Fuck me good, fuck me long, fuck me numb.
Love me now, when I'm gone. Love me none.

~

THE SUN HAD blistered through the window when my eyes peeled open.

I was vaguely aware that I was pressed against Jimin, his smooth and warm back attached to my chest, my arm wrapped around his tapered torso. My hand was splayed against his chest and his fingers were clutching mine.

I flexed my fingers and he mumbled something incoherent before tightening his grasp on my hand, pulling me closer. When I lifted my head, it hit me then that he was somehow the little spoon in this situation and I was the big one.

It almost made me smile.

Almost.

I breathed deeply and sat up, careful not to wake him. I was in search of my clothes but I paused when I noticed the condition of the motel room.

It was an utter wreck.

The table in the corner had been flipped over and the lamp that sat on it was smashed to bits on the rug. The drapes of the curtains had been shredded down the middle, my shirt somehow hanging from the bent bar that held the precarious structure together.

The chair I had smoked my joint in was thrown across the room specifically upside down by the bathroom door. Pillows were on the floor, feathery fluff fluttering around the room. The TV was cracked and lying against the floor as was a mirror swinging back and forth on the wall with several cracks too.

Bottles and paintings were destroyed even the fucking bed we were laying on was in peril. We managed to break two out of the four legs and the headboard along with it.

I turned to the sleeping prince — beautiful in his birthday suit, hair fanned over his forehead, cheeks slightly pink, and a little snore leaving his lips — and
sighed.

Apprehension filled me instantaneously because deep down, I knew this shouldn't have happened. I didn't know how I let it get this far, get too bad, to the point he was choking over words as he confessed he loved me. And how in the world could I let myself fall for him, get in bed with him?

I had opened a door, a dangerous door that I knew for certain couldn't be closed. I was such a fucking idiot. This was such a huge problem. I didn't even understand how I had the mental fortitude to not even say "I love you" back after all the bridges I had already burned in the process.

But I didn't have to say it for it not to be real. I knew I loved him regardless of whether those words ever left my mouth or not.

And that was my cue to get up.

I couldn't be in this room any longer.

I gently pried my hand from his grasp and slipped out of the bed with much difficulty. I had never been so careful in throwing on some clothes especially watching where I stepped because of the carnage below.

There was no saving my underwear and for a second, I was fooled into believing my shirt was salvageable but the fabric had been torn so ruthlessly that there was no repair for it.

I put on my jeans and stole his humungous shirt and jacket, making sure to empty out the contents in them. I was silent as a mouse as I grabbed my shoes that were close to the broken dresser on his side and decided it was best to put them on outside.

The cold hit me when I stepped outside.

It was bright, so bright I wished I had boughten sunglasses to shield my eyes away from the annoying sun and its persistence to attack my vision.

I went down the steps and towards the front office. I pushed open the door and that was enough to gather the concierge from last night's attention and piss him off. He stared at me like I was the most hated person in the world and scowled but as his eyes moved up and down my body, I could see a hint of worry flash across his face.

I knew I looked like shit.

I felt like it too. I was impossibly sore.

"Good morning," I rasped and drifted towards the coffee machine. I was in desperate need for a hit of caffeine, a taste of alertness. He ignored me as I tried to figure out what the hell I had ever done to him to dislike me or who so unkindly pissed in his cereal.

I worked on the coffee, turning on the machine.

The concierge made a face of criticism for no reason, his tongue swiping against the white cracks of his bottom lip. He brushed his fingertips on the magazine pages and then toyed with the button of his flannel. His eyes seemed to be on the magazine but they weren't necessarily reading. I knew they were flashing toward me.

I poured the steaming coffee into two of the plastic containers and reached for the sugar and creamer in one of them. The white powder sprinkled across the counter and the liquid sloshed noisily in the cup.

I sealed the lids gently and turned around, raising an eyebrow at the sound coming from the bootlegged television, the screen streaked with black lines and hints of color though I knew it was on the news station. I recognized one of the anchors.

"Excuse me," I glanced at the man staring a hole into my face, "Could you—could you turn this up?"

He sighed with annoyance and reached from behind the desk toward a drawer containing the remote. He begrudgingly pressed his thumb on the sound insulator and rested his face on his palm afterward but his eyes followed the tv too, curiosity peaking at my interest.

"We are coming to you live after a report of an uprising in Seoul yesterday evening. Several buildings were burned down including the MOXLEY, the infamous nightclub owned by business mogul and city playboy, Park Jimin. The police have been trying to locate him for questioning since the ventures that were torched were his but his whereabouts are currently unknown as is his family."

