Emilia's POV

There's nothing worse than falling asleep with a sense of fear and worry. It seeps into your dreams and forces you to watch the potential travesties that haunt your mind. It prevents you from escaping your unconscious. You have to endure it throughout the night until you are finally released by waking up. And not even that is easy.

It's been a while since the last time I've had a nightmare. I rarely remember my dreams to begin with, but the ones that I do remember are always so vivid and make me question what reality is. It doesn't help that it involved Ashton and his unfortunate situation with Reina. What's even less comforting is how in my dream I was sitting on a plane back to Denver with an empty seat next to me. It was far too quiet and reminded me too much of the days before I met Ashton and my other friends. I hated it.

However, there's nothing better than waking up from such a dream to the person who should be across the hall but somehow slithered his way into bed with me.

I poke Ashton's cheek and his lips twitch up into a smile, and then immediately fall into a straight line. I poke his cheek repeatedly, giggling as he tries to keep a straight face. "I know you're awake," I say.

He opens his eyes and greets me with his brilliant smile.

"I don't think Julia will appreciate you crashing our slumber party," I tease.

"Well she's not here so I'm not too worried," he says.

My eyebrows furrow and I roll onto my side and find that the other bed, where Julia slept, is empty.

"Julia came and got me after she heard you mumbling in your sleep," Ashton says. "She thought it'd be best if I stayed with you the rest of the night. Did you have a nightmare?"

I tuck my chin into the blanket. "Yeah."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Do you mind if I keep this one to myself?" I ask.

"Yeah, of course. I can respect that."

"Thank you."

After a few seconds, he asks, "Was it that bad?"

"It shook me up to say the least. I'm sorry you had to come over here. You were supposed to be spending time with your friends."

"It's fine," he says. "I'm actually thankful Julia pulled me out of there. I don't know how she's able to sleep in the same room as Calum. He farts so much in his sleep."

I cringe in disgust. "I really didn't need to know that."

"Well I didn't want to experience it, so I guess we're both out of luck," he says, his smile growing by the second. "Now get up. It's already noon."

"Why didn't you wake me up earlier?"

"You looked cute," he says with a shrug. "Plus it gave me time to make some necessary reservations."

"Reservations for...?"

He tsks and shakes his finger. "You know how this game works," he says. "But I'll give you a hint this time; we'll be up in the air."

"That sounds more scary than thrilling."

"We'll find out later," he says with a wink.

I reach out and run my fingers through his hair, and the length isn't as long as it used to be. "You got a haircut," I say.

"You just now noticed?"

"Excuse me for not being super observant right now; I just woke up."

He cracks another smile. "I love sassy Emmie."

"When did you cut it?" I ask.

"Earlier this morning," he says. "It needed to be cut to look decent for the wedding and there was a barber shop not too far from the hotel. Does it look bad?"

I run my fingers through it again. "No, I love it."

He rolls out of bed and places a stack of neatly folded clothes from the armrest of the loveseat to the space where he once lay. "Julia picked these out for you to wear today. I may or may not have had a peek at what she picked for you to wear under your clothes."

"You perv," I say, throwing my pillow at him. "Get out."

He laughs and tosses the pillow back onto the bed. "Meet me in the lobby when you finish getting ready," he says before slipping out the door.

I glance down to the folded clothes before throwing my body back down onto the bed and nuzzling my head into the pillow.

It takes a little effort to force myself out of bed and get dressed, not because I don't want to go out with Ash but because once you're comfortable in bed, getting up is like a sin. I'm glad the clothes Julia picked for me don't include a dress or skirt, but rather something more comfortable and more me. She paired my favorite pair of dark-washed skinny jeans with one of her loose-fitted white button-down shirts that I'm more than sure she's only worn a handful of times. My curves fill in the shirt a bit more than it would Julia, but it still flatters my figure. The only thing I'm not too happy about is the pair of black wedge sandals sitting by the door, waiting to break my ankle the moment I take a step in them. However, when I secure the straps around my ankles, they're surprisingly comfortable and easy to walk in. Not to mention the perks of the added height. Maybe I won't have to kill my neck every time I look up at Ashton while wearing these.

