I woke up in a startle.

Where am I? I thought, looking around and adjusting my eyes to the darkness of the room I was lying in, hoping really bad that I was at home, safe and sound, and not at some other place where I was being held captive, like a dark basement or something. As my eyes adjusted to my surroundings, I realized with a heavy sigh that I was indeed at my own house, in my own bed. I groaned in pain when I tried to sit up, and that's when I remembered the events before some time - how I ended up getting stabbed after a final fight and fell into Jasper's arms. However, the next thought I immediately had was not about myself, but about him.

Was he safe now?

Well, he has to be. If anyone can get me home and tuck me in bed safely, that's him, and he obviously couldn't have been harmed after we reached here. Subconsciously, I smiled at the realisation that both of us were now alive and safe, even though a bit hurt too. I glanced down to see how bad my wound was and that's when I noticed that I was now wearing a tunic, not the white shirt I had been wearing earlier. The gash had been bandaged and all the blood had been wiped off.

Did Jasper change my shirt? I thought, feeling slightly embarrassed. I mean, I had totally no reason to feel so, he did that just to keep me away from any possible infections and because that's what's supposed to be done in such a situation regardless of awkward thoughts. But I still felt the same.

Clutching my injured area to not add pressure to it, I got out of bed carefully and looked around for Jasper. He wasn't anywhere to be seen in the room, in the closet or in the restroom, neither was there any sound or sign of him. Where did he go again? I thought, feeling a little cross and worried at the same time. Why does he have to keep leaving without informing me? That's why I get so tensed and start panicking. That's exactly what had happened back at the restaurant too. But then, at least he did tell me that he was going to the restroom. Right now, however, it felt like I was the only person in the house. And that was a feeling that haunted me now, and would probably haunt me in my dreams forever. I hated that feeling. Being alone.

My mind suddenly switched to when Jasper would leave this house after dad returns and I immediately shook my head, as if shaking off those thoughts. I didn't want him to leave anymore, even though that completely contradicted my opinion towards him at first. I hated every thought that was now entering my mind. I had become so close to Jasper, so attached, that the thought of him leaving never crossed my mind. I sighed; this is why I didn't want to get attached to him. I knew he wasn't permanent in my life, never was. Yet I let down my guard.

Suddenly, the sound of the front door shutting close made me jump in surprise.

I relaxed at first, glad that Jasper was back from wherever he'd suddenly disappeared to. But another thought appeared in my mind like a sudden storm - what if it's not Jasper? What if he got caught by some others and those same people are coming for me again? I shook off those weird thoughts, reminding myself that these same thoughts had come to my mind when I was waiting for Jasper back at the restaurant but he'd returned with absolutely no harm done. It's just my over-imagination and nothing else.

...right?

There were footsteps right outside my bedroom.

Immediately, on a reflex, I backed up to the far corner of my bed, covering myself with my hands stupidly even though I was completely visible even still. Some part of my mind told me to get the fuck up and run for my life even with the wound still hurting, another part told me to take some random thing from somewhere around me as a weapon and another part told me to stay still and wait. I listened - could only listen - to the last part, since both the other options required me to move and I couldn't do that at all. I was frozen in my place, frozen in both fear and pain. Ugh, I could've at least closed and locked my bedroom door when I heard the first noise!

Suddenly, through the darkness, I saw a shadow stagger into my room through the very little light that came from somewhere far outside. I began to hyperventilate, slowly but steadily, and I tried hard to tell myself to calm down but with no effect. It's Jasper, you fool!

What if it isn't? It's dark, you can't see him, what if it's someone else?

Don't scream, June, don't.

The person moved forward again - and this time, his face appeared into view completely. I immediately gasped.

It was Jasper, alright, but he didn't look the way he did before. Of course, I already expected him to have as much as wounds as I did, - if not more - but not this much that his entire blue sweater had become bloody and he looked too weak, almost at the edge of falling down right then. As far as I know, he had fought the goons back and serious harm hadn't been done to him. Maybe it happened on our way back after I went out, maybe before that, but then it doesn't make sense how he could've carried me inside in such a weak state and then went outside again. Maybe my idea really is true - they came back for us or followed us here and tried to abduct me or kill Jasper. But seeing how far-fetched that idea was, I shook off that too. Then what could've happened to him?

