Good Morning

Twenty-fourth Morning

"What did I do to make you hate me?" he whispers, eyes a little wider and full of concern.

"What did you do?" She finds it easier to laugh when he looks like he wants to cry.

"You mean since the morning? Oh, there were too many to list off." And he's doing that now. He's playing with the tips of her hair, and it makes her knees wobble and the warmth in her stomach churn.

"Since then," she says simply, and he finally stops fiddling with her hair. He looks up at her with an indescribable expression.

"Well, there was a lot of time before then," he murmurs, voice low and subdued. She nods her head at that, not really wanting to think of the implications of what she just admitted.

"It wasn't just sleeping though," he continues.

"What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean." He's not playing with her anymore, and his eyes are fixed on hers in a way that feels like a challenge.

"I'm sorry I've made you feel that way, but we're just not on the same page anymore," she says plainly, and she feels the way he tenses at her words.

"It doesn't have to be that way." He's pleading now, and maybe this is it. Maybe this is when she gets what she wanted for so long. She really hopes it'll be worth the effort and the pain and the inevitable awkwardness.

"Yes. It does. We can't ever go back to what we were, Jay," she says as softly as she can manage, and she's still trying to look at him, but he's looking at everything but her.

"What if I want to try?" he asks, and the words seem foreign. It's hard to find out that he's changed just as much as she has.

"What?" she chokes out.

He turns to face her, and it's harder to breathe with the intensity of his stare. "I think it's worth a try."

"You're not thinking clearly," she says as if that'll somehow make her heart stop pounding.

"You've changed, and I think you're worth it."

"It doesn't work that way." She knows that she's trying to convince herself more than him at this point.

"What if it does?"

She shakes her head and it feels like it's getting lighter. "We can't do this."

"I think we can," he whispers, and she doesn't know why she's trying to keep her breathing steady or the tears from forming because they're definitely going to fall.

"We can't," she echoes.

"But you want to," he says, and there's a strange sense of conviction in his tone that makes her feel something akin to hopeful.

"Of course I do, but that doesn't mean we should. You can't say you don't want to anymore. You can't look at me and pretend that you're not seeing me. I'm just not that girl, Jay. I'm not your dream girl anymore."

"That's not true," he starts, "I see you. I'm looking at you now. And I still don't care."

She can feel the way he's holding her hand tighter now, and maybe she doesn't want to let go anymore. "How do you not care?"

"It's you."

He's looking at her so intently that it makes her forget how to breathe again. She doesn't even remember when she fell in love with him, but it must have happened then. It must have happened while she was staring at him with that same intensity while he played with the ends of her hair or the way she woke up to him laughing at something.

"It's me," she breathes, "but what if something happens?"

"Then it'll happen."

"How can you be so sure?"

He shrugs, "I guess I'm just an idiot."

She feels a smile tug at her lips, "It doesn't sound like the worst thing in the world."

"Maybe not," he whispers before leaning in and kissing her. She's not sure when he got so close, but the only thing she can feel is his lips and the way her heart is thundering against her rib cage. His arms wrap around her waist as hers find his shoulders, and she knows in that moment that there's no going back anymore. She thinks she might never want to.

"What was that for?" she asks once he's pulled away.

"Just wanted to see if you still tasted the same."

"How long have you been holding that in?" she wonders, still trying to catch her breath.

"I'm just a man, Nya. There are things you don't know about."

"That's true," she laughs, and it feels good. "What do you say we make a plan of action, starting with you in bed."

She can see the way he smiles, "Are you saying that you're going to take care of me?"

"Don't push it." She slaps him on the arm before leading him back to his room.

"Ow! No hitting the injured, okay? And you don't have to do anything you don't want to. We can just cuddle. Or not. Whatever," he rambles, and it's a little cute to see him act this way.

"It's going to be hard being friends after all," she says under her breath.

"Well, it's going to be hard for you anyway," he mumbles before letting her guide him into the tiny bedroom of the lighthouse. "So, are you going to sit there, or are you going to sleep with me?"

And maybe she didn't want to laugh, but she couldn't help it. "I thought you wanted to cuddle, Jay."

He makes a sound in his throat, "I never said I didn't want to sleep with you."

"I hate you sometimes," she mutters before climbing into the bed and wrapping her arms around him in that moment. She can feel the way he presses a kiss to her forehead before burying his face in the crook of her neck. And even when she wants to move, she can't. It's as if her arms are pinned to his sides with the way his hold on her is so strong.

"I know," he whispers against her skin.

She can't bring herself to be mad, not when he's holding her like this and he's breathing steadily. "Go to sleep, Jay," she says.

She feels his lips at the shell of her ear and his voice is barely a murmur, "I can't."

She waits for him to elaborate, but he doesn't.

"You can tell me what's bothering you when you're ready," she starts, "but you have to realize that it doesn't make me hate you any more."

"What do you mean?" He seems more alert now.

"It means, if you really care for me the way you say you do, then you should stop pretending and just tell me," she murmurs.

He sighs before he seems to sink back into her. "I don't think I'm worthy of you anymore, but I guess that's the thing with you. You make me feel worthy of something I never thought I'd have."

"You're still you," she mumbles.

He shrugs, "But I'm not the same as I was. I've changed."

"I know," she whispers.

He laughs, "You really don't."

She hums, "Maybe not."

She can feel his lips pressing against her shoulder and it's a little ticklish. "I think I'm just going to go to sleep."

She nods even though he can't see her. "Okay."

"Goodnight, Nya."

"Goodnight, Jay."

And maybe she doesn't need sleep as much as she needs him.