Chapter 48: Chapter Forty-Seven

Sometime around four a.m, I jolted awake.

This time, it wasn't because of another nightmare. I just simply woke up out of nowhere, my eyes suddenly sliding open. My mind was hazy as my brain started to work, and then I remembered how I had called Jonah earlier.

Trying not to make a sound, I sat up slowly on my bed, and I immediately spotted Jonah lying on his side on the floor next to my bed, with my kitten sleeping against Jonah's back, as if they both had each other's backs as they kept watch on me. It was adorable. I could see the way Jonah's eyes closed peacefully, his lips drawn in a straight line, and his chest rising up and down in a steady pace. One of his hands was placed under the pillow, and I could see that he was freezing a little, his shoulders slightly shivering every few seconds.

I immediately felt bad that I had let him sleep on the floor, but at the same time, I couldn't help but feel touched that he chose to stay here with me. I silently got up and lowered myself on the floor next to him, admiring the way he restfully looked as he was sleeping.

There was a light snore coming out of his slightly open mouth, and my lips pulled into a little smile. He must've been so tired—he was asleep when I called him and I ruined his rest, and it probably had taken him a long time before he successfully fell asleep again.

I spent a long time on the floor, keeping my distance from his body so I wouldn't accidently wake him up, just looking at him and watching as his chest rose and fell. His forehead knitted every few while as if he was thinking deeply, before it relaxed again.

I kept thinking about how lucky I was to have him right here, sleeping next to me as he kept guard on me and my nightmares. Months ago, I wouldn't even dream about coming face-to-face with Jonah Gibbs without wanting to piss my pants, let alone having him in my room. He was more than everything I could have hoped for, and I was glad that I had chosen to fall in love with him and not anyone else.

By some weird twist of fate, he also chose me to let into his life. What saddened me was that I really wanted to say that it really was just life's natural way of drawing us closer, that it really was just fate, but really, I was the one who forced my way into his life, and it was simply luck that he let me, because I truthfully didn't expect that it would work. I didn't regret it, but sometimes I wondered what he would do if he knew.

And I couldn't help but felt guilty.

After a while, I moved closer to him and lightly brushed his cheek. His eyes immediately flickered open, and he was staring at me in confusion as he blinked slowly.

"You're a really light sleeper," I whispered. "I'm sorry."

"What are you doing down here?" he croaked out. I smiled and lifted one of my shoulders in a shrug. "It's cold here."

"Yeah," I said, my fingers still on his cheeks.

"Did another nightmare wake you up?" he asked softly, his eyes showing concern and fear. Fear. For me.

"No," I told him honestly, then I said to change the topic, "My bed is way more comfortable, you know."

He cracked a smile, but there was still a hint of worry in his eyes. "Then why aren't you there?"

"It's lonely up there," I said teasingly.

"We wouldn't fit," he said as he placed his own hand on top of mine. "I'd just end up kicking you off the bed."

I laughed lightly. "I wouldn't doubt it."

He reached over and grabbed the blanket from my bed and placed it on top of my body and his own. It wasn't a really large blanket and it barely covered us, but I didn't feel like going downstairs and getting another blanket from the storage room.

"What time is it?" he asked once we were snuggled under the blanket.

"Around four," I said. "What time will you be going home?"

He shrugged. "I called my mom and told her I'd probably be staying here for the rest of the weekend."

"And she lets you?"

He shrugged.

My forehead knitted in confusion. "Why?"

"I don't like knowing that you're home alone."

I chuckled. "Jonah, I've been home alone before and I was fine."

He rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I'm staying here. I'll go home to get my clothes later, but I'm staying here," he said, before pulling the blanket up to his chin. "Now let's go back to sleep."

"Okay," I said with a smile, and he smiled back before closing his eyes.

I spent the next five minutes awake, watching him sleep again, before finally falling into a dreamless sleep, right after I felt his arms slowly wrapping around my waist.

[]

When I woke up a few hours later, Jonah was already gone. In the space where he previously had slept was baby Ant, still soundly asleep and purring slightly. I stretched a little bit, followed with a huge yawn that escaped my mouth, and I moved closer so I could hug Little Ant in my arms.