Not the time to think of that. Help him!

Ignoring my stinging pain, I began to sprint out of the bed to help him stand straight and not fall to the ground. Before that, however, he somehow took out all of his energy and staggered forward, sitting on the chair, besides my bed, and keeping his hands on my legs as if reassuring me to not be scared.

But I was scared. Scared as hell. And I would be scared forever. This day, its memories, would haunt me in my sleep forever. I would remember this whenever I enter a dim-lighted or empty restaurant. I would remember the knife that touched my neck, forever. I would remember how it made drops of my own blood fall onto my shirt as my attacker came closer, his rotten smell invading my nose. Would you believe it if I tell you that I still remember that disgusting smell? I do. And I probably will, forever.

"Jasper, what happened?" I asked, concern lacing my voice, "T-there's blood all over -"

"I know. But I'm fine, June."

I frowned. Fine? He calls that fine? He looks like he had a big bucket of blood poured all over his clothes and even at some parts of his arms and he still says it's fine? He must think that I'm stupid enough to believe that! I'm not.

"It isn't my blood," he continued. Still frowning, I scanned his face and then remembered how, back at the restaurant, he injured enough goons and even almost killed the guy who had started to harass me. But until the moment I fainted, I hadn't seen such a lot of blood on his shirt. Either he has to kill someone or someone has to injure him badly enough to cause this much blood - and in this case, I think it's pretty much the latter. Just his posture now is enough proof for that. He's lying that it's not his blood. Just like he always does, to reassure me.

Much to his surprise and even my own, I stood up, ignoring the harsh sting the gash on my stomach sent throughout my entire body. "June, stop!" He yelled, jumped up and tried to stop me, but I stopped him with a dumb 'I'm alright' - which would obviously never work on him.

"You're not fine," he said crossly, "And I know that you know it well."

"Maybe not, but you're as much as 'not fine' as I am."

"Says who? I'm completely -"

I interrupted him by grabbing his arm and raising it towards me so that he could know that I did see the blood still dripping from the wound on his forearm.

"...fine," he stopped sheepishly, then continued again, "But that's fine. It'll be okay soon."

"Yeah? What about the injury on your forehead? And the one on your shoulder too?"

He narrowed his eyes at me, probably wondering how I got to know about the injury on his shoulder since it was completely covered by the sweater he wore. I rolled my eyes, "I'm not dumb, Jasper. I could see your right hand sag when you walked in."

I mean, I could see that, yes, but that doesn't mean whether I knew it was a wound or a bruise from being hit by something over there. It's most probably the latter, since that's bound to cause internal injuries and hurt more than the other one does. And everyone knows that such injuries are much more dangerous and even more fatal than external injuries - like the one I have - could be. What if Jasper had much more injuries than he seemed to have? What if he was just pretending to be okay, like always? Worrying questions bombarded into my mind and I pushed them aside, feeling more and more broken at each of those thoughts and at the fact that he did everything just for my safety. Maybe it was just a dream, but I think I heard something like him apologizing to me while I was unconscious and that breaks me till now. Does he think he's responsible for everything? If that was a dream, does that mean that he thinks he failed at protecting me? That he blamed himself for this?

I blinked back tears at that thought and gulped. Of course he didn't fail at protecting me; if he did, I wouldn't even be alive now. If he did, I would still be in the hands of that monster who was trying to harass me and something more might've happened to me by then. This happened only because I wanted to save him, not because he failed to save me.

He paused a bit, then shook his head quickly, "That's nothing."

"I don't care. Come on."

"What -"

Before he could ask me anymore questions or tell me some stupid excuses, I pulled him along to the kitchen, completely shutting off his protests and shooting a glare his way when he tried to tell me that I'm not well. He kept quiet until I ordered him to sit down on the kitchen counter. Jasper sighed slightly, but seeing me still pay no heed to his protest and take the first aid kit from inside the cupboard, he sat down on the counter obediently. He stared at me curiously, and I raised my eyebrows at him. "Why are you helping me?" He asked.

