Songs:

And I'm Here (Goblin OST) - Kim Kyung Hee

Halo - Beyoncé

*

I switched off the TV, setting down the remote. I found myself tip toeing to Mason's room, just a little further away from mine. The groans hadn't stopped.

I'd never been in, but when I checked, the door wasn't locked. I swallowed, stepping in.

Mason lay there, amongst the white sheets, his bare chest exposed.

He was writhing, as though he was in physical pain. But his eyes were closed.

I strode to his side without second thought.

He was having a nightmare. A terrible one - by the looks of it. Beads of perspiration had formed on his forehead, matting that dark brown hair that so often framed his brows.

His body shook again as he rasped a labored breath. "NO!" he pleaded, his voice raw, "NO."

A knot formed in my throat. I couldn't stay away -not now. I reached out to touch his brow, his body heat surging through my fingertips. I sat on the edge of his bed, lowering my face to his strained features.

He looked... soft. Vulnerable.

"Mason," I whispered, "Mason you're okay. I'm here. You're okay."

His body seemed to calm down fractionally. I kept whispering variations of words I didn't know I had, when a sudden tremor shot through him.

"Mason, wake up," I said, "Mason."

He reeled awake at the sound, and he blinked up at me with those dark brown eyes, the slats of pale moonlight from the window catching his face at endearing angles.

A fallen angel. I reminded myself. He looked the angel part, this time, with his eyes full of a rare innocence and his chestnut hair plastered to his forehead. His full lips were slightly open as he frantically gasped for air.

And before I knew it, he lurched into my arms. His feverish skin was like molten fire under my palms, his pine scent enveloping me. He tucked his face in the crook of my shoulder and inhaled, and I felt his heartbeat slow under my hands.

He was hugging me.

I smoothed out the initial tension that had come with his embrace, dissolving into his touch. His hand sneaked to the crown of my head as he fisted my hair, his other secured firmly around my lower back.

"Ever," he hummed, against my skin, after what felt like an eternity.

And his voice was so raw, so pure, so void of that usual snark, that I moved a hand to the nape of his neck in a feeble attempt to comfort him from whatever could scare someone like him. His pulse quickened.

I didn't know how long we stayed like that. I lost track of time.

But somehow it was more than just the hard ridges of his stomach against my front. With his body so close to mine and our heartbeats syncing, my own delved into a temporary paralysis. If it weren't so dark, he might have gotten a hint of my scarlet cheeks.

"You pulled me out," he mumbled quietly, his strong arms still around me, "You pulled me out of there."

I nodded against the smooth skin of his shoulder. "I did."

"It was Hell." His voice broke.

My eyes burned. I didn't know what he was talking about. His nightmare had not been real, but his pain -his pain was very, very real.

And it was splayed across his features when he looked at me though those dark eyes. A beam of light hit his hair, creating a sort of halo.

"Well you survived it," I reminded him, "All of it."

His Adam's apple bobbed as he realized our proximity. His eyes sweeped over my figure, still perched on the side of his bed with my shorts and tank top. I suddenly felt too exposed to be in front of him.

I rose to my feet. "Good night, Mason."

I turned to walk away, but a soft touch on my wrist stopped me.

"Don't go," he breathed.

He stared at me with those eyes that seemed to dig right through to the deepest parts of me, the parts I'd long buried.

"I have to," I whispered.

"Have to or want to?"

I didn't answer him. I was at the door when I heard him mumble, "I don't want to be alone."

Goddammit. That word.

Alone.

I knew it so well. Me and that word were well acquainted. I'd so often be surrounded by a crowd of people but still feel it tearing at me with ravenous hunger.

Alone.

It was the word that had me reeling back, the word that had me promising myself that it would be platonic, that it was what I'd do for a friend.

Mason's smile was small, but even in the dark I made it out.

"I won't touch you, blondie," he said, "I promise."

I sighed, giving in.

It was then that I made up my mind.

Mason was not a bad guy. Bad things had happened to him. Although he seemed to be very fond of pretending that it was his narrative, he wasn't bad. He was far from it.