Under the guise of the hellacious flecks on the screen, I saw a picture of Jimin, brown hair, no smile, and a straight face. Then there popped a photo of the MOXLEY, crisped away into ash with firefighters with ridiculously large hoses funneling water through pipes and hydrants to diffuse the flames.

"From our sources, this seemed to be a hit to the young entrepreneur. Park over the years has been involved in several high-profile cases. It is to note that he has been acquitted of all of those charges. The same cannot be said for his business partner, Silas Bantuera, who currently has been out on bail awaiting trial for the charges of kidnapping and assault on a young woman known as Nina Perez."

There was an image of one of Jimin's many mugshots and in this one, he was smiling while holding a metal plate, looking effortlessly pliant. The next photo was a drawn-in picture of him and his lawyer, Veronica Langford. She was in his arms, celebrating a win of one of their many cases together.

"With the city in civil distress once again, I can't say this will be an easy matter for the police to handle. We will have a lot of dark days ahead of Seoul as organize crime surges. Perhaps these officers will provide solace to these citizens and bring to justice whoever did these heinous crimes. We pray they will capture the mastermind who concocted this whole plan because I don't believe it was Mr. Bantuera."

I couldn't stomach to finish the coffee I hadn't even started when the broadcast suddenly cut to breaking news.

The Congressman was live in the town hall.

He was surrounded by his entourage, looking crisp and confident as he approached the podium with steady hands and a grim look on his face though I read right through it. Not surprisingly enough, my mother was at his right hand, her navy blue dress matching his tie that was pinned and neatly pressed against his shirt.

Cameras flashed haphazardly and there was a roar of reporters shoving microphones and notebooks. Spectators brimmed with curiosity and strict reliance on this man who held one hand and silenced them all.

He possessed power already, his darkness flooding into the anxious people of Seoul.

They wanted a leader and sadly, they were getting one whether he was good or not. Dol knew this and these people played right into his hands. When the city erupted in chaos, he just capitalized on it. Everybody there was just too dumb to realize it.

"Good morning. I wanted to start by wishing all of the victims a part of the massacre from last night all the best and a speedy recovery. Secondly, I wanted to mention as your Congress-elect that what occurred last evening was something grown from the roots of hatred. To torch the city and set mass panic amongst people is terrible if wicked. I promise you, my team and I will do our best to work with the police in full cooperation to bring the madman who constructed this plan back to fruition."

It was bullshit but everyone bought it.

I scoffed.

"Lastly, I want to apologize to Park Jimin," Suddenly, Dol looked straight into the camera. It was like he was staring at me, like saw me, "You were a man who had great glory in Seoul and though the way you may have obtained that power may have been unjust and unlawful, trust when I say this: nobody deserves an attack on their organizations and businesses they've built from the ground up."

He leaned in closer and I thought I saw a smirk:

"Which is why I'm asking to come home and out of hiding. We can only find these criminals with your help. Let us know where you are, let me know, and I promise I will help you and your family get justice for the atrocities done to you. Come home."

His eyes lingered for quite too long before he wrapped his speech up with more sentiments that didn't really matter. His threat of coming home made my skin crawl and even as he departed from the stage, I still felt his presence. Dol wanted us to come home so he could kill us. Annihilating the places that Jimin cared for the most wasn't enough. I wondered what was next.

"He's upstairs...the man that was on tv," The concierge muttered.

My gaze moved his and I found myself having to do damage control as slow realization become apparent on his face the longer he looked at me.

"It's not what you think," I said.

"You're on the run," He said with certainty. He closed his magazine and became engrossed in me, "You're evading the police. That man you were with is. The government is looking for him!"

"He's not what the news makes of him especially not the Congressman and we're not on the run, we're just," I rummaged my pocket for a cigarette, "We're just on a vacation."

"While his businesses burn down?"

"Listen to me," I growled, "You can't tell anybody we're here. Not the police, not your friends, no one. If they find out, we're fucked, and right now, we're not ready to handle the noise, not when the city is like that. You have to trust me."

The concierge laughed sardonically and reached for his cell in his pocket. He gave me a look of displeasure as he nosily clanked on the buttons. Before he hit call though, he stopped and looked at me.

"Why should I trust you? That's the future up there," He pointed to a blurry image of Dol still on the screen, "If I give you away, he could help me, help this town. He could make this place less pitiful to live in."

