Do you ever get that feeling where you can't breathe?

It almost feels like your lungs are constricting, your throat is closing, and although every fiber in your being is fighting for that breath of fresh air you so desperately need, you find yourself stuck, unable to move.

As I sit here, on the end of Mason's motorcycle, that one feeling takes over me. I have nowhere to go, nowhere to hide, no hole to crawl into. The only thing I'm able to do is sit here, and let him take me to the one place I promised myself I would never return to.

I close my eyes, hoping and praying that I'm wrong, but I know that isn't the case. I have the route to this place memorized like the back of my hand. I've been here so many times, and yet I'm unable to contain my sudden anxiety over the thought of returning.

The anxiety in my stomach only grows when I feel the motorcycle slowly come to a stop, and I prepare myself for what's about to come. I take a deep breath, trying to suck in as much air as I possibly can before steadily exhaling.

And then I open my eyes.

My vision takes a few seconds to adjust since I was clenching them closed so tightly, but when they do I suddenly start to feel sick.

It's exactly like I remembered it.

The grass fields remain vibrantly green, filled with flowers surrounded by tall shaggy trees. I take in everything in front of me, swallowing the rising lump in my throat.

I let go of my grip on Mason, holding onto his shoulder to steady myself as I swing my leg off the seat and come to stand right beside him. Without thinking, I take a few steps, my eyes looking straight ahead from us.

And then I see it.

My breath hitches in my throat from it standing intact in front of me. I always imagined that over the years it would have deteriorated overtime, with no one able to look out for it anymore.

But I was wrong, it almost looks exactly how it did the last time I saw it.

"Mason... Why did you bring me here?" I ask him, my voice wavering, filled with angst.

He walks in front of me, shooting me a reassuring smile, "You'll see. Come on."

I look at him, hoping he'll see right through me and understand that this is the last place I want to be. I open my mouth to try and tell him that I can't but nothing comes out, no matter how hard I try I'm unable to even get a word out.

He looks at me, the corners of his lips dipping down as he darts his eyes over my face. A few seconds pass until I see him extend his hand out for me to take. I look at it, and back up at him as he waits for me to accept his sweet gesture.

"It's alright, Isabelle. I'm here now."

And just like that, his words melt almost all of my overbearing thoughts away.

He's here now.

I reach over slowly until my hand clasps onto his, and within an instant I feel him intertwine our fingers together before he leads me straight over to our childhood treehouse.

My father built it for us when I was in fourth grade. It took nearly all summer to finish it. We would spend most of the day out here, hauling wood over to him and trying to make it seem like we were helping, when in reality I'm sure we just prolonged the process.

Jessica, Mason, Natalie, Sofia and I would be here almost everyday after school. More often than not though, it would always end up being only Jessica, Mason and I. So many memories flood my mind as we walk towards our forsaken treehouse, and if it weren't for Mason's hand on mine I swear I would have thrown up by now.

When Mason left, I knew I was never coming back to this place. The thought of even being there without him was too difficult for me to bear. There were so many reminders of everything I thought we were building together, but it all ended up vanishing out of nowhere.

And when my father died, I promised myself I would never come back. When he built this for us, we managed to shape an irreplaceable bond. I'm almost positive that Nora came up with the idea only so the two of us could become closer.

And we did.

And when I lost Mason, and both my parents, it was all just too much.

This became the one thing in my life that was an unforgettable reminder of everything I have lost.

Once we reach the worn out wooden stairs, Mason's tall body steps in front of me.

"I'll go first, I don't know how sturdy shit this is yet."

He untangles his hand from mind and I watch as he places a foot on the wooden step, putting a bit of his weight on it at first, before lifting his other foot and placing it on top of the next. When he gets halfway up, he turns around and extends his arm out again for me to grab his hand.

I hesitantly do so, slowly making my way further up into the tree until we reach the very top. Mason grasps onto the door handle and I feel my grip on his other hand tighten as he turns it and pushes it open.

He steps inside and I follow behind him, taking everything around me in. There are numerous empty beer bottles scattered all over the floor, as well as multiple cigarette butts and as my eyes roam over everything I almost swear I see a used condom in the corner.

But other than that, it's exactly how it was three years ago.

There's our old pictures and random drawings hung on the wall, the small bookshelf in the corner filled with our old yearbooks and boxed games.

It reminds so much of my childhood; before everything was taken away from me too soon.

"Isabelle, what's wrong?" Mason asks me, concerned laced in his voice.

I look over at him to find his eyebrows knitted together, eyes scanning my face as he traces mindless patterns against the back of my hand with his thumb, pulling me closer to him.

I didn't even realize that a few tears had fallen down my cheeks.

