They never train you with how to handle every emotion. They train you in how to deal with happiness, sadness, grief, sacredness; but not the indescribable. Not the emotions that don't have names, because they are so unique to the situations at hand, ones that you only feel once in your lifetime.

Sat in a ball on the couch, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, body clad in nothing but a pair of cotton underwear and Rooster's shirt he left at her house the other night. The smell of his mahogany cologne still evident on the fabric.

Phoenix had texted her about an hour ago saying that she and Bob were more than alright, the hospital just thought it would be better safe than sorry and keep the two of them overnight. So yes, she felt oh so stupid for worrying so much; it's not that she didn't trust Natasha or Bob, it's not that she didn't trust Maverick for putting the two of them up in the air. It's the fact that that's how her mom died. So given the attachment she had to Natasha, and the growing attachment for Bob, she was quite a mess.

Dakota had received a text from Maverick saying Cyclone kicked him off the mission, and that he was down flying for the Navy from this point forward. Sure her heart hurt for the man, but that wasn't her main reasoning for being in despair tonight.

She had put on one of her comfort movies, (National Lampoon's Vacation) the second after she got out of the shower and threw on the comfiest thing she could think of. Her nose was still runny, eyes still red and puffy, lips swollen, curly hair still damp.

Darkness surrounded her, the bright light from the television being the only thing that illuminated the atmosphere of her lavender scented living room. It's times like these that made the female regret her career choice, the danger of it, the risk. Yet she wouldn't trade any of it for a behind-a-desk job. The early mornings, the rigorous exercises, the mental toughness, the strength.

Her jar of Nutella sat on the coffee table in front of the couch where she was, a spoon placed next to it; after about five spoonful's, Dakota was quite literally scared that her teeth would disintegrate in her mouth.

And although with the weight of this day heavy on her mind and emotions, she hated the way her heart let her thoughts drift along to the topic of the man she hated to admit she loved. It seemed that the past couple of times the two have been together, it was different; his energy, his voice, his kisses, his touch. Even the way his eyes softly gazed upon her when she was in his grasp: like she was the first raindrop after a seven month drought, a monarch butterfly spotted out of season landing on a lilac, the sun itself.

It was only nine o' clock at night, Maverick having let the group of pilots go early that day, thinking that everyone needed a break after that last training sequence. Dakota heard the lock of her front door being fiddled with, then it opening and closing. She will admit her heart pounded at the thought of someone trying the break in- but then remembered that she didn't have a spare key anywhere on her front porch.

She turned her head to see him clad in a hoodie and shorts, dark circles under his eyes, his golden curls tousled, evident that he had been running his fingers through it vigorously. She took him in with her glassy eyes, suddenly feeling the stinging of tears behind them at just the sight of him; plus the thought that he came here to see her.

Yet, she kept her composure, not aware of the fact that he could tell with just one look at her that she had been bawling not only but only an hour prior to his arrival. He made his way towards her spot on the couch slowly, sitting down next to her, hearing her light breaths blow threw her lips as their thighs touched.

Bradley clenched his jaw at the sight of her, the messy, damp curls falling down her shoulders, her puffy face, tear stained cheeks; the fact that his t-shirt covered her torso plus the tops of her thighs. He felt his heart clench in sympathy for the girl, how she bit her lip slightly.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay," he said quietly, a small rasp evident in his voice. Her breath was shaky, tears pooling like a tsunami behind her eyes, waterline quickly flooding with them. He swallowed harshly, "Mav said the hospital's gonna keep them overnight just in case, yet they're fine. She's fine, Dakota."

Their gazes never broke, both of them feeling a sense of comfort wash over them, "I know," she replied, voice breaking. "It's just a lot y'know?" A single tear fell down her cheek, and boy did she hate the fact that it felt so easy; how she didn't feel ashamed or weakened for crying in front of him. Tear after tear, they poured from her eyes as she broke down next to him. Before he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, left hand hooking underneath her knees as he pulled her shaking frame into his.

