JOTD: When someone asks me if I'm working hard or hardly working, I'm tempted to punch them in the throat and ask them if they're hurting hard or hardly hurting.

Chapter Thirty-Two: Wanting.

Char settled comfortably in her bed, folding herself deeper into her pillows with her eyes closed. It had been a really long day and all she wanted to do was sleep. But it never came. She turned and turned and turned until there was nowhere else to go.

She groaned. Oh come on, how hard is it to fall asleep?

Grabbing the covers, she buried deep into the bed, trying to see if she could sink inside bed. She waited for a few minutes and when it never came, she positioned herself upside down, so that her legs were resting on the pillows and her head was at the foot of the bed, her hair sweeping the floor.

“Argh!” she screamed into the air. This was so frustrating.

I hate people that fall asleep the minute they close their eyes. Like that takes me three hours, seven hundred positions and a sacrifice to the gods.

She stood up straight, heading for the bathroom to wash her face. For the fifth time. Her shoulder connected with the edge of the bathroom door and she groaned loudly. She was well aware that her dad was just two room away from her, but that didn't stop her. Her mom had decided to spend the night at the office.

She yawned as she turned on the tap, cupping her two hands under it as water rushed into them and splashing her face a couple times. Grabbing a towel, she cleaned her face gently. She brought the towel down from her face, studying herself in the mirror.

Char couldn't even tell if she'd lost weight or added. She looked the same. She shook her head at her foolishness and chuckled quietly.

Hit.

Hit.

Hit.

Her eyes widened as she heard a tapping sound in her window. Had she really heard that or did she just imagine it? She straightened and walked out of the bathroom slowly, counting her steps.

Hit.

Hit.

Hit.

Okay, she heard it alright.

Quietly, she strolled to her bedside table and grabbed the lamp. Whoever it was should seriously pray not to die from severe lamp hits.

“Oh my God,” she whispered quietly, taking her time to reach the window. She grabbed it with one hand, and pulled slowly. As she did, she lifted the other hand holding the lamp, ready to strike whoever it was throwing—she looked down through the small hole—pebbles at her window.

Soon, a head popped in her view. “But soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the East and Juliet is the sun,” Daniel said in a loud whisper.

She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. How much of an idiot could he be? On the bright side, she was glad it was her idiotic friend and not some psycho on the move.

“What are you doing in my room at,” she looked at the small alarm clock on her bedside table. “twelve thirty-eight in the morning, quoting Shakespeare?” she asked him with a straight face, backing away so he could fully climb in through the window.

It just reminded her of old times.

“Couldn't sleep,” he said, walking to the bed

“And?” she asked, as she sturned to look at him,crossing her arms on her chest.

“And...” he trailed off, getting comfortable on the left side of the bed. “I'm gonna sleep here.”

She snorted. “No, you're not.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Are not,”

“Are too,”

“Are not!”

“Are too!”

“Okay, listen here. My dad is just two rooms down. Shut the hell up, and get out,” she said quietly.

He smirked at her. “Make me,”

She pinned him with her gaze for a moment and sighed. She knew she'd lost. Again. How did hell was going to get him out of her room? She sighed again, this time in defeat.

“Fine,” she scowled as she saw him grin in victory. “You can stay. Just don't roll over to my side of the bed, because I will murder you.” she walked over to the bed, grabbed two pillows and fixed them in between themselves.

“I won't,” she heard him say as she laid down on her side. The mock in his voice didn't go by unnoticed. “I promise.”

“Whatever,” she sighed. Maybe now she could actually sleep.

She reached forward and switched off the lights. Several minutes passed and nothing. Her eyes were as open as an owl’s. She wanted to scream but stopped herself. The fact that she couldn't sleep didn't mean she should disturb others that could. She turned on her side, facing away from Daniel.

She listened quietly to his breathing. He didn't snore. Thank God, or she would've thrown him off the bed.

She was about to close her eyes when she felt Daniel change positions, his arm resting on his waist. She was still in shock and didn't noticed when he drew her in so they were spooning.