He lifts his free hand up and slowly wipes away my tears, making sure to get every one that fell and as the palm of his hand touches my skin, it takes everything in me not to lean into it.

"I haven't been here since Christmas Eve, three years ago."

The last day I saw him.

I half expect him to freeze up, or put his wall back up over me mentioning the last time we saw each other. I now realize that we haven't talked about it at all. Even though we've seen each other plenty of times throughout the summer so far, both of us have failed to mention our pasts.

But then his eyes bore into mine, the troubled emotion that always ingrains itself onto his face flashes in his eyes. His gaze trails a lazy path down my face, thumb sweeping slowly across my cheek.

"Me too." He says to me, before dropping his hand back to his sides.

The imprint of his hand on my skin lingers for a few moments as I stare at him blankly. He was here?

"I came in the morning." He goes on, "Sometimes I would come here by myself and just... think."

I understand that completely.

It hits me that being here might feel a bit nostalgic for Mason as well. So much has happened since our time playing Connect 4 on the floor in our tree house. Too much to comprehend.

He runs his hand through his hair, letting out a heavy sigh, "I shouldn't have brought you here Elle-"

"No, no," I interject.

As much as being here makes me want to cry my eyes out, a part of me is happy he did. I never would have come back here if he wasn't the one to take me. I needed to overcome my fear of coming face to face with what I've lost, and start trying to count all the things I've managed to gain during that time as well.

"I needed this," I say to him, "I was always afraid of coming back here, but there's nothing to be afraid of anymore." He looks at me and for a second I start to wonder if I'm making any sense at all. "You know what I mean?"

His eyes look into mine, studying me in silence for a moment. There's something hidden behind his assessing gaze of me, but the longer his piercing emerald green eyes connect with mine, the more I'm able to realize the truth behind my own words.

"I'm starting to."

❀

We spend the next hour or so rummaging through everything clean enough to get our hands on. I never really thought about how many people could have snuck up here over the years. But thankfully, everything I cared the most about remained intact.

It felt weird sorting through our things and reminiscing about old memories with Mason. Rereading our old yearbook notes to each other, cringing at everything down to our old yearbook photos to our childlike handwriting.

I thought the first time I'd ever come back here I'd end up facing a substantial amount of disappointment. But now that I'm here, all I feel is grateful that I still have these memories to begin with.

I throw my head back in laughter as Mason holds up a picture of him lying down in a hospital bed with a newly placed cast on his arm. Mason shakes his head, trying to hold back a smile as more laughs pour out of me.

"How the fuck do you manage to fall out of a tree house, twice?" I ask him, trying to steady my breath and all he does is let out a heavy sigh, turning his head towards me and shrugs.

"You already know the story." He says to me, and I bite down on my lip to keep from laughing.

"I swear the second time you fell, I thought you were dead. You're lucky all you did was break your arm."

"You're lucky I didn't drag you down with me." I narrow my eyes at him and he continues, "You left your stupid fucking doll by the door knowing I was about to leave."

"I did not." I argue.

"You did, you were mad at me remember? I made fun of your crooked pigtails so you decided to plant your doll by the door, making me trip and fall off the fucking treehouse."

I can't help but laugh, "I did not."

He looks at me, shooting me a glare, "You did."

He doesn't take his stern gaze off me, and I can already feel myself wanting to back down. I bite down harder on my bottom lip, trying to hold everything in me and I almost give up when Mason takes a threatening step toward me.

"Admit it." I can feel the warmth coming off of him as he takes another step closer to me, making my back hit the wall.

"No." He leans in a bit closer to me, his breath fanning the tip of my nose and I have to remind myself not to give in.

My amusement from this is overshadowed by the hint of arousal I feel from how close he is to me. I'm positive the challenge in his tone is meant for me to lower my guard and give him the answer he truly desires, but it only makes me want to tease him even more.

I force myself up a little, brushing my nose against his and a small smile appears on his lips. My body is screaming for me to bring him closer to me and let him devour me, ravage me in any way he wants to. He positions his hands against the wall on both sides of me, and leans in further down, close enough to where our chests finally touch and I feel his lips lightly brush against the shell of my ear.

"Admit it."

"No," I taunt breathlessly.

A low laugh tumbles past his lips as he arches down to nuzzle his face against the side of my neck. His bristled stubble drags over my skin and I let out an involuntary whimper as he flutters his lips over my uneven pulse. I can't help but push myself closer against him, everything about the man is so incredibly inviting to me it's hard for me to control myself around him.

"Say it." He whispers into my ear before taking his head out of the crook of my neck and placing his forehead gently against mine.

"Or what?"

His gaze flicks down to me lips and he murmurs, "Or maybe I might kiss you."

