I see how your attention builds; It's like looking in a mirror. Your touch like a happy pill, but still all we do is fear. What could possibly happen next?

"Good morning, Handsome," I greeted lightheartedly. Nick looked up from his bowl of cereal, offering a tired smile. "What's wrong?" I snagged one of his pieces of toast from a plate he had set to the side and he glared at me before I laughed and that tired smile returned, a little brighter.

"Morning," he responded, his voice gruff. I crossed my legs, my eyes following the walls and tiles as I always did to try and distract myself from him. Ha morning voice was always extra distracting. "Why do you do that?"

My gaze found his again. "Do what?" I asked, my eyebrows knitting in confusion.

"Look around like that," he almost accused. "You do it all the time, even more when we're alone. You never look me in the eye or strike conversation. You always used to be super chatty and then suddenly the entire world seemed more interesting than me. You must have this room memorized by now but you still analyze it and each morning. Why?"

A secret smile tickled my lips as I bit back a smirk, my top teeth resting on my bottom lip. "You're very distracting in the mornings. And always," I said slowly. "I try to distract myself so I don't stare or make it obvious. Especially now, when we're... on standby. I don't want to stare and make you feel... pressured." He looked to the side, rolling his eyes, and I grinned. I stood. "Well I'll see you after work."

"Work?" He asked, confused. He had enough to keep us plenty well taken care of and I hadn't had to work in a while.

"I got a job," I told him. He rose an eyebrow. "It's stuffy in this house. There's only so many movies I can watch before I've seen them all. I know the tile count of every bathroom and the kitchen and dining room individually by memory and the carpet square color pattern from in the living room. I'm bored. Time to actually be an adult and not forever depend on my best friend to provide everything."

"You aren't planning on moving out are you?" He asked hurriedly as I went to leave. I paused in my doorway.

"No," I responded soothingly. "Not unless you want me to."

He looked at me, his expression unreadable. "I don't want you to."

"Then I won't leave." And with that, ironically, I left.

-

My eyes trained on the liquid sloshing around in the glass in my hand as my wrist turned the glass, making the drink inside move. My expression was blank and my eyes were unfocused. My body buzzed a sort of numbness one can only achieve with severe suicidal depression or alcohol.

This time it was just alcohol.

The door opened and I saw Nick enter, his casualness dropping as he slowly set the keys down on the counter of the entryway. I was sitting on the couch and he watched me, unsure.

"You okay?" He asked quietly.

"No," I slurred. "You know, the world is beautiful and no one appreciates it. People just walk around in it every day and burn trees and destroy life and call it home. If this is home we treat it like shit."

"Are you drunk?" Nick demanded, his voice raising a few pitches. I had not been actually, messy drunk in many years. The last time it happened my dad had lashed out at me when I came to visit the family and I didn't go visit them for seven months after the incident. Nick and I were barely friends during that time and all he knew was I went from the light, happy girl that made him laugh to a quiet, depressed drunk who cursed at him and ripped into him and made weirdly deep, philosophical notions left and right that always left him stunned.

"Have you seen this wonderful, beautiful planet?" I demanded of him, not looking away from my glass. "Do you realize how blessed we are to be in such an ideal place that every single little thing we need is lined up and ready or us to use? And we're trashing it!"

"How much have you had to drink?" Nick asked, looking at me warily.

"Not important," I snapped. "Its-"

"I'm worried about you-"

"It's like you," I finished, ignoring his comment. That shut him up. "You're so good. So wonderful. You bless me so much. With your friendship. Your kindness. A place to stay. Food to eat. All of our friend nights out and knowing your brothers and so many good, wonderful things. And all I can do is want more. I want to sleep in your bed, not in your house. I want to let in your arms, not in your chairs. I want to kiss your lips and not just watch from a distance as I- As I... I'm sorry." My watery eyes met his and he looked completely shell shocked and stunned. "You're so good, Nick. You're this wonderful, amazing thing. A really nice thing." I looked back at my glass. "This is why we can't have nice things. Because then I drink and cry and over think and say too much. I'm sorry."

He moved to my side, taking the glass out of my hand and setting it on the coffee table. He pulled me into him, scooping me up in his arms and standing again. Nick walked us to his room without asking or saying anything, lying me on the bed. He was completely silent and stoic and I pulled his arms, trying to tug him in with me. "No," he whispered tersely. "Not tonight."

"Another night?" I asked, putting on my begging eyes.

He actually smiled. "Maybe." He pulled the blankets over me and kissed my forehead. "Sleep here. I'll come get you later with some food, water, and aspirin. Take a nap." He moved away to the doorway.

"I love you so much, Nick. Thank you for everything."

