Jude Christopher Brahm,

It's been a difficult day.

That's all I'm going to say about it for your sake, but I spent the entire day wishing I could come home to you. I missed you, Jude. I miss you.

But you're here, and you're breathing, and you're a hand to hold. Your bed is for me to hide in with you. For now, at least.

Can I just hide from the world with you for forever?

~ ~ ~

We had been in a state of official, 'mutual like' for almost two months.

Mom was starting to get skeptical of the fact that anything would come of it. She didn't ever say so, but I could see it in the way she smiled at you every time you came over, hanging over her head like a cloud of, 'Kiss already.'

I could hear it in her voice, too. Or the lack thereof. Her silence implied that she didn't want to chat, which in turn implied that she wanted us to go off by ourselves.

I was onto my mother.

You were as clueless as a newborn.

"She's playing matchmaker," I said one afternoon. You were on break and we were hiding in the storage rooms of the store, just talking. I was sharing my theories of conspiracy with you. (You were probably hoping that no one would come back there and find us.)

You were a skeptic. "She seems perfectly normal to me."

I chuckled. "You don't know Mom like I do. She's up to something. She likes you, and I think she's getting impatient."

"Impatient with what?"

I could only stare, sighing. "With you, Jude. She wants us together, and she never stops trying to get us alone. Haven't you noticed?" My words got caught up in laughter, and I covered my mouth.

You blushed. "I didn't realize that it was actually happening."

I grinned a little bit. You looked so confused as you sat there, brow furrowed, and ran both hands through your hair.

"So... your mom actually likes me that much?"

"She never stops talking about you."

The air caught between us in a curtain of quiet as you thought this over and I waited for you to speak. It gave me time to consider you, and your parents.

I had seen them a few times. Not as many times as you had met my parents, but a few times nonetheless.

The seemed to like me a lot, but the dynamic was different in the two families. Your mother was a clean-cut businesswoman, your father owned several establishments in an international restaurant chain.

My mother was a homemaker and my father pushed paper.

Your parents were nice, but they weren't casual.

I guess it bothered me a little, because I was the definition of the Brahm antonym. And I wanted to feel equal to you.

I got so lost in my consideration of your family that I barely heard you when you finally said something about mine.

"I'm glad that she likes me." You flashed a quiet, soft smile. Some hair fell into your eyes, and I reached over to brush it away. "What does your dad think of me?"

"He likes you, too. Though he isn't as talkative about it," I said, studying your face. 

You looked back at me, gray eyes wide and full of thought, the corner of your mouth drawn into a smile. 

I tilted my head back and looked around, yawning. "What does your family think of me?"

You smiled quickly, as though you didn't even have to think about it. "They think you're a pretty, smart girl. They like you."

"But in relation to you what do they think?"

You chuckled softly. "Um... they think you're respectable? I don't know. But they consider us evenly matched, I think."

"Matched?"

"It's an example."

"Oh."

We both held our breaths as someone walked into the area and hoped that they wouldn't see us. When they walked back out, I burst into a fit of silly, breathless giggle.

"Jude, that was ridiculously close. Maybe we should just go out to lunch or something? You could get fired for having me back here."

"You? No. You're harmless." You grinned, and I shoved your shoulder playfully.

"I'm serious! I'm just your average civilian, and you have brought me into the depths of food storage. Consumable goods, Jude Christopher Brahm. That's important stuff to risk contaminating in the name of secretive hang out areas." I raised both eyebrows earnestly and grinned at you.

You leaned forward until our knees brushed each other. "I'm willing to risk it, I think."

"Scandalous! Risking the health of hundreds of people in the name of a silly date." I clucked my tongue at you and smirked when your cheeks turned red.

"It's not a date."

"Oh, whatever. It's totally a date." I grinned, and your cheeks darkened even more. "Don't lie to yourself, Jude."

You rubbed your face with one hand, and I sat back, smiling at the way that I had made you so uncomfortable. It was an evil thing, an evil way to be, but I thought it was kind of hilariously adorable how flustered you were.

All because I proposed that it might be a date.

Wink wink. (Seriously, my dear, you were so cute and I couldn't help messing with you. That, and I sort of hoped that it was actually a date.)

Then, after a minute, you looked up, and you drove the blush from your face with a winning smile. 

I didn't know what to think. "So is it a date? Or not?"

"Not really," you said softly, and I almost sighed. But that smile didn't leave your face, and it occurred to me all at once that perhaps, just maybe, that smile was a little bit suspicious.

Looking back, I want to kiss you then. You knew what you were up to. I had thought that I had you, and then you decide that the game belongs to you, and by God, you're going to play it better than anyone has before.

You've never been one to allow yourself to be whipped. You are a winner, dear.

And you were a winner then, too. I guess that's what I can attest your behavior to.

My heart was beating very fast. With every pulse a battering ram smacked my lungs with enough force to drive the air from them. "Jude, what are you smiling about?"

You didn't answer me in words.

You leaned in. My eyes drifted closed. Our lips touched. I think I froze for a moment.

Then, I considered who you were and I melted. You were Jude. My friend, my 'mutual like.' Someone I could be myself with.

And apparently someone who wanted to kiss me.

I have never been one to disappoint.

I kissed you back.

I think that was the first time that I realized just how important you could be. And when we pulled apart, made up of shaking hands and trembling voices, I saw it in your eyes.

I saw that adventure that you told me about on the first day we met.

~ ~ ~

I remember that kiss like it was yesterday. (I also remember the scolding we received from your boss when she found us back there, still talking.)

Do you remember?

I kiss you sometimes, just softly, sometimes on your forehead or your cheek or your hair. I miss your kisses, though. I miss your hugs. I miss your voice, I miss your laugh, I miss I miss I miss...

It would be easier to list the things about you that I don't miss. Here.

Things I don't miss about Jude Christopher Brahm:

Nothing.

Because I have grown to appreciate everything about you in the last year. Those little quirks that once got on my nerves are now things that I remember and smile about. (Things like leaving your bath towel slung over the foot of the bed or putting the dishes in the dishwasher the wrong way.)

The things that used to bother me were so ridiculous. What I wouldn't give to have one of your 'annoying' quirks back.

I miss you.

And this is kind of random, but you wouldn't mind if I slept here tonight, would you? Because I don't want to go home.

Sincerely,

Aurora (The lonely one.)

. . .

[This chapter is dedicated to silver-sea for the gorgeous cover she made me. Give her a follow, because she is a very sweet person. :) ]