My breath hitches from his words. There's no words to describe how badly I want him to, how much I'm craving to touch him, kiss him, feel him. Even the thought of it drives me insane.

But I can't.

"You can't." I struggle to get out as he reaches his hand over to me and gently smooths his thumb across my lips.

"Say it or I will." He threatens, bringing his hand down to grab my chin.

Don't think just do it.

Do it do it do it do it

His fingers brush against my skin as he gently lifts my chin up. For a moment he just stands there, looking at me and waiting for me to back down. And then he slowly leans into me at a teasing pace, his lips brush against mine and if I wait any longer it'll only take seconds for him to close the gap between us.

His bottom lip swiftly brushes against my own, sending a wave of electricity through me. He looks into my eyes one more time, before flicking his gaze back to my lips.

1...2...

"I did it." I breathe against him, just as he was about to do it.

And I look up at him, seeing his lips curve into a smile, "I fucking knew it."

A laugh escapes my lips and he releases me, suddenly making me feel cold. I give myself time to catch my breath as he backs away.

"I fucking knew you put your doll there."

"I didn't know you'd fall off the tree house." I laugh and he looks at me questionably.

"What did you expect was going to happen?"

"I don't know, I was ten, I wasn't really expecting anything to happen." I tell him, and he continues to shake his head at me over how crazy I sound.

I guess I really do sound crazy though, he teased me and because of that I thought he deserved to fall off a fucking tree house.

"How did you not hate me after that?" I ask him, when my laughs die down and he his green eyes connect with mine.

"I could never hate you, Isabelle."

I feel my heart pitter pattering in my chest, and before I enact on the re-emerging thought of me kissing him, I tear my eyes away from him.

And then my stomach drops.

Oh, fuck.

Mason notices my change in expression and attempts to follow my gaze, he turns around to try and see what I just saw but I grab a hold of his hand and bring him back toward me.

"See if you can find any bad pictures of me in that pile." I say to him, motiong my head towards the stack of pictures beside us.

"I'm sure it won't be too hard." He lightly jokes and I nudge his arm playfully, shaking my head at his words.

When he returns his focus back onto the pictures, I walk past him, trying to not make it painfully obvious that I'm trying to move quickly so he doesn't see me. When I get to the other wall that was ahead of us, I look around and grab the closest drawing that was hung on the wall beside me and pull it off.

I use the drawing to cover the message I stupidly engraved on the wall years ago. Just as I place the paper over it, I let out a sigh of relief. This treehouse has more memories than I had originally thought.

I turn around on my heel, attempting to walk back over to Mason but instead I collide with his hard chest.

Fuck.

I rub my forehead, easing the minor pain surfacing from bumping into him so abruptly. My heart starts hammering in my chest over the possibility that Mason just saw what I had done.

I knew he would eventually see if he didn't decide to leave town right after I did it, but I didn't expect to be here with him while he did so.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing." I answer quickly.

His entrancing eyes give me a once over as he takes another step toward me. Fuck, why are we here again? It's almost as if he knows exactly what his body being so close to mine does to me.

I feel nervous as I watch him shake his head, making a tsk noise with his tongue. I flick my eyes up to see him watching me, studying me with no emotion in his face whatsoever.

"What are you hiding from me?"

"I-I'm not hiding anything." I tell him, pressing my back against the wall to try and cover up exactly what I'm trying to hide.

There's a long pause as he studies me deeper, and my heart swells in my chest, contrasting all the nerves I feel when he lifts his fingers to tuck my hair behind my ears, resting his hand against my face as he leans down and nudges his nose against mine.

"Mmm, why can't I kiss you?"

Once again, he makes my entire body feel weak, almost melting in his arms. I thought I learned how to handle this teasing behavior of his, that somehow I could counter it, maybe give him a taste of his own medicine for a change.

But everytime he touches me like this I feel paralyzed; lost in the moment and within an instant all I want is him.

But I'm scared.

"Because I'm still mad at you." I try to say as best as I can while his whole body cages mine against the wall exactly as it did before.

His breath trickles against my lips, "You don't seem mad at me." My breathing shallows and I bite down on my lip to keep any involuntary moans in. "Tell me the real reason."

Before I can second guess myself out of it, I inhale a sharp breath and do as he says.

"Maybe I'm just tired of being hurt by you."

I lean my forehead back and look at him, the soft look in his features that were there before are gone. It's like day and night with him, his emotions can change in a flash and I hope my honesty doesn't discourage him in any way- it's just the truth.

He brings his hand down once again lifting my chin up to meet his gaze.

"You didn't accept my apology?"

I sigh, "It's not that easy, Mason."