I shook my head.

"I promise you, he won't," I told him earnestly, "He'll drain every last bit of money that still keeps this area alive and he'll do it with a smile on his face. He's not as good as you think he is or how he's fooled everyone into believing so."

The concierge mulled over my response before pointing a finger in my direction, "You've seemed to experience him first hand," He paused, "When you came in last night...Did he—Did he do that to you?" He nodded towards the scar on my arm and the cuts on my face.

"Jimin looks much worse," I mumbled though the concierge was still reluctant to believe me until he heard my pleading, "I'll give you everything I have. You name your price and I'll pay it. Just please, I need time to figure some shit out and then we'll never bother you again."

He stared at me and then back at the screen.

His lips pursed and his eyebrows rose in wonder. He leaned onto the counter, closer to me like he was inspecting me, trying to align some dots together. He seemed to get it then.

"That woman beside him...you look a lot like her."

I needed him to believe me or least have some faith that my words were sincere as I told him, "She's my mom," I lit my cigarette, "And before you say anything, I did try to help her.  Sometimes helping people who don't wanna be helped can only get you so far and she pushed herself straight up his ass. He's not a good guy and I'm starting to believe neither is she."

"My mother is like that too," He agreed, "She's always been blind. It's like she likes to keep her shades on. When the truth is too hard to deal with, she runs which is why I'm stuck running this place," He motioned to the motel and its peeling paint and grimy floors.

Suddenly, he sighed and put his phone away, "Fine. I won't tell anybody you're here but I suggest you lay low. I also want fifty extra per payment. If hanging with you guys might get me killed, I at least want to be prodigal on my last days of living. You can," he cleared his throat and placed his hand on his heart as if doing a scouts honor thing, "Trust me. I promise I'm not a crook or anything."

"I'll take your word for it," I said.

I cleaned off the counter and gathered the coffees in my hand before walking to the door. He stopped me when I was almost out and said, "I hope everything works out for you and if the Congressman really is that bad, I hope you take him down too."

I nodded in appreciation.

When I came back to the room, Jimin was awake.

He was still naked and severely disoriented, hands scrubbing exhaustion away from his eyes. He heard the door and he looked at me, something appearing on his face that I couldn't decipher. He pulled at the sheets when I leaned against the door and he watched me for a moment.

"You gotta stop doing that," He rasped, fingers running briskly through his hair.

"What?"

"Leaving when I'm asleep. It's like every time I reach for you, you aren't there," He sighed, "It makes me nervous."

His eyes were warm with emotion, teeth gnawing at his lip the longer he tried to process what I was feeling. He swallowed and winced quietly when he pulled at his shoulder the wrong way. I moved off the door and set the coffee down. He swung his feet off the bed knowing what I was after, leaning down so I could inspect his wound.

I peeled the bandaid away from his skin as he grasped my hips when I wasn't close enough to his liking. I gasped and tensed. I didn't realize I was pulling away from him until I tripped over my own feet. He caught me and kept me upright. His gaze met mine and he let me go gently.

"Do you regret it?" His voice was quiet, bordering on insecurity.

"No," I said.

It was the truth; I didn't regret the sex, it was just a lot to handle first thing. Everything was so open and in the air now that I didn't know how to react, didn't know how to feel. He made me nervous now, much more nervous than before, and I couldn't trust myself or my thoughts when he touched me. It was a knee-jerk reaction, something I had to let go of.

"You're different," He noted, "Closed off. It's like you're scared of me," His breath hitched when his hands ran down my arms, and felt my body rock away from him. I didn't say anything and just treated his wound, making sure the stitches were still tight.

I tried to move away afterward but he grabbed my hand and stood up. Somehow I found myself backed up and pinned against the dresser, his sheer nakedness making my throat run dry. I looked away, uncomfortable, and cleared my throat.

"What's up?" He ducked his head to see my eyes, "Hm? What happened?" The pad of his finger lifted my chin. His eyebrow rose when I sighed deeply and shook my head.

"Nothing."

"You said that last night but it wasn't nothing. Something's bothering you, isn't it? I know you," He threaded his hands through my hair, curled them behind my ears, and then cupped my chin.

His thumb rubbed circles there and he smiled, "You scratch your eyebrow when your nervous or when you're thinking about something bad. You twirl your hair when annoyed beyond belief. Your eyes crinkle tight when you laugh and you always scratch your nose after because it gets itchy when you chuckle. You bite your lip a lot especially when you're thinking of me and that's how whatever you're thinking in that wonderful brain of yours," He tapped my temple, "Has to do with me."