Nick paused and then looked at me, his face contorted in some kind of agony. "Don't Thank me yet." He closed the door and I was left alone. I sighed, turned on my side, and fell asleep way faster than I anticipated I would.

Can we focus on the love? Paint my kiss across your chest. Be the art, I'll be the brush.

My hands pulled my hair over my shoulder as I turned my back to him. "Nick."

"Hm?" He turned to face me and I saw him freeze from the corner of my eye. I turned my head, hiding a smile.

"Zip me up?"

He moved to me, his fingers fumbling with the zipper for he first time ever. Of all the times I'd tied a tie or fixed the collars of his jackets or helped him out of shirts when he was drunk or hurt. Of all the times he'd zipped up my dresses or grabbed my bare waist as I wore my bikini and he scooped me up, teasingly pulling me off my feet as both of us were inches away, half naked. Of all the timed the media had blown up with how couplet we were and his family and my friends had pointed out how uniquely close we were. Eve closer than best friends. More comfortable than anyone who is just friends. NOW he was nervous about touching me?

His fingers moved from the zipper to my back, tracing the dips and curves. A shiver ran up my spine. "You shiver at my touch. Always." He seemed to be talking more to himself but he way he said it, his words a little thick and dreamy, make me shake to my core. I suddenly felt unsteady in the heels I'd worn countless times before and never once struggled with. "Where are you going all dressed up, hm?"

A short chuckle escaped me. "I have a date tonight."

"What?" He moved to the front of me, his hands dropping away as he left my back still open.

I shrugged. "I have a social life, Nick. I don't stop because you're suddenly some level of interested in me. Maybe. Sort of. Kind of."

His eyebrows came together in frustration. "But... But I- You didn't invite me."

One of my eyebrows popped up in disbelief. That's what he was going with? "It's a one-on-one date, Nicholas. I didn't invite anyone."

"We always do scoping out and dates and club sessions together though."

"We go in a group. Not together," I corrected. "And you go home with girls as I go home with guys. All the time." That seemed k bother him too. "I've been on plenty of dates before," I pointed out.

Nick looked at me, trying not to show his irritation. "Well, where did you meet this guy?"

My hands crossed over my chest. "A bar. His name is Logan. Best sex of my life so far, not going to lie." I casually looked at my nails. "A girl's got needs and boy does he fill them just-"

Nick grabbed my waist and pulled me close, his eyes burning with some sort of anger that aroused me instantly. "Cancel your date."

"Why?" I asked, my voice quiet and thick.

"Because I don't want you going out with some other guys. Some guy other than-" He cut off, his look burning into me.

"Other than you?" I asked, pushing. Prodding.

He leaned close. "Other than me," he agreed. His nose touched mine and I sighed before leaning back.

"Kissing me breaks the promise... remember?" I pointed out sternly.

"No it doesn't," Nick argued.

I placed a hand on my hip. "Having sex with me doesn't break the promise? Are you sure about your feelings? Suddenly? Magically? Just because you're jealous?"

He pulled me close again. "I'm sure I want you. And I'm sure that I don't want you to go out that door and go on that date. It'll kill me- No. don't go. Just don't."

My eyes searched his, looking for truth. Something real and stable and concrete. Something to be sure of. His wanting was genuine and burning and I felt it in myself too. My look softened and I leaned close. He reacted, pushing me against the nearest wall and kissing me so hard that my insides set on fire. My hands reached around behind him, my fingers going into his hair and wrapping around the short, dark strands. I pulled and he pressed his knee to my sensitive spot, both of us moaning in our own way. Mine was quiet and breathless. His was almost a growl.

Nick bit my lower lip, pulling, and my hips pushed against his in response. His hands held me tightly, not hurting but showing me his desperate yearning even in something so simple. He kissed me again and I ran my tongue against his lower lip, asking silently for a deeper kiss. His lips stayed shut, working against mine, and my eyebrows knitted in frustration, too many emotions burning too many paths through me at once.

I leaned back a little to let some air out but he leaned right back in, sucking in as I breathed out, taking the air. My eyes opened, my brain unsure of when they closed, and he smirked as our eyes met. "I stole your breath away," he flirted.

I had never seen this side of Nick before. I'd seen him horny. Needy. Emotional. Demanding. Angry. But I'd never seen him romantic and open and so goofily flirty. "You're a total dork," I teased. He blushed, looking at my neck.

"I can be more aggressive if you want," he offered, that lust still swirling in his eyes.

My finger pulled his chin up. "I like dorky," I added, kissing him gently. We parted again and then came back, kissing slower and more passionately. Before there was a need. A desperation. This was the same feeling, but different. This wasn't blind passion. This was controlled, realized. This was planned purposefully, mapped meticulously, calculated carefully. He moved his head, tilting his lips away as his nose brushed against mine, his fingers running along the gap between my shirt and my jean waistband. I shivered as I always did, feeling his fingers grazing my bare skin. He smiled. It was sweet and precious and I loved it. But I needed him right now. "I like aggressive too," I prompted. He chuckled, his head moving so his lips pressed to my neck.