After fixing my hair to a presentable state and adding a little powder to my face, I gather my belongings and head out the door. Just as I turn out into the hallway, I stop at the sight of Luke and his flattened hair stepping into the elevator. I call out for him to hold the elevator and scurry down the hallway towards him.

Luke's eyes trail up and down my body and he tilts his head to the side once I make it inside the elevator and the doors close. "You look taller," he says, and I lift my left foot out to show off the heels. "What's the occasion?"

"Ashton is taking me out on a date," I say. "Julia picked out my outfit."

"She did good job," he says with a weak, almost resistant smile.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm meeting up with Jack to go over some groomsmen stuff. I think he said something about discussing the bachelor party too. I'm not all too sure; I was half out of it when he called me."

"You'd think that be the kind of information you'd pay attention to," I say.

"You'd think." His smile turns genuine.

Our conversation dies out as we continue our descent floor-by-floor. I shift my gaze down to my toes peeking out from the sandals and try to wiggle them free as a distraction to the silence resembling that of my dream. It doesn't help much because elevators are naturally an awkward and usually silent place, not to mention anxiety-inducing.

"Emmie, if I ask you a question will you promise to tell me the truth?" Luke asks, leaning back against the wall of the elevator.

"What is it?" I say.

He tilts his head down to force eye-contact. "Are you okay?"

I never though such a simple phrase would cut deep into my mind and make it impossible to hold on to the façade that hides my inner fears. Before I met the boys, I could hide whatever negativity that was consuming my life and make it nearly impossible for anyone to see beyond the mask I wore. But now I can't even hide the emotional effect of a simple, unrealistic dream.

I stare up at the declining, red digital numbers as we near the ground floor. "I'm...not okay," I say.

"Does this have to deal with why Julia made Ashton go back to your room in the middle of the night?"

"I didn't even know he came back until I woke up thirty minutes ago, but yes."

He continues to guess. "Is it about Natalie?"

"She's a part of it but no."

"Reina?" he asks, and I stay silent. He pushes off the wall and stands closer to me. "He's not going to leave you, Emmie. When we talked to him last night, I don't think that was even a consideration. That boy practically gets a boner every time you walk into the room; there's no way he'd leave that. He might be involved with Reina in some way but he wouldn't leave you."

As much as I want to laugh at his comment, I hold my posture. "We haven't even talked about it together yet," I say. "I honestly have no idea what he's going to decide to do, and that scares me." I turn to face Luke and smile. "But I'm trying not to think about that. I have to think positive...even if I don't feel it."

Luke reaches out and wraps his arm around my shoulders, pulling me close until I'm pressed against his side. "You shouldn't have to put up a front just for others' benefit," he says, rubbing my arm. "I know that's the type of person you are, but who are you really fooling?"

At this point, no one but myself. I don't answer him; I only I pull away when the elevator comes to a halt and the doors slide open. A few people stand outside, waiting for me and Luke to exit. We step out and I don't walk far before Luke spins me around.

He presses his forefingers on either corner of my lips and forces me to smile. "You're going on a date," he says. "Always wear this smile. It's the one Ashton fell in love with, and if I know him as well as I do, it's the one he can't live without."

My smile remains even after Luke pulls his fingers away. As we start towards the lobby exit, I spot Ashton by the revolving door with his hands in his pockets, staring only at me. The muted, military green button-down shirt he's wearing doesn't look familiar to me and makes me wonder if he went shopping while he was out this morning too. He should wear this color more often.

Ashton's smile grows, deepening the craters in his cheek, as I walk across the lobby towards him. "I didn't think you would actually wear the clothes," he says, reaching out to take my hand when I'm finally within distance.

"I could do without the heels, but I like it," I say, looking down at my own attire.

"I like it too."

"I swear sometimes you two are too much for me to handle," Luke groans and playfully brushes past us. "I can only endure so much adorable and you two are making me reach my limit already."

"Where are you headed?" Ashton asks.