He rested his forehead on mine.

"So what's up, Sunshine?"

I hated the way the corners of his mouth rose to uplift mine. I hated the way his fingers smoothened over the tresses of worry and remorse in my face like he was meant to do so. I hated myself for falling for it, falling into his trap.

"Everything's changed. Everything."

"Okay," He said softly, agreeing with me, "Is it because I said I loved you—

"Stop," I said, "Stop saying that. You don't love me. You think you do but you don't. You were caught in the heat of the moment — we both were — and you said something you didn't mean. You don't need to say it again. And can you please put some clothes on?"

I pushed him and scrambled away from the dresser. He scoffed and spotted his trousers, slipping him on before tugging me back to him just as quickly as I left him.

"Do you honestly think I would say something like that? You know me — I don't throw words around lightly especially when it comes to someone I care about," He growled at me, "And if that's your way of pushing me away, you're doing a shit job at it."

I sighed.

"Don't argue with me and just drink your coffee, alright?"

There was a pregnant pause between us but I could feel his eyes on me. They watched as I stripped off my shirt in search of a new one while purposely keeping my front turned away from him. I wasn't ready to face the music despite what we had gone through last night. It hadn't sunk in and the way he was talking made everything feel so permanent.

I was in search of clothing when he stopped me. Literally.

"You haven't said it back," He said.

I froze at the sound of his voice.

It pierced through any rational thought in my brain, through my movements, through my rebuttals. He caught me stupid and silly and at a loss for words. Even his breathing terrified me as he continued quietly but relentlessly.

"Not after I told you, not after we made love, not after I woke up, and not now. You haven't said it," He murmured, "At first I thought you didn't hear me...you know, the passion and the lust can cloud your judgment but now every time I say it...you can't even look at me."

My hands trembled so I balled them up into fists. I prayed he didn't see it. I wanted to be calm but he made it so damn difficult, reading me like an open book he thought I was.

His hands were on me before I even had the chance to scream no. They rested on my shoulders and slid down my bare arms and towards my stomach. My breath hitched when he leaned down, nose brushing against the shell of my ear as he pushed away the unruly curls of my hair. He breathed me in deeply, warmly, and then let it all go.

"You're scared."

"I'm not," I challenged quickly.

"You don't always have to be tough, Y/n," He chastised me, "It's okay to admit you're afraid. I'm terrified too. You're the first person who's ever —," He whispered, cut off by his thoughts. "I'm not gonna push you to say it but I'll keep saying it until you believe me. I love you."

He turned me around and when I refused to meet his eyes, he grasped my chin.

"I don't know about you but it doesn't get any better than this for me," He said softly and brushed my cheek.

He hesitantly tried to move his mouth onto mine but I held back for a second. My chest felt tight and painful and I was nervous he could see the pain contort my face. He pulled me to him then and his lips swallowed my own.

His tongue searched for the words I couldn't bring myself to say. I don't know why I couldn't or maybe I did know why I couldn't speak them into existence. I didn't want to break his heart even more. I was trying to save him the regret and the false hope that I seemed to have weaved together through my actions. Somehow, he still trusted me enough to say the words I wasn't brave enough to let aloud.

He was stronger than I.

I knew that for certain.

"Let's go somewhere," I muttered against his mouth.

"Where?"

"Somewhere quiet where nobody will be since we have all of Seoul looking for you right now."

He pulled away, his expression mirroring one of disbelief, "Wait, what are you talking about?"

I sighed and reached for my new shirt, slipping it on as I explained, "The Congressman went on national television and demanded your presence back in Seoul. Said to come home."

Jimin scoffed and ran his fingers through his hair. His eyebrows pushed together, the skin in between them creasing tenfold as he turned his back to me, thinking.

"Is he fucking serious?" He seethed, the muscles under his skin shifting, "If we come back, he'll just kill us. He tried right before we left. The audacity."

I pressed my lips to his body and wrapped my arms around him. He melted into my touch easily as my cheek rested against him, fingers lightly rubbing at the fingernail marks that adorned his flesh because of me.

"We can't go back, not yet, not if we don't have a plan. We have to lay low."

He turned his head slightly to peer over his shoulder.

"So, where do you suggest?"

The beach.

We were at the beach.

