Breathing deeply as I open my eyes, I nearly choke when I see him beside me.

Like actually see him. His blue eyes are fixed on me, the five o'clock shadow on his jaw not detracting from his pale face. He's incredibly handsome, the vague image of him not having done him justice at all.

"Hey," he whispers, his voice low and his eyes intense as he studies me.

"Hi," I can only whisper back, stunned at being able to see him.

I let my eyes travel over his well-defined shoulders and strong arms, down his chest where the dark hair is impossible to resist touching. My fingers move almost on their own and run through it, trailing down where the hair tapers into a line along his stomach. He trembles under my touch and I freeze, my eyes darting back up to his face to see he's closed his eyes.

"May," he chokes, wrapping his arm around me and pulling me into him so he can bury his face in my neck.

He feels real. Not just warm, not just a vague pressure... real. Really real.

Leaning my cheek against his chest, I breathe in the smell of him.

How is this possible? How is this happening? My thoughts spiral as we lay tangled together, hands exploring as if driven by the need to prove this isn't a dream. I may not understand anything else, but being here - in his arms - I've never felt more at peace.

So this is what love is like?

"I have to get to work," I murmur, not really wanting to move.

"I know," when he replies his lips move over my skin and I shiver at the feeling, pressing into him.

"Liam," my mind is blank, and I can't think of anything beyond the way he feels.

He doesn't respond, but instead starts kissing along my neck and down my shoulder, slowly moving me back onto my back. My body reacts instinctively to him, craving his touch.

"You're going to be late," his words aren't a question, but a statement of fact... and I'm not upset by them at all.

--

I was late to logging in, but only by a few minutes. Sure, that's because I skipped my workout and had poptarts for breakfast, but I can't find it in me to regret a single thing about it. The next morning went about the same, and the morning after. Logging in 5 minutes after start time ended up being the trend for the entire week.

We weren't much better in the evenings, either, spending the entire time in the bedroom. Part of it felt like Liam was prepared for his solidity to disappear at any moment, and he didn't want to miss a single second of the time we had. Part of it felt like my own desperation to explore a connection I've never had before. Love has never been in the books for me - never wanted it, never desired it - and now that I have it, everything feels... different.

We lost the week to each other, and every single second was incredible. Bliss - the only word I can think of to describe it. True, happy bliss unlike anything I've ever known. We both know it might not last forever, though we've kind of agreed silently not to acknowledge it... and by the end of the week, a deep fear that it might end has settled in the pit of my stomach.

I don't want this to end. I'm selfish. I want to keep this little bubble of perfection forever. The memories of it simply won't be enough.

"Austin is coming over tonight," I sighed from the kitchen, washing my dishes and cleaning up after another boring day of solving silly tech problems, "he'll be here in about an hour."

"Should I... uh... hide?" Liam asked from where he is leaned against the counter beside me, arms crossed over his chest and a thoughtful look on his face.

The million dollar question, isn't it? We haven't gone out since he changed... we have no idea if anyone else can see him. We talked about going to the grocery, just to test it out, but every time we tried we got... um... distracted.

"I'm not sure," I admit, looking toward him, "if he can see you, I'm not sure how he'll react after the Roger thing. If he can't see you, you'd have to be careful not to interact with anything since you can apparently do that now."

"What if we planned for you to introduce a work friend to him next time he comes over?" he said slowly, looking up at the ceiling, "You two already had tonight planned, and it sounds like he was really worried about dinner with his parents or whatever. Tonight's a bad night for it, I think. You could try dropping hints that you've met someone at work you want to introduce him to? Then, next time I could just... be here, waiting when you open the door. If he doesn't react to seeing me, you can say I canceled on you. If he does, maybe it'll help you start to introduce the idea you're moving on? For tonight, I'll hide in your bedroom - nearby, like always, but out of sight just in case. What do you think?"

"Sounds like a good plan," I agree, nodding, though I hate the idea of him not being beside me like usual.

I think I've become strangely reliant on him as my phantom - a protective shadow these last months I don't know how I'd have gotten by without after Omi died. I'm going to need to deal with that clinginess if he's visible to others now.

"You don't sound convinced," he chuckles, standing straight and wrapping his arms around me from behind as I continue to finish up the dishes.

My movements falter when his lips find my neck, and I forget the dishes entirely for a moment.