His teeth nipped at my hot skin and I gasped, my head pressing against the wall as I tilted it, giving him more access. His hands slipped under my shirt, holding my waist firmly as he pressed flush against me, wanting to be as close as possible. My breaths became short and labored as the shivers that came from his fingertips exploded into earthquakes in my body now that he was touching me so much. "Don't freak out too much," he cooed almost mockingly. My hands went to his face, holding it in place as I looked at him. He looked back, half entranced at how I looked at him.

"You haven't seen anything yet," I mumbled.

"Then show me."

A smirk lifted to my face and I leaned close. My lips ghosted over his and he sighed, his eyes closing as he went to lean in and kiss me, content. I leaned away, though, keeping out of reach of full contact. His eyes opened, eyelids heavy; he looked confused. I moved my lips to ghost his again and this time he didn't move, letting me follow his words and show him what I meant without his interference.

My lips trailed along his jaw, leaving long, slow kisses against his hot skin. Then I moved to his neck, peppering more there. He sighed softly through his nose, a relaxed smile resting peacefully on his lips. My hands went down his back to his waist and then around to his stomach, pushing up again his body and working up his his chest. I grabbed his collar, having pushed him back a little. His eyes were opened now and trained on me, intrigued. I held his gaze as I slipped away from the wall, pulling him after me as I walked backward to his room, one hand still holding his collar and one hand behind me, feeling for furniture or walls or corners, guiding me to my goal without needing to look away from him.

When we reached the room and I pulled him in, pushing him onto the bed. I kicked off my heels and leaned over him, my hands on his chest, pushing him to lay on his back on the bed. His hands ran up my arm from my wrist. He worked to my shoulders then over and down to my waist. He held me there, steadying me as I crawled carefully over the bed and him. He pulled me down, tugging, and I gave in. Our lips touched again, soft and brief, before I leaned back again. One of his hands moved to tuck my hair behind my ear. His hand lingered though and his thumb brushed my cheek softly. His expression was soft and admiring and it put me at ease. He wore a bright, calm grin. Not harsh but warm and alluring. My hand moved under his arm, my fingers tracing his lips.

"It's been too long since you've really smiled like this," I whispered. "You've been quieter. Calmer. Not necessarily happier but... more content. More in the middle. Not happy or sad. It's nice to see you smile like this again.

He grinned wider and I couldn't help but smile shyly in return. "It's because of you."

That was all he said and my whole insides ignited with comfortable and safe warmth, making my skin tingle and my insides feel like sunshine. I leaned down close, my thigh pressing to where he needed me, the bulge already prominent, even though he was now controlling himself to preserve the sweet moment. He gasped quietly. My lips ghosted his ear as I spoke very quietly and softly, my voice low in pitch and volume. "Now, what was I say about showing you?"

He shivered and a half-giddy laugh escaped him, making me grin.

This boy was going to be the death of me. Heaven help me, I was completely in love and totally at his mercy.

For now, though, he was at mine, and I was all about taking advantage of the opportunity he'd presented to me. I kissed him, hard, and his hands slowly, carefully, pulled my still-unzipped dress off my shoulders and off of me slowly. I smiled into the kiss but stopped him.

"My turn," I reminded. He whined and I chuckled. "I'll make it worth the wait."

He would later assure me that, indeed, I had most definitely kept my word.

Ooh you're taking up a fraction of my mind. Ooooh every time I watch you serpentine. Oh I'm tryin', I'm tryin', I'm tryin' I'm tryin', I'm tryin' Oh tryin', I'm tryin', I'm tryin'

I woke up smiling, sure that the scenes and feelings running through and over me were part of a wonderful dream. So realistic and wonderful. A dream I'd never had before but wished that I'd have again, soon. I reflected on his gentleness. The playful and light teasing as well as the dirty talk. The way my name sounded falling off of his lips, mixed with a moan of pleasure. The feeling of his name rolling off my tongue in the same manner and hot it affected his expression and what he was doing and how his reaction to my reaction ignited an even further reaction in my body. The heat and closeness and intimacy. Nothing rushed or forced. Everything amazing and slow and passionate and wonderful.

My eyes opened, seeing the familiar grey ceiling of... Nick's room.

Sitting up, I pulled the sheets up to cover my naked body and yesterday flashed through my mind again. This time as a vibrant, colorful memory. A hand ran through my hair and I couldn't hold a smile back. A wonderful smell filled my nose and I looked over to see that Nick's side of the bed where he would be was empty. A pile of clothes for me to wear lay on his pillow and I chuckled to myself. Folded nicely and everything.

