so i just want to say thank you
to you all who are following
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