"I'll still be right here, love," he murmurs against my skin.

"I know," I breathe, leaning back into him, "and I'll make it up to you after."

"Will you now?" he chuckles, his hands moving under my shirt and resting on my waist, "I look forward to it then. For now, you should finish those dishes."

His hands continued to explore me, and the dishes were the least of my priorities - but every time I stopped washing, he stopped too. It was an evil exercise, and he was having far too much fun torturing me.

The dishes took 10x longer to finish than normal. I glared at him as I dried the last plate, putting it away with a huff. His laugh as he skipped away had me conflicted on laughing with him or full-on pouting at the state he left me in.

I didn't have time to make a decision, though, when a text came through on my phone letting me know Austin was on his way.

"I'm getting you back for this later," I grump, heading into the bedroom to change into something more comfortable.

His laugh followed me all the way to the bedroom, and it was hard not to smile. Everything about Liam seemed just a little too good to be true - a little too perfect, a little too amazing. I don't know what I did to deserve him, but everything he does has me smiling like an idiot.

I'd barely walked back out, ready to tease him all over again when I heard Austin's car pull into the driveway. My shoulders slumped slightly, and Liam chuckled at my reaction.

"Don't pout, love," he laughed as I huffed at him, "I'll be right in the other room waiting. Maybe I'll read your bedtime story while you're out here hanging with Austin. Enjoy your time with your friend, I'm not going anywhere."

With a final, steamy kiss that took my breath away, he sauntered off into the bedroom and left me seriously questioning if I should cancel on Austin and just accept being a terrible friend. The second Liam closed the bedroom door, though, I hear the key in the front door and knew it was too late.

Shaking my head, I sighed and looked up as Austin walked in bearing takeout containers and a plastic bag of drinks and treats.

"Hey!" Austin chirped, a big smile on his face, "I brought Chinese and wine - properly refined gentleman that I am."

I laughed out loud, grabbing some of the bags and helping put everything on the coffee table. The second I started unpacking it I could smell my favorite orange chicken meal, and I started drooling the second I saw the egg rolls.

"Refined indeed! This looks and smells amazing!" I said honestly, smiling brightly at him and giving him a quick hug before skipping toward the kitchen to grab two wine glasses.

Chinese and wine is our usual way of either celebrating or moping, a kind of tradition over the years for anything that has us wanting to splurge. So, I own exactly two wine glasses that I pull out for exactly these occasions.

"So, how was dinner with your parents? Was it as bad as you thought it was going to be?" I asked, grabbing the glasses and giving them a wipe-down to remove the dust - apparently it's been a while since we did this last.

"Oh, you know how it goes," he grumbled, "Mom whining about me not being married and giving her grandbabies, Dad picking apart every life choice and believed failure... I don't know why they insist on getting together every month if I'm such a damn disappointment. It's like they want to leave questioning if they should have given me up for adoption or not."

"Ugh, I'm sorry Austin," I sighed, plopping down on the couch beside him and pouring us each a full glass of wine, "I don't know why you put up with that shit. Want me to talk to them?"

"You know that never goes well," he laughed, "you will go in, start a big fight that makes their blood pressure skyrocket, then after you leave they'll badger me about why I haven't married you yet. Nah, just leave it be. They're getting up there in age, it just is what it is now."

"If they weren't assholes, I wouldn't start fights," I said, shrugging.

It's true, too - I have no issue walking straight up to them and telling them what shitty parents they are. It wouldn't be the first time. Last time, they straight up kicked me out of their house - I laughed at them the entire way out the door. I have no idea why they want Austin to marry me when it's clear we all despise each other, but like clockwork I got a text about an hour after I left confirming they immediately started badgering him about not letting me get away.

They have a really weird family dynamic.

It didn't take long for Austin and I to devolve into full-bellied laughs, talking and joking like we always do. I could tell he was still tense - his parents really did a number on him this time - but laughing, good food, and alcohol are always the cure for hard times with us. If I have to get him straight up drunk, that's what I'll do.

Long after the food was gone and I was feeling bloated from the grease and carbs, I was three glasses of wine in and feeling a light buzz myself.

"Hey," Austin said suddenly, "we still got ice cream?"

"Of course!" I chuckled, standing slowly and patting his head like I often do, "let me make us both a bowl. We're already throwing calorie counts to the wind, we should go all out!"