I edged closer to the bed, mounting the side opposite his. He took the left side. His sheets smelled of him, of that foreign pine and cinnamon, and somehow, despite not being able to fall asleep with my best efforts, the mere scent of him lulled me to sleep.

*

I woke up sprawled over a warm body. Mason's soft, caramel skin, his Aztec sun tattoo inked right under my fingertips.

I flung away from him instantly, the heat from his touch dissipating.

"I didn't touch you, I swear," he said, his voice raspy, "You flung yourself across me and refused to let go."

I scowled. I had a lousy habit of hugging a pillow when I slept. Somehow in my unconscious state, my body had mistaken Mason's warm body for a pillow instead.

But he'd made it seemed like I was oh-so-ready to jump into his bed. Which was the furthest from the truth. My cheeks flamed.

I had just slept in a stranger's bed. After all, that was what he was-a stranger. At best an acquaintance. The very thought brought a frown to my face. Why had I agreed so... so quickly? What was wrong with me?

"Blondie-"

"I have to go," I muttered.

After showering, I changed and left, not waiting for Mason.

I should not have been so easily manipulated by his words.

I should not have cared.

But I was. I did. And it frustrated me. Unhinged me. Made me feel more susceptible than I already was.

College went by fast. I immersed myself fully in the class, the numbers giving me a comforting tangibility. They made me feel secure. After it finished, I walked to Aletta for my shift.

When I was overly quiet, Rhia asked me what was wrong.

"Nothing," I responded. She didn't believe me, but she didn't push the topic any further.

She'd adjusted my schedule to fit in college, and my shifts at the restaurant were much more digestible. I was more thankful than I appeared.

When 5 o' clock came around, I remembered that I needed to get the record books from the auto repair.

"I'm going to Charley's to pick up something," I said to Rhia, "Want to come?"

She nodded after short deliberation. "Yeah, sure," she said.

We caught a cab. Rhia was amazing at the whole "hailing a cab" thing. If I'd have tried I would have indefinitely failed. I was still getting used to this place.

It would take time.

In a few minutes, we reached the now familiar black and orange logo that read CHARLEY'S. I led Rhia in.

A few guys were working, and they turned their heads. When they saw me, they avoided my gaze. Strange.

Mason wasn't here. Good.

Logan, however, was, and he walked over to me with that sensual smile of his. I cut straight to the chase.

"I'm supposed to be sorting out some record books?"

Logan nodded. "Mason did tell me. Check at the far end on the table. You'll find the record books for each month."

I walked over to where he pointed out, Rhia following. She turned to give Logan a once-over, before looking back at me.

"Whoa," Rhia said, clearing her throat as she faced me, "it's not even close to what I imagined. It's pretty neat."

Thanks to Mason, I almost added. The guy was ultra-organised and kept his things at an insane level of neat.

I stared at the grime-covered pages filled with records I was meant to be sorting out. Some of the writing was illegible.

You didn't have to be good at Math to add up these numbers. You just had to be really good at reading crappy handwriting.

I turned the page.

It was different. The handwriting was clear and concise. Neat. It had Mason's name written all over it. Not literally, of course.

I smiled a little.

Suddenly, there was a loud crash followed by a scream. I turned around in a split second, scanning the area only to find Rhia stuck in a large storage box.

"Who leaves stupid wheels lying around, anyway?!"

Before I could reach her to help, Logan stepped in.

He held out a hand for her, with that signature grin on his face.

"May I?" he asked.

Oh no.

"I don't know," Rhia muttered, climbing out of the box like it was a grave, and she was some sort of zombie-queen, "I don't freaking know, may you?"

Logan retracted his hand, startled and amused at the same time. He didn't take his eyes off her as she dusted something off her denim jacket.

Then, she unzipped her bag and whipped out a single baby wipe. "But you may wipe your hands before you try to touch me with them."

Logan caught the baby wipe she threw at him with a reckless abandon.