"Meeting up with Jack," Luke says. "Groomsmen stuff."

"Tell him I said hi," he says. "And that I'm sorry I didn't stick around long enough to talk to him at the BBQ."

"He understands," Luke assures and places his hand on the glass of the revolving door. "Be safe while you two are out."

"You too," I say.

Luke sends a soft smile my way before he exits the hotel.

We leave shortly after Luke and take the bus to whatever secret location Ashton is taking me to. During the short bus ride, Ashton points to each landmark and explains the significance or insignificance of them. It's cute because several other passengers riding with us, who look more like tourists with their tour guide pamphlets in hand, listen in to Ashton's mini-rant about the surroundings. His enthusiasm and erratic hand gestures could make him pass as a tour guide, but he reserves his attention solely to me. Even when he glances out the window and observes areas where he used to hang out at with his friends, his gaze always returns to mine.

Ashton covers my eyes as we near our date location. When we come to a stop, I nearly trip as I step off the bus thanks to Ashton blinding me, but I forgive him for catching me and keeping my face from slamming onto the ground.

I flinch every time I hear a car whoosh past us as we walk along the sidewalk. "This would be so much easier if you would let me see where I'm going," I say, clinging to his arms as he continues to cover my eyes from behind me.

"Not much longer," Ashton says, guiding me forward a few more steps before peeling his hands away. "Ta-da."

I squint at the sudden brightness and blink furiously until my eyes adjust. I look from left to right but only see buildings on either side of the street; nothing to get excited over. "Well that's underwhelming," I say.

He chuckles and points up.

I follow where he's pointing and my jaw slacks. So this is what he meant by us being up in the air. Steel cables surround and stabilize a thin tower that projects outward at that top, which I assume holds some sort of attraction. "That's tall," I breathe.

"Good observation," Ashton says, hiding his amusement with a crooked smile. "This is the Sydney Tower Eye. It's basically the most touristy thing you can visit here."

"We're going up there?"

He inhales deeply and takes a short glance at the tower. "Yeah."

I look back up towards the tower and then back to Ashton, who averts his gaze from the ridiculously tall structure. "You don't look too sure."

He places his hand on the small of my back and nudges me forward towards the tower.

When we enter the attraction we're led into a theater and view a 4D movie about the tower. It's quite impressive to say the least; a full sensory experience with touch, sound, sight and smell. But it doesn't keep my attention for very long because I'm more excited to go up to the top of the tower, but Ashton doesn't seem to be as thrilled as me.

Shortly after the movie, we move into an elevator which shoots us right up to the top of the tower. Ashton keeps his head low and his eyes glued to the ground. His death grip on my hand only affirms his obvious anxiety. When the elevator doors slide open, a line of large glass panels circling around the tower and looking out onto the city come into view. I rush out towards the first window I see and admire the breathtaking view. I thought our hotel room had a great view but it doesn't compare to this.

Several of the landmarks Ashton pointed out on the bus are much more magnificent from this height. I almost feel superior to everything around me; skyscrapers, historical landmarks, the harbor, and even the pedestrians walking the streets. I call Ashton over to look but when he doesn't appear, I turn back towards the elevator to find him a few feet away from it with his hands desperately trying to grip onto the inner curved wall of the tower.

I go back to him and rest my hand on his arm. "Are you okay?" I ask. I don't think I've ever seen him so freaked out. He didn't act this way when we went rock climbing on our first date. I mean he was a little nervous when he looked down from the top of the climbing wall, but he got over it pretty quickly.

"Vertigo," he says quickly with his eyes closed and forehead pressed against the wall. "I should also mention there's a reason why I've never been up here."

"Wait, you've never been up here? You lived in Sydney practically your entire life and you've never been here?"

He peeks out of one eye. "I'm not a big fan of heights like this."

"But not heights in general?"

"I can handle being in tall buildings and I'm fine on a plane and stuff, but this...we're practically standing on a piece of straw that could literally snap and send us plummeting to the ground. And what if someone tries to round-house kick one of the windows? Do you know how thin oxygen is at this height?"