I thought of that question as a dumb one, because why would he think that I would hold back from helping him when he's in a bad situation? He has helped me on multiple occasions. He saved me from a life threatening situation. He was the only person to really understand what I was going through, as a teenager and as a girl who was away from both her parents, and to put up with my tantrums and joke around even when I hated him and treated him like shit. He never, not even once, burst out at me even though I deserved that many times. The real question is, why would I not help him?

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe it's because you saved me multiple times and even risked your life for me? Not really sure," I said sarcastically, amused at his question. It's the first time he has asked me such a stupid question. Maybe he really meant it. Maybe he thinks that I really hated him.

"You don't have to do this, y'know," he said again, not minding my sarcasm, "You're straining yourself too much."

"I don't care, Jasper."

I scanned him all over to see where the wounds were, and I rolled my eyes; of course, how can I see all that through his thick bloody sweater? The only one I could see was the bleeding injury on his forehead. Without thinking for one more second, I said,

"Remove your sweater."

Oops. Maybe I should have been a little bit more... Ugh, nevermind.

He glanced up at me, "What?"

"Remove your sweater, Jasper. I can't see where the other wounds are."

"This is the only one, June," He said, pointing to his forehead. Yeah, right. He was fighting the entire group of ten plus goons and yet he doesn't have a single injury except this one? I'm almost sure that even his ribs got hurt in between, though I can't see that.

"No. You're bleeding everywhere. Just look at yourself."

"I told you, that's not my -"

"Do what I say or I'll have to strain myself even more!" I threatened. Ha, that should make him do it.

Obviously, he did.

He took off his sweater with a sigh, muttering that he was completely okay while doing so. I knew he hated taking off the sweater, but I had to treat every wound. I, on the other hand, almost began to gape at his body which was even more built when seen like this. Sure, he did have a vest on, but that still exposed his entire arms unlike the usual sweaters he wore. I wondered why he was always so covered up, even during summer. I never even realized how much built he really was; no wonder he could handle all those puny goons without breaking any bones. He literally has the physique of a cop, or a soldier. No damage can happen to such a body unless the attack was that bad.

Stop swooning at him and get to work, you pervert!

Right. I shook my head and focused on his wounds. Sure enough, even the white vest had blood on it. My eyes fell on a few dark bruises at the far edge of his shoulder. That must hurt a lot, I thought. "Where did those bruises come from, Jasper?" I asked, pointing to them. Somehow, they didn't look like they had been made today. They looked old, and there was lots of it everywhere throughout both his hands. Could the goons have beat him up when I wasn't conscious? But that still won't explain so much of it.

"From the attack today, June. What kind of a question is that?" He asked, but I could see that he was only pretending to be amused. He was hiding something, just like always, but right now I didn't want to ask that and strain him even more. He would tell me when he feels like it. I could clearly remember that the goons had used only knives and other random stuff as weapons. I never saw them using other stuff.

Taking a small piece of the cotton with antiseptic on it after wiping off the blood, I rubbed at the wound on his forehead carefully, not wanting to hurt him. He flinched a bit, but pretended to be okay when he saw how concerned I looked. Afterwards, I covered it up with a bandaid and then moved over to the deeper injury on his shoulder. He again pretended to be fine a guyand all good even when I could clearly see, after so many months of staying with him, that he was just hiding the intense pain he felt. Maybe that pain is contagious in a way, or maybe I'm a bit sensitive, because I felt my eyes get heavy and my hands tremble a bit as they came in contact with his arm. I tried to force it down somehow, but it kept coming up, and the heaviness in my heart rose and rose as I watched how hurt he was, how he pretended to be perfectly okay even though he had looked at the brink of fainting or even dying of blood loss when he first came in. How he looked so vulnerable, different from his confident and cheerful self. How he saved me then, and everytime, and I still forced myself to hate him just for satisfying my stupid ego.

Stop, June, don't cry, don't cry!

