𝐈𝐍𝐊 - JAMIE CAMPBELL BOWER

13

     And Jamie would never admit it, but that was the complete opposite of the answer he wanted. He doesn't let it show. Instead, he smiles and nods understandingly. "Good," he says, trying to ignore the slight fracture in his heart.

     "I think so," you add. "I mean, I should."

     "Yeah, but do you?"

      Your head spins. It shouldn't have been that hard of a question, but it was. It was so irritatingly hard. How could you not love Xander? Everybody loved Xander with his perfect face and his perfect body and his perfect job. So, of course you loved Xander too.

     The answer never surpasses your lips, nor does Jamie push you further for it.

     He rises and turns to extend a hand in your direction. "Come on," he says.

     Lazily, you take his hand and allow him to pull you out of bed. You're not wearing much, aside from the pajamas you'd changed back into after skipping your writing class. The very class you recalled planning on never missing. Oh well.

    Jamie pulls you towards him, causing a pleasant scent you can't describe brush against your nose. The tingling feeling in your stomach was back.

     "What are you doing?" you ask, trying to ignore the fact that seeing him smile filled you with indisputable serotonin.

     He shrugs and moves to turn up the radio on the nightstand, causing an old tune to play louder and fill the room with its swaying kind of mood.

     "Sometimes, you just have to relax, okay? Just dance," he says and holds your hands, leading you to gently move with the music.

     You throw your head back in a fit of laughter. "Jamie, I am not doing this!" you exclaim.

     He furrows his burrows with a teasing smile. "Of course you are."

     A groan escapes you as he moves you to the center of the room, across from him. The smile on his face makes you think it's worth it.

     "Stop overthinking," he murmurs, squeezing your hands comfortingly.

     "Okay."

     And before you know it, he has you rocking to the tune. He leads you, and you happily fall in step with his movement. The two of you circle around the room, not too far, not to close. A fair amount of distance between you and it was just about as much fun as you'd had all day.

     "Ow!" Jamie cries, exaggeratedly limping the foot you'd just stepped on. He was such a drama king.

     "Shoot, sorry!" you say, holding back a laugh.

     He watches his next few steps cautiously. Shaking his head, he mumbles, "I'll have to start watching out for those floor grippers."

     "Oh please, what do you think that makes yours then?"

      Jamie only waves the comment off with a dramatic hand, when it returns, it holds your side instead. You smile slightly at the warm touch. He sure was good at taking your mind off things. There were only two people who could do that. First Tom, and now him.

      "Thanks," you whisper.

     You expect him to give you a puzzled face, maybe even ask, 'what for?' but instead, he just nods. He understands exactly what you mean. "You're welcome," he replies.

     The subtle rocking between the two of you slowed just slightly as the music continued to pour throughout the room. You could almost see the notes dancing and swirling around the two of you, wrapping you in a peaceful trance. 

      The moment almost seems fabricated, too beautiful to actually live in. This stuff happened in movies, but certainly never to you. Never in your life would you expect to be slow dancing in your pajamas with... your imaginary boyfriend. But when you look into his eyes, he doesn't seem so imaginary anymore. You could hold him, you could feel him, you could smell him, you could hear him.

     His eyes look bluer, deeper than they ever have appeared before. His smile is gentle and kind, but at the same time, it's larger than life. Your heart is beating faster than ever, but it feels good. It's exhilarating.

     And as if to make it worse, there's a magnetizing force that draws you closer. It's strong, it's entrancing—enchanting even. It captivated you in every way possible and you find yourself not able to look away from him. The way he's staring at you doesn't make it any better. He looks at you as if he's finally found something, as if he never wants to let it go again.

     It was dangerous. You hated it. Or maybe, you hated the fact that you loved it. Nothing had ever felt so right, so nice, so dangerously sweet.

      And when you glance down to his lips, you know you've gone to far. You're falling, deeper and deeper, and if you don't stop yourself now, you may never find your way back up.

     You pull away. This was wrong. "Right, thanks," you chuckle, stepping away from the crime scene. "You're a good dancer."

     Jamie nods, hiding any clear disappointment on his face. You can't tell what he's thinking right now. "You're not so bad yourself, love."

     He walks away and the absence of his presence should have put a wall between you too, but instead, it felt as if all the remaining barriers had just crashed down.

     And you were falling with them.