Dismantle. Repair.

She never should have fallen for him. She told herself over and over not to let it happen, that he would bring heartache, that she should try and escape him but the orchestra played on.

Nathan Young was a force to be reckoned with, and Lacey knew it. She'd heard stories from friends about him. He was confident and bold. He didn't have a care in the world but playing his drums. He was spontaneous and energetic, everything she was not.

Lacey never knew the feeling of love because she had built up a wall around her heart at a young age. Ever since he father left her mother when she was six, Lacey never really trusted men. And her distrust only grew with age. Now, at the age of twenty, Lacey was single and alone. She never felt like it mattered until he walked into her life one night.

Nathan had never been the luckiest person with love. Of course, he'd had girlfriends but nothing really substantial. He contributed this to the fact that he toured for the majority of the year and that didn't leave much time for relationships. Plus, not many people can handle long distances and one call every few days, that is if you're lucky.

When Nathan met Lacey, he knew she was the one. He knew she would be the one to change his bad luck with women. The only thing he didn't know was that Lacey needed to be dismantled and repaired first.

He led her outside the dingy house party and asked if they could talk. Lacey, not really thinking about it, said yes. He told her, "The night is young and so are we." Lacey was hooked from then on.

She felt safe with him and she opened up to him that night. She couldn't tell if it was because maybe she trusted him deep-down inside or if it was the two drinks she'd consumed. He knew the right things to say. Lacey told him about her family, her distrust of men. "Things are gonna change now, for the better," Nathan said softly to her. It was almost as though he was perfect.

"I don't know why but I feel comfortable with you," Lacey whispered to him. Her head was lying against his chest, listening to his heart and breathing. "I'm the patron saint of lost causes," he replied causing Lacey to lift her head up to see the wide smile across Nathan's face.

It went on like that for three weeks. Only to Lacey, it felt like years. Like she'd known him her whole life. And Nathan felt the same way; he couldn't keep anything from her. Hands, like secrets, were the hardest things they could keep from each other. And almost every time, their hands won the fight. Taking over each other in lust.

"I once stole money from my mom's purse to go see a show," Nathan said in Lacey's ear once when they were laying in bed together. "I've never had any belief in God," she told him back. "I'm not afraid of dying." Lacey looked at him in the eye, "I used to be afraid of living."

Lacey and Nathan agreed on one thing from the beginning about their relationship: no promises, only honesty. Slowly this policy began to dismantle Lacey's barriers and Nathan could tell.

Around the fourth week that they'd known each other, Nathan admitted to her that he wanted to spend his lifetime with her. That this was just a prelude to a lifetime with her. "I'm never letting go," he said with her hands in his. Only three days later, he had to.

The last time Nathan saw Lacey, she was sitting in the back of taxi. He watched as it drove off, as she turned around to get one last glance. She didn't wave; she just spun back around and left the one guy who could figure her out.

The slip of paper in Nathan's hands that Lacey handed him as she walked out the door was now unfolded. It read, "Hands, like secrets, are the hardest thing to keep from you. Lines and phrases, like knives, your words can cut me through." It didn't make much sense to him until her cab was long gone.

He'd dismantled her, only to let her leave him in need of repair.