But it didn't work. In fact, telling myself to stop only seemed to work the opposite. I gulped a little whenever the tears came to its brink or to distract myself from the thoughts, but our eyes crossed each other's right then. Shit.

I turned away instantly, not wanting him to see what was going on with me. He didn't notice it at first, but because of the way in which I'd turned away suddenly, he started scanning my face suspiciously. Just as expected, he was about to start asking me something, but I spoke before he could.

"Alright," I said, finally able to swallow back the heavy feeling, "Do you feel better?"

Even though I'm not much of an expert at treating wounds and I still tremble while using a first aid kit, I think I handled this pretty well. I had treated both of Jasper's injuries without hurting him or being clumsy with the bandaid, and that seemed like a sort of achievement for me. He nodded and smiled, "Yeah, thank you, June. How about you?"

"I'm better too."

Lie. My stomach still stings like hell.

"But you have to go back to bed. You can't strain yourself, June."

"Hey, don't worry, I'm not straining myself. It really doesn't hurt much anymore."

"No," he said firmly, getting off of the counter, "Maybe it doesn't hurt, maybe it seems fine now, but I'm not letting you strain yourself and get hurt again. I caused this and I couldn't even protect you from being harmed. I've to take care of you properly at least for my own sake, June."

He's finally revealing it, I thought. Unintentionally, he's finally revealing the fact that he blames himself for what happened. Mainly, for what happened to me. If it had been just a fight with nothing happening to me, then he would've dismissed it off and be glad that nothing happened to me in between. It's the fact that I got hurt that he regrets, not that he stood up to the fight and didn't run away when he got the perfect chance to. I couldn't help but wonder why, curious as to why he really cares about me so much. Why would he care if something happens to me? I mean, I know it's his job and that he's really faithful to my dad and stuff, but what he does is far beyond a professional level of 'caring'. He takes it on a really personal level and values even my most little emotional problems. Why? If it was just the bond with my dad, he would still be taking to heart only my protection and nothing else. But the way he cares makes him seem more like a relative or a close friend than just a bodyguard.

Well, we are friends, yes, but that was recent. Jasper talked to me about my problems far before that time we made the truce and was nice to me all along, while I wasn't, never was. Especially during that time when Trent hit me and Jasper asked me what was wrong - I said so much to him that day. Had I said that to anyone else, even my friends or dad, they would've either stopped talking to me forever or kept a distance with me from then on. He could've at least pretended to be angry at me for that, but he didn't. In fact, he was only furious at the fact that Trent attacked me and he understood that my words weren't intentional. I even said that I hated him, but that's obviously far from the truth now.

Did I even apologize for all that afterwards? I think I didn't. Even after we returned from the little meeting with Trent and had a laugh at that, I didn't apologize. I didn't remember to, I guess, because in the midst of all the excitement I'd forgotten about my harsh words. He would've remembered it though. No one can forget such words.

I clearly remember how his eyes reflected the hurt he felt when I said that. Even though he did know that those words weren't entirely heartfelt, anyone would feel bad at that nonetheless because that's how harsh my tone was. Honestly, if I were in his place and someone said those same things to me, I wouldn't bother befriending such a person anymore. In fact, I'd consider that person as an enemy then onwards. It made me reflect back on how rude, spoilt and arrogant I really had been all these months - and for no damn reason too. I was so bad, so very dumb and unlikable... I should be glad that he didn't leave me already, because had he done that, I would be dead today.

I bent my head in absolute guilt, remembering each and every one of our arguments. I bet he feels like what I despise is him and his job, that I consider him as below me or something. But that really isn't the case; it's true that I hated him at first, maybe that's because of my assumption that I didn't require protection and he invaded my privacy. But now that I think of it, such an invasion was always required.

Yesterday, he could've left me alone whenever he wanted to - like when that guy was about to harass me, or when I was almost hit by something, or anytime. He could do that, then pretend to be really hurt and fake it all to dad saying how much he tried to save me but couldn't, and still get his pay with no trouble at all because dad would definitely believe him and can't resist him his salary for his service. But he didn't. He was faithful to his job, to my dad and even to me. Maybe I'm just thinking up all of this, but Jasper really seems to take a liking to me unlike how I saw him before. He never thought of me as a burden or disturbance even though that's exactly what I was.