"Exactly," he chuckled, though it didn't reach his eyes.

Walking into the kitchen, I quickly make a couple bowls of his favorite chocolate-chip cookie dough ice cream, and look to see if we have any harder alcohol since it's clear Austin is still having a rough time. Grimacing at the horrible gas-station vodka, I accept this is the best I can offer and bring it with me as I head back to the couch.

"Okay, so I don't have anything stronger than this, even though I know you need it," I sigh, "but if we drink the whole bottle of wine, maybe it won't taste as terrible as usual?"

"That's a great idea," he chuckled, clinking his wine glass with mine.

He'd clearly topped us both off while I was in the kitchen, so it's obvious he's on the same page.

"Well, here's to getting wasted with friends!" I laugh, drinking heavily and silently hoping Liam understands I might have to make it up to him tomorrow.

"You always help make shit with my parents seem less awful," Austin laughed, drinking right along with me, "thanks, May."

"Of course! What are friends for?" I shrugged, "I'm sorry they're assholes."

"Nah, it's fine," he sighed, leaning back, "I just wish they'd lay off a bit."

"You could try dating, you know," I tried gently, nudging him with my foot, "maybe if you brought someone home you were serious about, it would help?"

"May," he whined, throwing his head backward and glaring at the ceiling.

"I'm serious Austin," I say softly, "You shouldn't date someone just to make your parents happy, but it might be good to find someone who-"

"May," he interrupted, sitting forward and turning to me seriously, "when we were dating, did I make you happy?"

I sat back suddenly, not sure how to respond to that question. Instead I stared at him for a long moment, then bought myself another by taking a too-long drink of my wine, before finally turning back to him.

"Austin, I care about you. A lot," I began carefully, "and when we were dating, I was happy to be spending time with my best friend. Just like I am now. Because that's what you are, my best friend. Someone I want in my life and I care about a lot."

"Don't they say you should be with your best friend," he pushed, clearly ignoring the meaning behind my words, "Don't they say that passion and romance are fleeting, but if you marry your best friend your relationship will last?"

I nearly choked when he said the word 'marry,' staring at him with wide eyes.

"Austin," I gasped, coughing a bit to clear my throat, "I... I don't... Austin, I'm sorry I just... I don't love you like that..."

"But you do love me," he asked, putting his glass down and grabbing my hands, "don't you? Sure, it's not romantic, but... you do love me?"

"I mean, of course I love you," I admit, my head getting a bit heavy, "like a friend, Austin. You're my best friend. I'll always love you, but... but not... Austin, I can't give you more than that."

Is it hot in here, or is it just me? I should turn the thermostat down a bit before bed.

"But that's enough for me," he insisted, scooting closer and looking at me intensely, "I'd be okay with exactly what we have, right now, if you'd be okay with it. It's okay that our love looks a bit different, as long as we're together."

"Austin," I breathed, trying to keep up with the direction things have gone suddenly, "What are you talking about? I don't... I don't understand."

I think I'm a little more drunk than I realized. The room is starting to spin a bit, and I'm getting really woozy.

"I'm saying marry me, May," Austin said firmly, "be with me. Just like this. Nothing has to change, nothing has to be different. We can be together the same way we always have been. Just... just together together."

"What? Austin, I can't... I can't..." why are the words so hard all of a sudden.

"Don't you remember how good we were together, May?" he continued, "Even now, just tonight, how perfect these nights are? What if we could do this every night? I'd be a good husband to you, May."

"Austin," I rasped, "I... I don't feel... so good..."

"I know, baby," he said softly, easing me back on the couch when I started swaying, "I know."

"What's... what's happening?" why is the room spinning? Why is my head so heavy?

"I need you to remember, May," he said gently, stroking my cheek, "I've just bought us a little time, that's all. This weekend, I'm going to help you remember why we belong together. Then, I'm going to propose to you properly so we can be together the way we should have been all along."

I want to beg Austin to stop talking. I want to tell him he's scaring me, and I don't understand what's happening but that something's very, very wrong. I want to ask him to take me to the hospital because I think I'm sick.

I want Liam.

But my lips won't work, and breathing is really difficult. I don't understand what's happening... but when tears I'm never able to shed leak out of my eyes, a dread I've never known washes over me.

And then there is only darkness.

--

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