Lifeless (Sequel to Soulless - Justin Bieber Love Story / Fan Fiction)

TWENTY-SEVEN

I remember when we were in high school. It was the night after Thanksgiving— the night after Justin met my entire family for the first time. I think about how nervous he was, and how badly he wanted to bail solely out of anxiety, but he didn't back out. He came and was able to spend a holiday with someone other than himself.

And I know he did it for me.

I'll never forget the way he gripped onto my hand so tightly when he walked through my front door like he needed me to get by. I teased him and told him that he was only so nervous because he wasn't used to using my front door, and maybe he'd feel better if he climbed through my window.

He laughed, but he was still nervous.

"I'm so glad you came," I say, my free hand gripping his forearm as we begin walking through the house. I squeeze his arm, his olive green sweater so soft beneath my fingers.

He doesn't say anything, but I feel him stroke the back of my hand with his thumb when I press my nose into his shoulder and kiss his arm in hopes to soothe him.

It turned out that his nerves were completely unnecessary. My family treated him like they knew him forever, and vise versa. It was like I blinked and Justin was drinking with my dad and watching the football game and telling my mom how fantastic dinner was. My grandmother couldn't get enough of him, my cousins talked to him like they were best friends.

Everything was just perfect.

And when we take a drive to Asbury Park the following night to spend some much needed time alone from the madness, the serenity and warmth I've been consumed with from Justin entering my life only continues.

Though it's nearing forty degrees, we can't help ourselves from wanting to borrow Connor's truck and lay in the bed of it while looking up at the sky as we listen to the waves crash against the shore. It's a bit nostalgic. There's also some weed involved, which was of course Justin's doing.

"Who was your favorite from last night?" I ask, blowing smoke out of my nose and passing the joint back over to him. I take the chance to wrap the blanket around me tighter, my head turning to face him against the softness of the pillow.

I can't help but stare as he rests the rolled cigarette between his lips, his jawline moving ever so slightly while breathing in and allowing the smoke to circle through him.

"Probably your grandma," he looks at me, giggling softly through his nose so that I can feel his breath on my face.

Dark lashes look like they go on for miles, his eyes so dreamy and passionate.

"What the fuck?" I scrunch my face, unable to suppress my laughter. "Why?"

He shrugs, handing it back over to me. "She told me that she liked me, and she also told me that if she was sixty years younger, she'd give you a run for your money."

"She did not," my eyes widen. I can't help but laugh.

The air smells crisp— it's cold. It's a smell that I'll never forget for as long as I live; the combination of the chilly air and the warmth of Justin's cologne.

As I draw in a deep breath, it's instinctive to close my eyes for just a moment to bask in what my life had so quickly become. I never felt lonely before Justin, even though I definitely was. Although I have a wonderful family and an incredible best friend and so many other people around me that care about me, there was no one I ever let in as closely as I let Justin. I feel like I've been missing out on closeness to people my entire life.