No one has ever risked his life for me before...

I shut my eyes tight in an attempt to force inside my tears again. I knew it was working, I was sure it was, until I felt the drops of tears drip down my red cheeks and the slight sobs escaping my throat. The thoughts of my harsh words towards Jasper kept replaying in my mind, and as if that wasn't enough for me to handle, he caught the sight of me starting to cry and asked, "June? Why are you crying?"

I looked up and saw the concern in his eyes, in his soft voice, and that's when I knew for sure that I could never hate him.

Suddenly, before I could even realize it myself, I had both my arms wrapped tightly around his torso. And that was the moment I could finally burst into a fit of controllable tears and sobs, all in between murmurs of apologies and regrets. I'd never cried in front of him before, but maybe that's because I thought that it'll make me seem as weak and fragile in front of him and because I didn't trust him enough. A dash of adrenaline rushed up my veins as I shut my eyes tight and hugged close to his chest, my hands holding the back of his vest tightly as if I'd be in danger the moment I leave it, the moment I leave his side.

Well, that is true - I'll be in danger the moment he leaves my side. That's exactly what happened yesterday night. That's exactly what will happen if I ever show my stupid arrogance again and underestimate the need for a bodyguard, and dislike a person just because of pure ego and distrust.

I don't know for how long I held close to him, all I knew was that I felt warm and comfortable, safe and good. I honestly wished that I could stay like this forever. I never imagined, in my strangest dreams, that I would get so close to some bodyguard I had. His heartbeat increased rapidly upon the contact, but I realised later that even my own had increased in both surprise and in the slight fear that he might pull away. It was obvious to me and to anyone who might see him that he was shocked, though he didn't try to pull away like I thought he would. Well, I'm glad he didn't. Else, I would've died of awkwardness right at that moment.

Was I doing something wrong? Was I wrong for suddenly embracing him?

After all, whatever I think of him or whatever he thinks of me personally would never apply in our professional lives - where he's just my bodyguard and I'm just his boss' daughter to people outside. No one outside would be able to think or decipher my emotions during this situation and would easily assume this to be something wrong even when it's not. I don't know about Jasper, but any other bodyguard, whether I've gotten quite close to him or not, would push me off if I did this because they've to remain professional and formal to their boss at all costs. Even my 'formal' friendship with him has limits because of the gap between us, though he always seems to ignore those gaps since he prioritises making me comfortable to him over remaining professional. And that's one thing I like about him, though that's just one of the last ones in the list of what I currently like about him. He's the most likeable person I've ever seen.

Enough thinking! I warned myself, about to let go, Pull away before he pushes you off.

That wasn't necessary, I guess, because the next thing I felt was his hands caressing my hair and shoulders gently.

Is this some dream, or what?

I had slightly raised my head up when I thought that it was time to let go, but right now, as his hands ran carefully through my hair as a comforting gesture and his heartbeat slowed down to normal, I leaned my head further into his chest and murmured a clearer apology again.

"I'm sorry, Jasper."

Jasper stopped caressing my head and caught both my shoulders. As the tears began welling up in my eyes again, he pushed me off carefully so that he could see my face and speak to me clearly, "You didn't do anything wrong, June."

"I did," I replied with a sob, "I did so many wrong things since the day you came here. I called you names, I hated it when you tried to comfort me or asked me about my life, I told you that I hated you and said so much to you on that day Trent hit me. You helped me afterwards and I still didn't apologize, remember? I was such a spoiled brat. You were just trying to help me. I never understood."

He shook his head and responded to my apology first, "You might take this for just reassurance, like always, but it's not. I mean it when I tell you that you did nothing wrong - all your tantrums, your jokes and your grumpiness, I took them as a joke. What else is it, actually? If we begin to take everything in life too seriously, then it won't be nice to live anymore. Besides, you're a teen; so you're actually far below my expectations of being a very rude and cranky person. Even I was so when I was your age, y'know. Way worse than you, in fact."

