Will is silent on the drive to my house. The window on his side is rolled down, and he's still holding his cigarette. There's a lighter in the same hand.

Turns out that it was never me who was close to the edge. It was Will. He was the one who fell, holding his hands out as far as they could stretch to survive...but I wasn't there to catch him like he always caught me. I didn't realise things were this bad. Will always told me to let go of my worries, he tried to help me love life. But he didn't even believe any of the stuff he told me. In the process, he was trying to tell that to himself.

He lifts the cigarette and flicks the lighter, ready to ignite it.

"Don't," I quickly stop him.

He pauses, allowing the lighter to go out without setting the cigarette.

"You don't need it," I tell him. "You've been doing so well. I know you can do it."

Slowly, he takes the cigarette out of his mouth and puts down the lighter. He chooses to hold my hand instead, rubbing the pad of his thumb against it and creating small patterns.

We don't speak for the rest of the ride. We don't need to. Simply our presence is enough to bring comfort and safety. At least, it is for me.

When we arrive at my house and set his bags down in the hallway, Ginger sets off and runs into the living room where he jumps around on the sofa.

"Shit, sorry. Do you want me to get him off?" Will asks in a panicked tone.

I laugh and shake my head. "He's fine. Mum doesn't mind dog hair...just make sure he doesn't rip it up. I'm not sure she'd be very pleased about that."

As if on cue, my mum turns around the corner and greets us both with a large smile. "Hello, you two. What a lovely surprise."

"Hi, mum...You're home early."

She checks the watch on her wrist and sighs. "I did an extra shift last week, so I get the evening off tonight." She looks back up and smiles at Will. "Hello, lovely. Nice to see you again."

"And you."

Ginger sprints out of the room suddenly, making himself known to my mum.

She shrieks and presses her hand to chest, almost jumping out of her skin. "My goodness, you gave me a fright. Is this your dog?"

Will nods his head. "That's Ginger."

"Well hello, Ginger. Aren't you adorable?" Mum crouches down to give him belly rubs and ear scratches.

I awkwardly clear my throat and step out of my trainers. "Is it okay if Will sleeps in the spare bedroom tonight?"

She looks up at me, smiling brightly and beaming at the both of us. "Of course. You can choose whatever room — the guest room, Sean's old room, River's room. Have you had anything to eat? There's some fries out in the kitchen if you want it."

"I'm good thank you, Ms Emerson," he tells her politely. "Thank you for letting me stay, it's really kind of you."

"It's not a problem at all. And please, call me Penny. Ms Emerson makes me feel old."

Will chuckles in a charming manner. This seems so easy for him; to meet the parent and come up with the right things to say and do. Whereas I struggle with the simplest of tasks.

I wish I could be more like him.

We should exchange notes.

"I'm going to watch Holby City. You two have a good night. I'll see you in the morning hopefully," she tells us both, winking at me in the process.

My mum is not perfect. She says some questionable things, sometimes makes me feel bad, and doesn't realise that I'm struggling. But she really is the best. She tries, and that's all that matters. She brought me up on her own. My dad was around, but he was also absent. Mum was the one who turned up at my sports days and was front row at all my school plays. She would clap and cheer for me, she would place my photos around the house, she would stroke my hair and kiss my head while putting me to sleep, she would come into my room and would wipe my tears and apologise when my dad was cruel. She made me soup when I was ill, but forced herself to go into work when she was feeling the same just to provide for us. She's kind and she's sweet. She smiles when she's unhappy, she pretends to be okay. Maybe that's why she can't see that I'm doing the same. It's so normal for her now.

I'm grateful and I would never dream of having a different mum. She's the only mum I want.

Will and I go to my room with Ginger where we listen to music and read a book together. We've started The Hunger Games Trilogy, but we only ever open the book when we're together. We're not allowed to read a single word when the other is not there. We've already made a pinky promise—and locked it.

"Wait." Will stops me from turning the page too soon. I'm so lost in the story that I forget he's reading it with me. "Okay, done."

We turn the page together.

"We should write a book one day," Will mutters.

"About what?"

"Us."

I smile, my nose scrunching up. "Us?"

"Yep."

"What about us?"

"Everything. Our story. How this all began and all we went through."

I lay on my side and gaze deeply into his eyes that get me lost in a world of my own. "You really think people would actually read it?"

"Definitely. We'd be telling the raw truth."

"We definitely should then."

"One day," he promises me.