Pushing myself across the bed and out of it, on his side, I got dressed quickly in sweats and a tank top and socks too. He even remembered that I adored to wear socks in the morning, since I liked to hold on to the warmth of my sheets as long as the world would allow me to. I searched my pockets and thanked everything good and wholesome in the womanly world that I had a hair tie in one of them. I pulled my wild bed head hair into a ponytail and followed the wonderful smell to the kitchen where Nick was making dinner. His eyes were trained on the food, his expression a bit tense, his lips moving to form words I couldn't hear. I leaned against the entryway arch, watching him and folding my arms.

"Good morning, Handsome," I greeted. He looked over suddenly, surprised, and his face broke into a bright grin that zapped me with energy and kicked my ADHD tendencies (I'd never been officially diagnosed but sometimes I really wondered) into gear early this morning. I was suddenly awake and my right foot and left hand tapped along to a beat I couldn't hear as much as feel.

His smile faded a little though, into more a shy greeting. "Good morning."

A feeling of awkward tension poked at me and I was suddenly unsure of myself. Maybe he had been sure about last night until he woke up this morning. Maybe even though he wanted to be with me, he was still somehow unsure about really being with me. Long term. Maybe he was scared about what I'd do or think or want now.

I'd been in all kinds of relationships before. Friends. Relationships. Friends with benefits. All kinds of in between. Random booty calls. No sex at all.

What would he want next?

He finished making breakfast and then served it up on plates. Two plates. Of course. I was here. He's hosting  a guest.  Not necessarily a romantic guesture, just a courtesy.

We both ate in quiet. Which was unusual. The only sounds of the room where the forks hitting the plates and chewing and my foot tapping on the floor.

"How did you sleep?" I asked, trying to push the awkwardness and away and figure out what he was thinking. Prompting. Pushing. He was stubborn. Either he would talk to me or he would avoid it at all costs and me being blunt would make him tilt to avoiding conversation even if he was considering talking about it.

He shrugged. "Pretty well."

"You were tired?" I asked slowly. He stopped chewing and looked at me. A beat passed and then he returned to eating. "A little worn out? Maybe it was really warm and comfortable?" I was antsy and playing this as far as I could without flat out saying what I was thinking.

Nick cleared his throat. "I have work in the studio today. So I have to leave right after breakfast. Sorry. Have a good day." He smiled and stood and I shot to my feet, catching his arms. He turned to look at me, avoiding eye contact.

"Nick," I urged. "Nick!" He finally looked at me. "We have to talk about what happened last night. You can't just pretend it didn't happen. If you regret it, sure, okay-"

He scoffed. "I don't."

"Then what's your deal?" I snapped, folding my arms.

He moved to me quickly and my eyes went wide. His hands hovered over my skin before finally touching me, his right hand grazing my face and his left trailing circles on my arm. "You... you drive me crazy. You are so beautiful and funny and social and I can go to sleep next to you and it feels so right. You make me... want things. You make me want things I can't have. You make me want to wake up next to you every morning. Kiss you goodbye when I leave for work. Greet you with another kiss when I come home. Get married and have kids and live an apple pie American life-" He shook his head. "It's ridiculous."

"Why?" I whispered, my voice wet and breaking.

"Because I'm not normal. I leave a lot and have a lot going on. My life is drama and magazines and pauperatizi and as much as I WANT you... I'm not the forever-together kind of guy. Nothing lasts as long as I intended it too. You deserve normal. Happy. Stable. You deserve better than I can give you. I... I want you. But it's not... it's not fair..." His eyes closed and he punched the bridge of his nose.

I stepped closer, touching our foreheads. "Isn't that my decision to make? Isn't it better to at least try than to roll over me just give up?" He opened his eyes, leaning back and looking at me. We stayed close, his left hand moving from my arm to my waist, pulling my body to his. "How about... how about a trial run? We can just try out a relationship. That way you at least tried."

Sighing and shaking his head, he mumbled, "This is a terrible idea."

I smiled. "But you're going to do it?"

Nick's eyes moved up to meet mine. "Whatever. Okay. I... Okay." He shook his head, chuckling. "This is silly."

"It's a compromise," I argued, wrapping my arms around his neck. I kissed him gently, and he responded immediately, kissing me back. I smiled, separating, and pat him on the cheek. "Now Get to work." I moved away from him to clear the table and he laughed.

"You're ridiculous."

I smirked. "I know. Have a good day at work hunny."

Nick left laughing. He was happy though. The awkward, weird beginning of our trial relationship had begun and it made him happier. I was already winning this.

—

A/n: Oh wow this imagine is REALLY long yikessssssss