Bradley squeezed her closer to him, wanting to shield her from all the hurt in the world she could ever experience. He had never seen her cry, never seen her break down. Maybe a tear or two falling down her cheek when she told him about her mom one night, but nothing like this.

He placed a kiss on her forehead, quietly shushing her as he whispered comforting words into her ear; just letting her cry, knowing she needed to.

"It's just-" she hiccupped, "Just the f-fact that she could've d-" she felt more tears escape her eyes, wetting his shirt as she wept into his chest. "She could've died, Bradley." Her fingers wrapped around his that was placed on her thighs, squeezing it as she talked. "They both could've died."

He felt a singular tear fall down his cheek, dropping into her hair as he place his chin on top of her head, "Shh, I know baby," he muttered, squeezing his eyes shut as he interlaced their fingers, his thumb rubbing along her knuckles. He pulled away from her, connecting their gazes as she sniffled, "But they're okay. Both of them are." His lips in a thin line, his eyes ever so soft as he looked at her vulnerable state, one that she rarely displayed.

A few more tears few down her cheeks, not trusting herself to speak anymore that night. Scared that in her frazzled state, she might say something she would regret. She just focused on the feeling of his body against hers, her mind desperately trying to kill her previous thoughts. Dakota nodded her head weakly, her nose scrunching up every time she sniffled, Bradley thought it was adorable.

She saw his eyes glint down to her swollen lips, his gaze still soft as he leaned in ever so slowly. The air around them freeing, and soft. Nothing except the sheerness of both their emotions flowing delicately. Her heart pounded heavily in her chest, scared that he might hear it due to the only noise happening in the room being the soft voices of the Griswold's from her movie.

Dakota tilted her chin up, feeling his breath fan over her lips, his tongue brushing over her bottom lip as it darted out to wet his.

Their mouths connected, both breathing heavily as his hand left hers and moved up to cup her neck, his thumb resting softly along her jaw. The two moved their lips slowly, bottom lip caught perfectly in between his, his mustache creating the perfect stinging sensation along her upper lip. Her hand moved up to the back of his neck, tangling her fingers in the soft curls on the nape of his neck.

She pulled back, her eyes opening slowly. Bradley's lips held the ghost of a smile, his tanned features seemingly glowing perfectly in the soft glow of the television. His cheeks showing just a tinge of red, making her grin up at him. Her hand trailed from his neck, cupping his cheek, allowing her thumb to trace his scars softly. She pulled his cheek to her lips, placing a chaste, yet loving kiss along each beautifully placed indentation on his skin.

"You're perfect, Bradley Bradshaw." She murmured, their foreheads leaning on each others as she leaned back against the arm of the couch, him following, hovering over her. His eyes full of adoration, his pupils dilated, his heart pounding in his ears. A small smile gracing his lips, their breaths intermingling.

His deep voice spoke quietly, scared to break this fragile moment that hung thickly within the atmosphere, "Need me to do anything Dakota?" Her fingers were still firmly placed in the hair that was at the nape of his neck, her thumb brushing his bottom lip softly. "Just hold me, Bradshaw." She spoke almost inaudibly.

And that he did; he wrapped his arms around her back, legs tangled along the length of the couch. He placed his head on her chest, feeling is rise and fall beneath him, in sync with her breathing. She would place small kisses along the crown of his head as they laid, both of them watching the movie that played on the television.

About thirty minutes later Dakota heard soft snores coming from the man on top of her, and every so often he would shift his body, pulling himself even more flush against her than he was originally. Her heart absolutely soared at this; emotions buzzing like honey bees in her head. The man she quite possibly loved, being this intimate with her.

She knew that there was no way in hell he felt the same way; given how the two of them, just a week ago hated each other's guts. There were prettier girls who lived in North Island, girls who were much more deserving of a man like Bradley Bradshaw than her. She didn't deserve him, either side of him: the hatred side she reciprocated, the loving side that had her mind in shambles. It was all just too much.

Possibly loved.

PAIGE SPEAKS
now, she's shorter than the past chapters have been but i'm really proud of her; the intimacy, the feelings, the dialogue. it's all just perfect 🤌

that's it. she's beautiful.