It was kinda funny because it was deserted. We were the only ones there, two strange humans, one holding a bottle of cheap champagne and the other holding plastic cups. We also were wearing heavy jackets to fight off the cold.

The water was crystallized and looked frigid and unwelcoming as we journeyed down the sandy shores and towards the forefront. It made me a bit nervous to approach closer but with Jimin by my side, he put some of my distress at ease. I tucked my head into my hood just as we sprawled out onto the sand.

He popped the cork off the champagne and poured himself and me some. We were day drinking which wasn't necessarily bad but it wasn't that great either. I knew I needed the liquid courage though. Alcohol kinda made everything fade away even if it was just temporary.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

He nodded towards the ocean and the ruffles of the waves. I agreed, "It is."

I drank from my tiny cup and pushed my knees to my chest, shoulder brushing his as I did. The sun waxed so perfectly on the ocean that I wish I could savor the beauty of it. I smiled.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked and nudged me.

"My dad," I answered, "He would've loved this."

"The beach?"

I shook my head, "No the view. Besides being on the job, he was sort of a photographer. He wasn't any good at it really," I chuckled, "And it was more of a hobby but whenever there was something beautiful — like this view for example — he'd capture it and hang it in the foyer of my childhood home."

He looked out at the ocean.

"Do you think about him a lot?"

"More often than not. He was always so diplomatic about everything that I envy that I never got that trait from him. He would know how to handle Dol, my mother. I find myself thinking what he would do all the time," I said, throat burning from the next sip of the champagne.

"Did they love each other?" I turned him as he elaborated, "Your parents I mean."

I shrugged.

"They did. It was sort of a fiery and passionate romance. They met on vacation somewhere warm and danced the night away until the morning. It was very unlike my mother, fornicating with a stranger, but my dad kinda had the effect that made me people lose their minds."

"He was charming," Jimin grinned.

"Very funny too," My smile widened, "He could make anyone laugh. He lit up a whole room. My mom always used to have a stick up her ass but when they married, he changed her. She would laugh so much, she would cry. He loosened her up and made her appreciate everything around her," My eyebrows furrowed as my thoughts blended, "After he died...it all changed."

"Your mom and you?" He poured more champagne, intrigue peaking.

"She hated everything I did or it wasn't good enough for her. She didn't laugh anymore, despised anything she could. The first week after my dad passed, she took down everything that was his in the house, his pictures, his memorabilia, his awards. She packed them away and made me swear to never look at them again. Things weren't the same between us when I grew up, especially when I tried my luck in anything that didn't involve her."

"She didn't like it?"

"She hated that I chose myself," My eyes met his, "God, we argued so terribly this one time. I remember being so furious that I ran away from her. She was abrasive, controlling, and suffocating. I always wondered how my dad put with her for so long."

"Love makes you do crazy things," He muttered.

"You got that right," It was my turn to nudge him, "What about you?"

He sighed.

"Well you already know about my parents but, uhm, after my dad died, you know, Bantuera took me in and he raised me and that's where I met my family. My real family so to speak, the boys. We were all so young and naive and when I got to Bantuera's mansion for the first time, they took me under their wing. They had been there way longer than I. Young, very young."

I nodded.

"They had already endured Silas's wrath, seen the type of man he was but I hadn't. When Silas got me, I thought he'd be different, kinder than my father," He whispered and I could almost picture what he was saying, "The first time he hit me, I'll never forget it," He laughed in disbelief, "He was teaching me how to eat without my hands. I was very far behind how a child should've acted. I didn't know any better. He had a woman come over and teach me how to be etiquette but I had forgotten everything by the end of the night."

I leaned closer to him.

"He was treating me so well those past few days so that's why it caught me by surprise. We were eating dinner together and I was eating like a pig I'll admit, forgot to put the napkin on my lap, used the wrong fork, everything. I remember everybody at the table was staring at me but they didn't say a word, just let me eat like a barbarian. At the end of the night, Silas made me stand in front of all of them in his arms and he smiled at me and wiped the food from my mouth...before he smacked me straight across the face."

I gasped quietly.

"I cut my lip on his ring and he cracked me across the face again and told me to wise up. If I was going to live with him, it was his rules, not my own."

"I'm sorry," I grasped his hand and kissed his knuckles feverishly, "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," He said earnestly, "That's not what's important. After what happened, when everyone had left, and I was still there crying, Namjoon approached me. At first, he chastised me and told me to never get too comfortable with Silas before he helped me to the bathroom and cleaned my lip. He let me cry on him afterward. He promised me he would look after me then. Always."