I widened my eyes. What the heck was going on?

Logan needed to stop smirking before Rhia full on attacked him.

I reached them before all hell broke loose. I tried to send a message to Logan to shut his mouth, but it was too late.

"Forget to take your calm meds today, fresa?" he quipped.

I slapped my forehead.

"What?" Rhia burst, "Calm me-oh." She chuckled. "Oh no you did not."

"Logan-" I started.

"Oh yes, I did."

"Shut your smart mouth, mister," she yelled, "before I shut it for you. And what the hell is a fresa?"

"Shut it...for me?" His smirk was feline.

I didn't think Rhia understood what Logan was implying in her frenzy. I thanked my lucky stars, because if she did, I doubted Charley's would remain intact.

"Answer my question," she grit out.

Logan didn't say a word. Deliberately. He was enjoying every second of... whatever this was.

"Rhia," I intervened, "hush. Let's g-"

She held up a hand. "One second, Ever. Twinkle toes over here hasn't answered my question yet."

Logan tilted his head, his eyes not leaving Rhia. "Strawberry," he said, quietly, "It means strawberry."

The room had gone still. Rhia visibly calmed down, her gaze dropping. She was about to apologise, I saw it, and I knew her well enough.

But Logan wasn't done.

"It's also slang for rich spoiled girl," he said, winking.

My eyes widened, and I grabbed Rhia's hand, dragging her out before she could go all Game of Thrones on Logan's ass.

*

I watched Rhia like a hawk from the other side of the table we were sitting at. We stopped at a coffee shop that branched out onto the street, the smell of coffee too alluring to resist.

"Stop looking at me like that, and eat your donut," I said, pointing at the clear glazed donut I bought to calm her down.

"I can't," she said, sliding the donut to the side, "I'm sorry about that."

"It's okay." I sighed. "What was it about anyway?"

She placed her face into her palms. "I was in a bad mood already, and that stupid fall made it worse. And then he had to come there and-"

"He was only trying to help, you know," I said, "He's not a bad guy. From what I've seen."

Rhia stared at me flatly. "He looks like my ex."

Oh. I gave her a pitiful look.
"But ten times better," she added.

I cringed. "That's...Wow. I don't know what to say."

"And I almost felt bad, but then he had to go and call me a...rich spoiled girl."

"I guess you can call it even, then," I replied.

"I'm going to eat my donut now," she said, slowly reaching for the sweet round treat again.

"Go ahead." I'd eaten mine a long time ago.

"How do you eat so fast?" she mumbled while chewing.

I shrugged. "I don't know. Strong jaws, fast metabolism. Whatever."

"You're still my friend after that tantrum I just threw?" she checked.

I stared back at her. "If I wasn't, I wouldn't have bought you that donut."

She smiled. "Love you, Ever."

I chuckled. "Yeah, yeah."

She took another bite of her donut. Donuts were round. Round. Round ball. Ball.

"Shit!" I thought out loud.

"What?"

"Caleb invited me to a charity ball. It's in two days and I haven't even gotten a dress yet!"

"Why'd you leave it so late?"

"He only told me recently, plus, with school and work and someone trashing my apartment, I haven't really had much time."

"I wish I could come with you, but I'm flying to LA tomorrow."

I stared at her. "And you're only telling me this now?"

She shrugged an apology. "Sorry. I've known about it for a year now so it was old news for me. My sister's getting married."

I sighed. "Well, have fun without me."

"I'm leaving you in charge of the restaurant in my absence. Dad will obviously be leaving with me as well."

I widened my eyes.

"Don't worry," she said, "I'll only be gone for a week."

What? "A week?"

"Yeah," she said, nodding. "Indian weddings have rituals that span over three or four days, and we're going early to make sure the venue and decor is fine. My sister's a big drama queen."

I sighed.

"You'll be fine," she assured me, "I've asked someone else to open and close up. You just do your normal shift and make sure nothing burns down while I'm gone."

I exhaled. I hoped for my sake that she was right.

yuenwrites