But age is one thing and personality is another. They may have some similarities and even be based off of each other, but that doesn't mean literally every personality traits can be blamed upon our age. Like, for example, I don't think that people being rude and toxic during their teen days have anything to do with age for most of the time - they follow that personality into their adulthood almost all the times, unless they recognize themselves and change for the better or sometimes, for the worst. Maybe Jasper feels like I'm better because of people he has met before, or because he feels like like I've changed a bit. I, myself, feel like I've had a pretty big change from my personality before Jasper entered my life and after he did, and that it's a good change too.

Jasper smiled at me and I smiled back, the tears that had been at the tip slowly drying up and the sobs slowing down as I spoke, "I still wasn't a good person. I had never been, never will be."

"Really? Is that why you risked your own life to save mine and treated my injuries even while you're injured yourself? Sure, that's definitely not a good thing to do," Jasper said, using his sarcasm even in this situation, "June, the first thing that you should realize about yourself is that you're far from being a bad person. You claim to hate me, you claim that your words hurt me a lot, but what about when you saved me? Why would you stop someone from stabbing the person you 'hate'? Your actions are what describe you, not the words you speak."

"I did that because..."

Because? Because of what? What exact reason do I have for almost risking my life for him? I don't hate him, fine, but that's far from being the reason for saving someone. Would I risk my life for someone random? In that case, I could go on a mission saving each and every person in danger. Maybe it's the truce that we made before that? Maybe it's because I was overcome with emotions? Maybe it's because I actually do admire Jasper deep beneath my facade and want him to live more, be successful with his career and help more people like my dad does? I think the answer consists of all these reasons. But I was unable to speak them out in words.

Jasper sighed at my silence, "I'm your bodyguard, June; not vice versa. You're young and you've lots of people who care about you, who want to see you live your life to the fullest, and that includes me. Do you know how we would've felt if we lost you yesterday? Do you know how much I would've blamed myself and even quit this job if that had happened? I want you alive, not dead. I can't let you lose your life for me."

I realized how his words started with 'we' and then changed to 'I' at a point. He was trying to make it sound like he wasn't blaming himself, just so that I would be okay.

"I...I know," I stuttered, "But doesn't that apply if you'd been in my place too? I'm not the only human here. You've also got more years to live, and people who care about you would be heartbroken too."

"No, because we're not the same," he said, "There's no one who'd be heartbroken if I went. No one cares, June, no one, and that's a harsh truth that I've accepted a long time ago."

"That's not true," I said, genuinely hurt at those words as I frowned and said slowly, "Because I do care about you."

He glanced up at me suddenly, his eyes reflecting surprise as much as a hint of happiness at my words. The earlier me, the earlier June would've been awkward after saying what I just said and stuttered or muttered something afterwards - but not anymore. The person I was now, the better version of me, knew better than to shy away in awkwardness. Jasper wasn't alone or unloved. My dad loved him like a son. I liked him like a...what? Friend? I guess.

"I've told you all sorts of hurtful things, Jasper, but I care about you nonetheless. I don't have any reason to hate you, and besides - remember the truce? We're friends now. Friends care about each other, help each other during times of need, and even risk their lives for each other. That's just what I did. And I don't regret it one bit. I would've regretted it only if I hadn't done that."

I was about to continue. I wanted to pacify him, to tell him that it was all okay, to convince him that he never hurt me in anyway or even accidentally put me in danger's way, but I was cut short quite abruptly when another surprising thing happened.

He hugged me.

It happened within less than a second - his arms wrapped around me tightly but gently, holding me close to him and my face and hands pressed to his chest. I gasped internally, and I could myself heat up a little and blush when I felt his head buried into the crook of my neck and his cool breath there. Calm down, calm down, this isn't a dream, I told myself, warning myself to not explode in what felt like a mixed up feeling of excitement and shock. Butterflies erupted in my stomach subconsciously and I found comfort in the warm safety I felt in Jasper's arms. It was enchanting, dreamlike and still unbelievable to me. Obviously, I had never experienced such a situation in my life before. In fact, my life had been so normal - in a 'not so nice' way - until Jasper came in. The day he entered my house, my life, it changed for the better, which I didn't realise back then. Unknowingly, he made me a better version of myself and taught me to accept the way I am. Or maybe it was knowingly? But even then, I never expected to accept Jasper someday and even grow so close to him. I never expected to hug him and thank him profusely for all that he did.

