To friends who don’t know you, something else.”They held hands, “Are you sure about this?” Dean asked.“Are you?”Dean shrugged.“Maybe thi... will help,” his mother said, slowing bringing her hands to his face, stepping forward kissing him.It was slow and tender, her lips pressing against his. His hand at her waist once more, he kissed back, their lips parting slightly.“Well?” Monica asked.Dean didn’t answer with words. He squatted and pick up his mother, her legs wrapping around his waist, his. It was the first time that Mark's voice ever terrified me, shaky and shallow, as he fought back tears. I felt nothing could hurt me more, and it would take a year to prove how wrong I could be.Helping me to pack my things, I left my dorm room at the University thinking I would probably not be back. The school year was almost over and in the car on the way to home Mark's hand never left mine.Our parents death hit the both of us pretty hard. Over the past year they had reconciled their. More

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