She'd asked him not to touch her, but she wasn't complaining.

In fact, she could get used to this.

With a smile on her face, she shut her eyes, humming Jessie J’s Flashlight, and waiting for sleep to steal her away to oblivion .

                              ********

Char winced as morning rays streamed on her face. She should've closed that stupid curtain. She opened her eyes slowly, trying to adjust to the bright light.

When she did, her eyes almost bulged out of its socket.

Daniel.

What was he doing on her bed, and how did he get into her room?

She squinted her eyes as she tried to remember last night’s events.

Oh.

She smiled as it all came back to her. The pillows that separated them were gone, she noticed and he had an arm draped over her waist as she lay, facing him.

She had to admit, she didn't think she'd ever slept better in years. Daniel slept, his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling lightly. She brought a hand up to his face, careful not to wake him up, traced gently from his eyes, to his nose, then her hand finally settled on his lips. She stared at him, their faces a few feet apart. She smiled as memories of the past swirled in her head. He was the best friend a person could have, bar none. A man in a million.

And she'd tried to excise him from her life because she couldn't get over her own jealousy and frustration.

Her eyes widened. For a moment she was stunned as the full enormity of her own stupidity and selfishness hit her. She'd almost pushed this good, loving, amazing man out of her life.

She made an inarticulate noise. Furled by guilt and regret and love and gratitude, she launched herself at him. Her body hit him with enough force to make him grunt as she flung her arms around his neck, her face finding his shoulder. At this point, she didn't care that she'd woken him up. He landed on his back, her arms still clamped around his neck, her body sprawled on top of his.

“I'm sorry,” she said, her words muffled by his T-shirt. “You deserve so much better. I'm so sorry. I've been stupid. So bloody stupid.”

Their legs were entangled, her breasts flattened against his chest. One of Daniel's hands warmed the middle of her back, the other found the nape of her neck.

“Char, you don't have to apologise to me.”

He didn't understand. Had no idea what she tried to do.

“I don't deserve you,” she said. “You've always been such a good friend to me.”

“You've been a good friend to me too, Char. The best.”

His deep voice vibrated through her with every word. She could feel his chest rising and falling with each breath. She lifted her head to look into his eyes. He looked back at her, a small, sweet smile curving his lips.

“You're my bud. Always were, always will be.”

She could see all the tiny individual bristles of his beard. His eye were very dark, rich as bittersweet chocolate. His mouth was mere inches from hers, his breath fanning her face.

For the first time, she fully registered the fact that she was lying on top of him, hip to hip, chest to chest.

Like a lover.

She could feel the hard, hot resilience of his body beneath hers, could smell his skin, his aftershave. Awareness flooded her, sending heat up into her face and down between her thighs.

Suddenly her heart was pounding for an entirely different reason. Her gaze dropped to his mouth.

If there was ever a moment of temptation, this was it.

If ever she was going to press her lips to his, touch him, move her body against his in the way that she'd dreamed so many, many times, this was it.

All she had to do was close the small distance between them and lower her mouth to his.

Kiss him.

Run her tongue over his lips.

Taste him.

Give in to ten years of desire and need.

You're my bud. Always were, always will be.

His words echoed in her mind and she forced herself to listen to them, absord them. The last time they'd kiss had been a fluke. A friendly kiss that needed no remembrance, as she liked to call it.
If she kissed Daniel again, there was a very good chance that he would be appalled. Shocked. Embarrassed.

It was enough to make her withdraw.

Do it. Some smart woman will snap him up. And it won't take long, either. Her mind told her.

“Char?” Daniel's mouth curled into a curious half smile.

She took a shaky breath. Was she really going to let him slip through her fingers a second time? Was she really prepared to love him from afar for years and never, ever take a chance? Even if that chance carried with it an enormous risk of rejection and loss?

He was lying beneath her right now, six foot plus of hard, warm male. And she was sick of not knowing. Of wanting and not having.

It was now or never.

Now.

Or never

Her heart pounding, Char closed her eyes.

Then she lowered her head and kissed her best friend.