Most importantly, I never expected to risk my own life to save his.

What exactly was I thinking then? I still don't know, maybe I never will. But I'm sure that for me to be attached to someone besides dad and my friends that I'd even save their life this way, they must be someone special. The only question is, how is Jasper special to me in anyway? He's just my bodyguard, or maybe a friend, nothing more.

Or is it really something more? I suddenly wondered.

And that is the moment when my mind suddenly went into an explosion of thoughts and realizations. I frowned at one of the realizations I had. If I considered him just my bodyguard, I'd never stand in front when he was about to get stabbed fatally. I'd either have tried to stop the stab some other way I found possible or just scream in shock. But at that moment, at that single moment, the only thought in my mind was to save his life and I did exactly as it told me to, ignoring what could happen to me then. Does that mean I like him? I mean, of course I like him as a person and as a friend.

But what I mean is...do I like him in any other way? In a much more complicated way? Could it be possible that my earlier dislike towards him and my other cloud of emotions was just my own pretense to hide this fact from myself? The fact that I might...like him a lot?

Like, y'know, a crush?

Just as I was about to open my eyes suddenly and pull away in surprise, Jasper pulled away by himself, his face set in a genuine smile. "Thank you, June," he said softly, unbeknownst to what had just went through my mind, "Thank you for everything. I really -"

I shushed him with my finger and shook my head, "Don't. This was merely something I did for everything that you did for me, Jasper, just remember that. If you hadn't come into my life, I could have gone into depression or overdose on pills."

He remained silent for sometime, probably processing everything that just happened, and that's when I too realized how close we were - our faces were just some inches away and I was right in front of him, beside the kitchen counter in a very strange but comfortable position. The mere thought that I could possibly be thinking of him in a 'more than a friend' way and that he would ever even get a hint of that made me want to die of awkwardness. Jasper couldn't move back, so I quickly backed up with a sheepish smile, trying not to stutter, "I think I'll make both of us a coffee."

As fast as light, he stopped me, "You're not going to strain yourself anymore. Go to bed now, June."

Oh, back to 'bodyguard' mode.

"But what about the rest of your injuries? And your vest is entirely bloody," I asked, pointing to his blood stained vest. Obviously, he had to remove his vest too if I had to see how else he had been hurt, but I was sure that he wouldn't let me do that. Firstly, he was pretty embarrassed about even taking off the sweater, so removing this too is an absolute no-no for him. Secondly, he wouldn't want me to strain myself anymore even though I didn't even feel a pinch of pain all this while.

He shook his head, "No, I'll manage that. You should go to rest. You already did more than enough to help me."

"No, that's fine -" I waved my hand and began to walk towards the counter - but that's when a sudden pain stung through my hip and I yelped a bit. Jasper immediately came by my side and held my waist to keep me upstraight when I began to fall forward.

"What's wrong?" He asked, "I told you not to strain yourself."

"It's fine, I'm-I'm-"

There was another stung of pain and I bent over with a light whimper this time, not wanting him to see how painful it was. But obviously, he understood. Before I could protest again, he kept his other arm around my legs and carried me up to my room bridal-style. Suddenly, the injury didn't seem to hurt much anymore and I cradled into his arms, making myself comfortable and secure. I smiled and blushed a bit; he has carried me this way before when we were returning from the beach, but back then I was half-sleepy and I hated to think of blushing to something he did, even though I always did end up being flushed sometimes. That's probably because you've got a damn crush on him and never realized that due to your stupid ego, my mind told me pretty harshly, and I immediately shook that thought away, even though I did keep wondering if that really was true. It isn't impossible, after all, and it's only more possible now after everything that happened in the past few days. I've never had a crush before, true, but I'm 15; I'm a growing teenager, my hormones are at their edge during this age, and it's completely normal to like a guy who's as charming and mainly, as nice and friendly as Jasper is. It's also completely normal to feel an admiration towards the only person who knows and helps you with your problems, makes you feel lively and happy again and saved your life by risking his own. Maybe I'm just exaggerating it for myself by calling it a 'crush', but there's something that's definitely more than the limit of being just friendship. Darn, why can't I understand my own heart?

