make you stay (g.d.)

twenty-two

elizabeth:

"grayson," i sigh. "the fresh linen candle smells like ass. light the blueberry muffin one."

he looks slightly offended as he scoffs and says, "excuse me, but blueberry muffin has absolutely nothing on fresh linen. do you want to smell cleanliness, or a kitchen that's been basking in blueberries all day? your pick."

"i already chose blueberry muffin," i say with a smile. "i thought we went over that already."

i see him shake his head as he blows out the flame on the burned out candle, and everything is dark again. the sky has turned ultra pitch black, but the rain is still pounding hard.

"what time is it?" i ask and grab the handheld lighter.

he checks his watch. "9 pm."

"also, why do you have a cigarette lighter?" i question as i stare at it in my hands.

he shrugs. "i had an edgy writer phase. i'd carry cigarettes with me and never light them. like the metaphor—"

"you put the killing thing between your lips, but don't give it the power to kill you." i finish. "i too had a john green phase."

"exactly! but i just kept the lighter with me because you never know when you need a handheld lighter."

i flick my finger against something, and a flame appears. i smile at it because i've always been mesmerized by fire.

i light the fresh linen candle (yuck) and place it back on the table. 

"so..." grayson drags out. "what do we do now?"

"we could finish our game."

"what game?"

"never have i ever," i roll my eyes. "duh."

"fine."

we settle back into the comfortable couch, our shoulders touching and our heads lolling back on the cushions.

"never have i ever... spent more than $100 in 15 minutes."

i frown. "i have, sadly. never have i ever gone cliff jumping naked."

"i have," i hear grayson laugh. "with my brother and some friends. it was kind of exhilarating."

i giggle. "i'll bet. your turn."

"never have i ever..." he trails off, thinking intently.

i turn to him, and in this moment as i stare at his face that's poorly illuminated by a few candles, i just want to know what if would feel like to be an us. to be together.

he must feel my eyes on him, because with a slight turn of his head, our eyes meet. as i stare into his hazel ones, i wonder what he sees in mine.

i notice the small capacity of room that is currently between us, and how it's gradually getting smaller by the second.

"elizabeth," he whispers softly, but i can't exactly tell why he's saying my name.

my heart races as i reach out to touch the collar of his shirt, and run my fingers over the stitching.

"nope," i whisper, cutting him off from saying anything else. "just kiss me."

and with zero hesitation, he does.

the feeling is invigorating, his warm lips are. they connect with mine in such a passion that i've never felt before. it leaves me scared, honestly.

he pulls me in closer with a hand on my cheek, and another on my waist until i'm practically on top of him. i keep my hands planted firmly on his chest, then loosely around his neck as the kiss deepens.

he tastes of spearmint and chapstick, which makes me never want to pull away.

"grayson," i whisper in between kisses, taking a deep breath.

"hm?" he asks.

i don't answer, because i never really had anything to say in the first place. i just wanted to lock in the moment, and i felt that saying his name would do it.

my mind tries to tune out the growing pit of fear in my stomach— fear that i'm letting my guard down. fear that he just might regret this.

and that's the only thing that makes me push him away.

he looks at me, confused, but an undeniable glimmer in his eyes. "what's wrong? what did i do?"

i struggle to breathe as i stand up off the couch and try to calm the unknown feeling in me. i've never felt like this, and i don't know what it is.

a feeling of nerves scrunches my stomach up every time i look at him. his laugh always, always choruses one out of me, and when he smiles, it's like my heart either stops working, or goes into overdrive.

i don't know what any of it means.

he notices my discomfort and quickly stands up, trying to come closer to me.

"no," i say, but it comes out weak and breathless. "please, i just need to breathe—"

"lizzy, watch out—"

i stumble backwards, tripping over a pillow that we threw to the ground when making our podcast.

that all felt so long ago.

my breaths come short and shallow as i sit on the floor, clutching the ankle i rolled over. he bends down to inspect it, but i scream. loud.

grayson immediately backs up, hands up as if he's surrendering.

"please talk to me, i need to know if you're okay," he says, and i can hear the fear and concern in his voice.

is this what a panic attack feels like?

"please, i just need to be on the balcony," i whimper.

"it's raining—"

"let me go on the balcony!" i yell. the panic and rush my body is feeling is becoming so overwhelming i wonder if i'm having a heart attack.

but i'm not, i reassure myself.

he lets me stand up on my own and i hop as quickly as i can to the sliding glass door. i fling it open, letting the fresh air consume me.

i inhale as if i'm dying of thirst in the desert, and the air is my first drink of water in weeks.

rain pounds on me, and within a matter of seconds i'm soaking, but i don't care. i just needed to be outside.

after a few minutes of regulating my breathing, i turn around with an ashamed look on my face. just as i expected, he's staring at me through the glass window.

what hurts me is that he looks so guilty. he thinks he did this to me.

and in a way, i guess he did. but in all other ways, this is entirely, entirely my fault.

i don't break my gaze, and he takes that as an invitation to slowly slide open the door.

"i'm sorry," i croak out before he can.

he shakes his head. "what just happened?"

i look at my bare feet, and my clothes that are drenched. "i—i don't know."

"come inside."

"but i'm wet—"

"when you're ready," he says with a gentle, but firm tone. "come inside."

he shuts the door and i lean against the railings, placing my head in my hands.

i've probably ruined it. i freaked out because i'm scared of falling, but with grayson it's like i have no choice.

he's always going to be the one.