I open my eyes feeling awfully warm. I try to kick my blanket off but my legs are tangled with something, unable to move. I glance around to realize that Jack is laying next to me. One arm is under my head, the other wrapped around my waist. Our legs are entangled together, my face is pressed to his neck, my hands resting on his chest.

I feel my face start to turn pink at how close we are, at how our bodies are pressed up against each other. I try to wriggle free but he just mumbles something and tightens his arms, pulling me even closer then before. I slowly reach up and start to nudge him, trying to wake him.

He doesn't wake up after a minute so I start to shake him. "Jaaack, wake up," I whisper. I continue shaking him and calling his man for a few minutes but he doesn't wake up. "Jack!!!" I yell, "wake up!" He sluggishly opens his crystal blue eyes. "Hmm?" He mumbles, locking eyes with me. His eyes are cloudy and unfocused from sleep.

Our faces are close, almost touching. Our breath mingles together. My blush darkens a few shades. "Cecelia," he breathes out. His arms that is around my waist moves, brushing the hair off my face before gently resting on my cheek. His thumb moves, caressing me.

          "Jack?" I say quietly, "what are you-" I'm stopped by him moving so that his body hovers over mine. His legs on either side of mine, one hand still resting on my cheek, the other next to my head. I move on my back so I can see him better.

          Jack's looking at me with an unknown emotion in his eyes, which are a few shades darker then normal, almost like the night in the bathroom, but it's... Different. Lighter, somehow. Not in color, but in nature.

His eyes are like a battle between opposites. Honest lies, moonlit Suns, snowy summers, cold fire, and freezing magma. Living death, ugly beauty, hatful love, abusive hospitality, cruel kindness, numb happiness and strengthening depression. Whispers and yelling, calm fury, and corrupt purity. It's a war between light and dark.

And I'm not sure which side is winning.

Jack looks at me with battles in his eyes, desire on his lips, fear in his chest, arguments in his arms and pleading in his fingers.

          He's looking at me, trying desperately to gain control of himself. From what, I'm not too sure, but I recognize that look in his eye. The clench of the fingers, and lengthened blink. The caught breath and skipped beat as he's tempted.

          I recognize the sudden jerk away as he regains control. I recognize the heavy breathing as he fights to keep that control, to subdue his impulses.

          So I just stay on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, fingers trailing over my cheek where his were a moment ago.

"Sorry," Jack says between breaths. "I don't know what I was thinking."

'You weren't thinking,' I think. 'That was the issue.'

"It's ok," I tell him, sitting up and resting my back against the headboard. Jack nods his head in response, looking unsure and troubled.

"Can I ask you a question?" He asks, a frown pulling the edges of his lips down.

"You just did," I say, giggling lightly, in an oddly giddy mood.

"Well can I ask you another one?" He says, seeming a little impatient, his lips pulling downward even more.

"You just- yeah, you can ask another one," I say, sighing.

"What did you dream about last night?" He whispers, like its some taboo topic. And it kind of is. I flinch at the mention of it. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to," he adds quickly, seeing me flinch, "I'm just curious." And worried.

He looks worried. About me.

"No, no," I begin, shaking my head. "It's alright, I just wasn't expecting it is all," I explain. I take a deep breath, gathering the courage.

Do I tell him? That I dreamed my ex boyfriend wants to kill him? Should I not go into detail at all? Or should I tell him about the past, about the beer buddies, the late nights with no sleep, the bruises and slices, the scabs and cuts, the punches and slaps, the furious yelling and too-calm whispers? Should I tell him about my desperate desire to--

"Cecelia." Jack pulls me out of my thoughts. I lift my head to look at him. "It's ok, you don't have to tell me."

'But you want me to. You're practically begging me to tell you,' I think. 'And I just... I don't want to let you down like I did him.'

"No, I was just thinking. About how to... Word it properly," I say. "It's about my ex," I say hesitantly. Jack's eyebrows raise up at the mention of the word 'ex'. He stays silent, though, letting me talk.

"It was dark, yet airy. Lit up by moonlight and stars. Little fireflies drifting carelessly through the air. Flowers peeking in from the opening and sending me a soft fragrance. It was really peaceful. I moved to take a step, to take in the outside beauty," I begin, semi-wistfully. It had started out so beautiful. "But... It all changed. The fireflies disappeared, the moon and stars were covered by thick clouds, the flowers wilted and a dark presence filled the room. Sucked all the air out, crushing me." I move my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them. "He moved and spoke in my ear and.... I was terrified, Jack. The things he said, they were horrifying," I wimper out, on the verge of tears. "And the memories..."

"Cecelia," Jack says sadly. "What did he say?" He asks as he moves to hug me, pulling me into his chest.

"He said.... He said I was his and that he'd... He said that he would--" I break off in tears, unable to form the words 'kill you'.

"He said he'd do awful things, Jack," I tell him in between sniffles.

"It's ok, Cecelia. You're fine. I'm fine. You're safe here," he whispers reassuringly into my ear, trying to calm me.

I need to tell him about Luke. He deserves to know. And if I don't tell him now, I never will.

"I loved him, Jack. I moved to Ireland so that I could spend more time with him. He was.... He was everything I could ever want, better then anything I could dream of. But he changed. Slowly. A passive aggressive compliment, a hidden glare. But it escalated, got worse. I waited for him to get better, to go back to his old self, but he never did. He started drinking and yelling, and... It was terrifying, Jack," I blurt out before I have a chance to regret it.

"Oh, Cecelia," he whispers sympathetically.
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     Mini cliffhanger? Oops. Sorry if this is a bit shorter then usual, but it's still over 1000 words, which is my goal.
     Next chapter will be them talking. Jack about him and Signe and Cecelia about Luke (obvi, who else would she talk about). I'll try to have it up this weekend.
     School started today :/ it kinda sucked, but could've been worse. How was your guys' first day?
     Sorry if this part is a bit choppy or fast paced, but I'm too tired to edit it. Sorry again for any mistakes or choppiness.
     Please leave some feedback in the comments (Lord knows I need it) and vote of you liked this chapter.
     I'll see you all in the next part. Bye!