"He's been with you ever since," I responded and he nodded.

"That's why I'm not worried about going back to Seoul right now. I know that my family is okay and they'll handle everything until we can return. They have my back."

I hummed in agreement but I still wanted more from him. I was enraptured by him.

"Will you tell me more about you?" I asked gently, "It doesn't have to be sad or life-changing, whatever you want. I just want to know."

He inhaled sharply.

"I-I've always had this thought of leaving, of going somewhere. Nowhere in particular but it's plagued my mind a couple of times throughout my life, sort of just abandoning my responsibilities, the choices I've made, everything, and just," He shrugged, "What you said, choose myself."

I was even more curious than before, raising my eyebrow.

He laughed.

"It's reckless, this thing that I do, but, uhm," His eyes flickered to mine shyly and then to the sand, "Sometimes, rare times, when I'm alone in my car, I drive," He paused, clearing his throat, "I drive to see how far I can make it before the world starts chasing after me," He confessed quietly.

He stared towards the miles and miles of ocean. The cornflower blue waves sloshed noisily upon each other and effervescenced into white water that brushed against our shoes. Silence gated us and he shivered though I had a feeling it wasn't from the breeze sifting through the worn fabric of our windbreakers. He was thinking, reminiscing is the better way to put it.

"I've only gotten far enough to Daegu," He angled his body in my direction for a moment, "Even then, I don't suppose that's considered far enough."

It's something in the way he looked at me after he said that.

His eyes were purposeful like he was trying to tell me something though the words were lost to me, still tight on his tongue. The sound of his breathing matched the pace of my heart and I swear I thought he heard it. His knee bumped into mine.

"Why do you try to escape?" I asked.

I sipped from my dixie cup while he mulled over words. He sighed gently, turning to me, "I don't think I'm cut out for this life anymore," He said and I felt my stomach turn, "I've been thinking that for a long time now and things have also changed...ever since I've met you, I've changed. I'm just not sure about anything anymore I guess."

I believed his sincerity. He found no reason to lie to me anymore so how couldn't I? But I couldn't look at him. I felt too guilty. I was changing him based on everything I needed him to be, confusing his heart and screwing with his head even more than before.

He said my name and I didn't hear it and then his hands were on my thigh. I glanced at him and he gave an encouraging smile, trying to lift the corners of my mouth in any way he could. I wasn't focused on that though. I was caught on everything that was just him.

His hair blew against his face and he looked like he walked out of a movie, my Casanova. He was perfect and I knew he was. Nobody could ever be as violently lovely as him. I would never get over the way he touched me and made me feel like the only girl in the world. Was it normal to love someone deeply the way I loved him?

It was strange that the world around me was disrupted into pure chaos but when I looked into his eyes, all I could see was safety and protection. I wasn't afraid of the noise pushing past the empty walls of this forgotten city. I wasn't afraid of Dol or going back to fix the destruction we had ran from, no, I was more afraid of losing that look in his eyes, the smile on his face. I was afraid to be the one to take it away now that I had it.

"But I'm sure about us," He promised, "About you."

He kissed me then.

I could feel the mark he was trying to carve into me through his lips. He claimed me not ruthlessly but passionately. He tasted all I had to give him and took it all in before he pulled away brokenly. His forehead rested upon mine, his eyes closed, breathing slow. I curled into him wanting to hide, using him as a shield for my ever-pressing thoughts.

"What are we going do, Casanova?" I asked quietly.

He pressed his cheek against mine.

"I don't know, baby," He whispered honestly, a tremble in his voice as his fingers skated across my cheeks to cup my chin, "But we'll figure it out together," I couldn't respond as tried to keep the tears at bay because in reality, I knew we weren't on the same team.

"Where are you?" He asked when I grew quiet.

"I'm here," I pushed my head under his chin, "I'm here with you."

There was a pause before he asked, "For how long?"

"For as long as I can," Was the best and most honest answer I could give him without giving away everything. I knew that this bubble we currently were floating around in was eventually going to pop but I just didn't want to admit it out loud, not when everything was already tense.

He seemed to sense my apprehension and curled his arm around me, pulling me closer. His lips were in my messy hair, his eyes narrowed to the shaky waters that reminded me of our relationship before murmuring:

"I'll never let you go, Sweetheart."

-
end of chap.

i've got so many things to do this week but i wanted to give you guys this treat. sorry for the grammar mistakes!! have a good week!! xxx