His eyebrows tighten together, and I feel his shoulders deflate against me. It doesn't take long for me to see the self doubt written all over his face, and all I'm able to do is watch him as my pulse picks up from his body being pressed against mine.

"I know it might not seem like it, but I'm trying." He whispers to me, his forehead resting against my own, "I'm trying so hard, baby."

My heart beats so fast I feel like it might give out on me. There are so many temptations, so many urges and desires to feel his lips on mine again.

"Let me kiss you." He pleads, making my insides plummet to the floor.

"Mason..." I whine breathlessly, because that's all I'm able to muster out of me at the moment.

"Just a taste."

My insides are trembling with anxiety, nervousness and so much excitement all at once and it's taking everything in me to try and keep myself together. I gulp down the thickening saliva in my mouth as his head tilts sideways as he slowly but surely leans into me.

I feel his strong arm snake around me as he does so, and this time I don't feel anything but ready for what's to come.

Just as his lips faintly brush against mine, he uses the arm snaked around me to move my body over from blocking the wall.

And when my back peels off the wooden wall behind me, exposing what I was trying to hide, my mouth drops in shock when he leans in closer to my ear and whispers, "Gotcha."

Anger boils inside me but is quickly replaced with panic when I realize that in a couple seconds Mason will see the one thing in here I never wanted him to. He lifts his arm up, fingers grasping the sides of the drawing.

"No, Mason, I-" He takes it off, the picture falling to the floor before his eyes trail up the wall.

And there it is, the I+M engraved in the wall right in the center of a lopsided heart I drew years ago.

Jessica made me do it before her Christmas party to 'speak it into existence' or some shit. She even handed me the pocket knife herself, encouraging me to try and make the most out of what I could at the time.

But now that I'm standing here, actually seeing Mason's reaction of it in front of me, I feel stupid for even thinking that that could have happened.

The longer Mason stays quiet, the more I feel my throat start to close up. I try to focus on anything other than the fact that my nerves feel as though they are on fire. My heart sinks even further as his body stills and his face remains emotionless.

He reaches over, his fingers tracing along the lettering in the wall and I fiddle with my fingers staring at him apprehensively as he does so.

Then he looks at me, eyebrows knitted as he glances over my body slowly. He looks at my face, blinking a few times before he pulls me toward him by my wrists. I look at him confused, not expecting him to immediately pounce on me, but grow relieved over how quickly it calms my nerves.

I rest my hands against his chest to try and balance myself as both his arms snake around my waist, pulling me closer to him.

"You liked me." He says, a cheeky boyish smile playing on his lips giving me goosebumps all over my entire body.

I can feel my cheeks darken a shade or two, "Well, I-I..." I start, but am too embarrassed to finish.

I press my lips together trying to fight my own grin as his arms tighten around my waist, pressing his strong chest against my own. His smile only grows from my silence, already seeing right through me.

He leans in closer to me, widening his smile. "You liked me."

"No, no I didn't." I say, shaking my head profusely. Trying to sound as confident as possible when this topic of discussion is only making me feel more insecure by the second.

"Why lie when we both know you're guilty." He asks slowly and I bite down on my bottom lip with my teeth.

"Well then I plead temporary insanity on this one."

His lips slowly tug upwards until they're wide enough to show me his pearly white teeth right before a couple low chuckles rumble out of him. The tip of his nose grazes the skin where my ear meets my face.

"Guilty." He whispers into my ear.

My breath hitches when he digs his head in between the crook of my neck peppering squick kisses along the delicate skin while his face wiggles side to side, trying to go deeper and I squirm, laughing in his hard grasp.

He has me feeling dizzy again. Whenever it comes to him I never know what to expect, I always have to mentally prepare myself for any arbitrary argument that could come at any moment. But now here I am, crippled by the outlandish emotions and blazing sensations he has tingling over every part of me.

I place my palms against his chest, gently adding pressure and he pulls away slowly, the same boyish smile cast on his face.

It's so strange to think that right now in this moment I'm here with him in our childhood treehouse contemplating on whether or not it's sturdy enough to have sex in.

"Why'd you bring me here, Mason? You said that I'd see, but I still don't understand."

He runs his tongue along his lower lip, "To remind you."

"Remind me of what?"

He flicks his gaze to my lips before meeting my eyes.

"That we grew up together. I know you, Isabelle. I was the first to kiss these lips." The pad of his thumb brushes against my lips gently, "Not him."

I find myself subconsciously squeezing my legs together. The air in the treehouse feels heavy around us and my breathing shallows, trying to somehow manage to suck in enough air to stabilize my rapid breaths.

He leans in closer to whisper in my ear. "Remember that."