Upon reaching the bedroom, he kept me on my bed carefully in a sitting position, my head leaning back onto the bedpost. "Should we check on your injury?" he asked me, pointing to the bandaged area on my stomach. I shook my head, "No, I'm sure that it was just a little strain, nothing else."

He smiled and begin to turn back, "Fine, but call me if you feel uncomfortable, I'll be right here. Good night, June."

"Jasper, you won't leave without telling me again, will you?" I asked slowly, tilting my head, "I'd die of fear if you do."

He paused and turned to me, a look of empathy on his face as he slowly kept his hand on my head and patted me gently, "Hey, I won't. I'm sorry for leaving you earlier. I'll be here all night long and not one of those guys would dare to touch you or me again, okay? You're safe now."

"Okay. Good night, Jasper."

He nodded and left the room, closing the door with a silent creak. I sighed heavily and slumped down, wrapping my arms around my stomach and feeling empty as he left the room. The conversation we had at the kitchen still lingered around in my mind and the hug, the realization I had, everything made me hug myself and smile - something I haven't done much until I met Jasper. But once those feelings started to die down and the darkness of the room began to get to me, I unwrapped the hold around myself and wished for a split second that he would come back here right now. I knew that he would come back only after making coffee for us and cleaning up, but I wished he did. 

Should I call him back here? Tell him that I'm uncomfortable for some reason and make him stay here until I'm asleep? 

No, I decided, That'll be too much for him. He needs his own time sometimes and he'd feel like I'm being too clingy. Nevermind, I can handle sometime alone.

Good night, June, I remembered the words that he spoke with a smile. I remembered the calmness in his voice, and that made me realize that nothing was going to happen to me or him in here, especially when he was here with me.

***********

No, no, no... Leave me alone...

I woke up with a cry of pain and horror, clutching my face and blinking rapidly. My chest heaved up and down in terror and I tried to force it down on myself that that had been just a dream, a nightmare, again. But my mind was unstable and my brain was too tired to work after such a terrifying dream. Panting heavily, I noticed that my hair had become matted to my face in sweat and tears, which had dried up by now. Had I been seeing that dream for so long? I wondered. Suddenly, I bit my lips and let out a slight whimper as the injury burst into pain again. Unlike last time, the shock of the sting kept going up and down my spine like a sort of unending pain. Added to that pain was the pain of seeing that horrifying dream of my dad getting murdered again. But this time, it was much more scarier than last time, a lot more violent and brutal. I could see till the end too; where all I could remember at last was the villain of my dream trying to do something to me before I passed out. And I certainly didn't want to remember that 'something' anymore. The scene kept playing in my mind repeatedly, almost like a warning that I should be concerned for myself. Nothing worked, neither shaking my head nor trying to think of something that was nice. Stop it, please!

Even though it was clearer than last time, the attacker's face was still unclear, still blurred, as if it was purposefully trying to make me guess who he was and why he was about to assault me after murdering dad. Does that have some relation with what happened yesterday night? Can it be one of the attackers who followed us here somehow? Are we - or more precisely, I and dad - in danger, grave danger?

Still half sleepy, I looked around the empty, dark room, and began hyperventilating again. I remembered that Jasper was outside and will be here at my call, but I started worrying again nonetheless and began to call out to him, tired up of all the thoughts.

But before I could, I heard a noise right nearby. It was a creak, like that of a door opening - and I froze up again, alarmed, too scared to move. The cry that was stuck in my throat couldn't come out and I suddenly remembered the nightmare again.

Jasper, please get here in time, before he does something to me. Please...