Ginger creeps up towards us and lays in the middle, preventing Will and I from cuddling and laying together. We don't mind so much. We just laugh and find the situation sweet.

Will's hand reaches over and holds my waist, making up for not being able to be in one another's arms. I stroke my fingers up his hand and arm, stroking over his tattoo and his scars. I draw patterns over them and then plant kisses in all those places he was once hurting. Will draws in a deep breath as he feels my lips against the bare skin of his arms. He blushes deeply and swallows hard, but lets a small smile crawl onto his cheeks.

It's moments like this when I realise just how fond of Will I am. I fear to part from him, I only feel safe in his presence, he's all I ever think about, he's the first person I ever opened up to. Will has shown me a completely new side to life. This pure side that makes me finally feel free from the horrors of my own mind. With Will, everything is bliss. Everything is silent.

It's become such a deep feeling, that now I fear to lose him. Even though I believe and trust that he'll never hurt me, I still fear that he will do just that. My own insecurities take over me and cause worries and anxiety to cloud my judgment.

I'm just so scared to grow more attached. What if he hurts me? What if he leaves? What if I'm not good enough? It was so much easier when I had this guard up and wouldn't allow him close enough to my heart where his presence could actually be felt by it. I'm scared that I won't be able to live without him if he goes. I'll break and crumple into dust on the ground we walk over.

Either way, I'm going to try. I'm not going to run and push myself away simply because I'm scared. I've done that too many times and I've ruined so many things that could've been good for me. Will is good for me. I know that for a fact. So I refuse to let him go, even though my heart is in a vulnerable position; so much so that it could be glass in his hands. I'm giving it to him willingly, allowing him to be close enough where he can shatter it into a thousand pieces.

After growing up with my father and that environment, it's difficult to believe that anyone could love me.

"Will," I whisper, entwining our hands. "Why did you never tell me how bad your family is?"

"I did."

"You told me they were bad. You didn't say to that extent. The way they treated you...it was horrible. They treated you like you weren't even human."

He's still and silent, unaware of how to respond.

"I'm sorry for not helping more."

"You're letting me stay here tonight," he disagrees.

"I mean before that." I sit up abruptly and almost gasp at the sudden thought that comes to mind. "Where are you going to go after this?"

He shrugs his shoulders and yawns. "I'll figure it out."

"You can stay here until you find somewhere."

"I can't."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to ruin us by moving too quick. Moving in with you is just a recipe for disaster at this point in our...whatever we are."

"Where will you go then?"

Will sits up and combs his hand through his messy hair. "Ryan's dad loves me. They've always offered for me to stay at theirs until I figure things out — if I pay rent of course. I'll stay with him for a while."

"Are you sure?" I ask.

Will nods his head and gives me a sleepy smile. "I'll be fine. Don't worry about me."

Of course I'm going to worry. I always worry.

We return to our music, forgetting about the book that rests on my nightstand. Will closes his eyes and relaxes back against my bed, his body dipping in the soft sheets that are kind against our skin.

I take note of every aspect of his face, trying to memorise it so I never forget. His dark eyelashes rest against his upper cheeks. They're much longer than mine, which I've always found unfair. I don't have much interest for beauty or looking good, but I wouldn't mind my eyelashes being a little longer. Freckles dot his nose, they're usually more noticeable in the summer when the sun hits his face, but the cold winter weather has caused them to fade. Small hairs peak out of his chin and up the sides of his face, clearly freshly shaved. I wonder what he would look like with a beard, and the thought makes me chuckle silently. Will must be sleeping, because he doesn't seem to hear me.

The music continues playing and the lamp on my desk stays on when I pull the duvet over Will's body, being extra careful to not wake him up. I sneak under and curl up into a ball as I close my eyes and try to sleep. I'm not tired in the slightest, but being here with Will is the only thing I want to experience. No music or book could ever compare.

"Come here," Will mumbles in a sleepy voice.

I turn my head to look over my shoulder. His eyes are still closed, but he's opened one of his arms up, waiting for me to crawl in beside him. My cheeks are warm as I hesitantly lay my head on Will's chest and hold onto his right bicep, stroking my fingers over his veins and arm hairs. He wraps around me, pulling me close and burying his head in my hair. My heart almost beats out my chest when I feel him press a light kiss against the top of my head. I can feel him smiling, so I'm positive he can feel how hard my heart is beating against him right now.

Ginger slowly joins us, resting his head over Will's hips. My eyes close in comfort as the warm and safe feeling consumes me.