I know I shouldn't laugh, but his irrationalities are amusing. "I highly doubt the tower will snap and unless Chuck Norris decides to make a grand appearance, I'm pretty sure no one intends to round-house kick the window," I say. "Why did you bring us here if you were afraid?"

"I'm not afraid," he mutters. "I knew it'd be something you'd like. I wanted to take you out to see all of Sydney and this is the best way I knew how. And I don't know if I'll ever come back here to experience this again, so I was like, what the hell."

The things Ashton does for me. But also, the things he does for himself. I don't think I will ever get used to all the times he amazes me. I never want to stop seeing it.

"Thank you," I say, resisting the urge to rub his back because I don't want to worsen his vertigo. "Take as much time as you need."

His death grip returns, but this time he rubs his thumb against my skin.

It takes about twenty minutes for Ashton's vertigo to subside, and after assuring him over and over that the little boy smacking his hand on the glass won't break it, he finally moves away from the wall. We stay a couple feet away from the windows and circle around the observation deck for a 360 view of the city. His grip on my hand slowly loosens and he's able to look out the windows so long as he doesn't look down to the roads below us. Eventually I'm able to coax Ashton to sit on the windowsill with me, but not without his hand linked with mine.

As we look out onto the city, I can only wonder how Ashton views it. This is where he grew up. This is where he experienced love and heartache. This is his city. This is his home.

"Can you draw something for me?" I ask suddenly.

He cocks an eyebrow. "Right now?"

I nod. "It's rare I ever get to see you draw or paint. I want to see the process."

Usually I only see the finished products of his work. I only catch him in the act before he stops. The only times I actually saw him at work was when he was drawing human figures in his room, which led to us making a stick figure portrait of ourselves, and the time he was painting roses in the art studio.

"I don't have anything to draw with," he says.

I lift the flap of my purse and pull out the small notepad and pen that I always keep in case of emergencies or to write down random thoughts. "Will this work?"

He takes the notepad and pen from my grasp and flips to a blank page in the middle. "What do you want me to draw?" he asks.

"Anything," I say. "Whatever you see."

Ashton looks out the window and studies the city before glancing at me, then down to the notepad. He clicks the top of the pen and streaks of blue ink begin to form shapes and shadows as soon as the ballpoint touches the paper. He doesn't look up, but he occasionally glances at me out of the corner of his eyes. His lips curve up and down every so often, and his eyebrows knit together when he presses the pen harder against the paper.

I don't even notice when he finishes until he tosses the pen at my head. I was too busy watching every feature of his. I have never understood why Ashton loves to watch me all the time, but I think I understand now.

"What did you draw?" I ask and lean closer to him to examine the paper. The familiar bare landscape and front door that I've walked in and out of more times than I can count confuses me. His car and Calum's truck are drawn in the exact position that they are normally parked in. There are even details of the few missing shingles on the roof from the lack of maintenance. "Why did you draw your house?"

"You asked me to draw what I see," he says. "When I look at you I see home."

I definitely understand it now. There's a glint in his eyes that lets me know that he'd sacrifice his entire world to follow me anywhere. And I think that's what he sees when he watches me.

I continue to admire the drawing until I can produce an exact mental image of it.

"Are you hungry?" he asks.

I slam the notebook shut and shove it into my purse along with the pen. "Oh thank God, I thought you'd never I ask."

____

A/N: I swear I am such a sap. A hopeless romantic living vicariously through my characters. Sorry for the late update! I had to do lots of research for these next coming chapters and then the holidays happened. I hope you all had a happy holidays! I thought I'd get one more chapter in before the New Year. I hope you like it!

I wonder if what I learned in my advanced fiction writing class is showing in my writing or not. I hope it has improved throughout the year. I really wanted to finish this story by the end of this year but then school and life happened so that didn't happen, but that's okay.

I can't wait to see what comes in 2016. I love you all and you have given me the best year. I appreciate you all and hope that you'll follow this story into the next year with me.

–Rebecca xoxoxoxoxo