He meowed sleepily as he tried to get himself comfortable in my arms. I rubbed under his chin and he brushed his head against my hand with his eyes closed, before falling asleep again. True to Jonah's words, Ant wasn't a very hyperactive cat. He was a total sleepyhead, but I didn't mind because he looked so adorable when he slept, just like Jonah.

Just I was about to fall back asleep—I was still very sleepy—a sudden cry rang out from the other side of the room, and I jumped up in surprise. Ant was startled awake too, and he was blinking in confusion before falling back asleep despite the noise. I honest to god almost forgot that Daisy was still here since she rarely cried anymore—which was a good thing, really—and I immediately got up to put her back to "sleep".

I thought about Daisy and how she had somehow helped bring me and Jonah together. There were a lot of reasons to hate her—how many sleeps she'd ruined, how many kisses she'd interrupted—but if it hadn't been her, Jonah and I wouldn't have been here in this position. I was still nowhere to calling her as my own baby, but I had actually grown fond of her. I think I was going to miss her once we return her back to Mr. Herberg next Monday.

A few minutes later, I got up and went into my bathroom to take a shower. I took my time under the water, singing to myself as I washed my hair. It was probably thirty minutes later when I finally went back into my room with a towel wrapped around my body and another on my head.

Little Ant wasn't on the floor anymore and I guess he had woken up and ran downstairs since I had left the door open. I closed it as I unwrapped the towel on my head, and I walked toward my closet to get clean clothes, but I stopped when I passed by my bedside table.

I bit my lip as I stared at the photo frame that I had forgotten was there, and reached down to pick it up. My thumb brushed against the back side of the frame, itching to open it up and pull out the photo, but before I could do it, the door suddenly opened and I gasped in surprise, the photo frame falling onto the floor, the glass breaking into tiny shreds.

I kept my arms firmly over my chest as I looked over my shoulder at a gaping Jonah.

His eyes were widened and his lips were parted in surprise. Slowly, he closed his mouth and gulped, his eyes raking me up and down, and I felt my cheeks burning as I tightened the towel over my body. Man, I was completely naked if it hadn't been for this towel!

"Jonah! Get out!" I hissed in embarrassment, and it was as if he was finally pulled out of his reverie. "Get out!"

He blinked rapidly and mumbled something incoherent before hurryingly turning around and slammed the door shut, and I sighed in relief. I immediately locked the door and went toward my closet, ignoring the broken frame, and quickly put a t-shirt and sweats on. Once I was dressed, I went back to the pieces of broken glass on the floor and slowly picked the larger pieces up and put them in a small plastic bag I'd found in my drawer.

I paused when I noticed the photo that had fallen, and at my state of distraction, I accidentally cut myself. I hissed slightly, watching as the blood dripped down my finger, but I ignored the stinging and picked up the familiar photo and brushed my other finger over it.

After a few while of just staring at it in silence, I shook my head and put the photo inside my drawer before returning to clean the mess on the floor. It took about five minutes until I got all the pieces of broken glass from the floor, including the tiny shreds I had swept with a broom, and once I got it all done, I walked downstairs to meet a still red-faced Jonah, sitting stiffly on the couch, his eyes on the blank TV screen and his fingers tapping on the remote mindlessly.

My face warmed again when I remembered that Jonah nearly saw me naked, but then again, he did dump water on me and saw my red bra, so I was almost familiar with that kind of embarrassment, especially with the fake nudes scandal. I couldn't say the same for him, though. I cleared my throat and he jumped up, his eyes widening a bit.

"Uh, hi," I awkwardly said. "You really should've knocked."

"Sorry," he spluttered. "I didn't—I didn't mean to... I didn't know—"

I chuckled. "It's fine. Yeah."

"You should've locked the door," he told me as he rubbed the back of his neck. "But, uh, sorry again."

"No, I'm sorry. I just forgot," I said. "But can we just... umm, can we just forget about it?"

"Yeah." He nodded vigorously and immediately turned around to take a paper bag on the coffee table. "I brought breakfast," he said, still awkwardly, and I took the paper bag from his hand. He frowned when he saw the cut on my finger. "What happened?"

"I dropped a picture frame," I said, waving it off. When I looked at him, his face was still slightly red, almost like the blood on my finger, and he was still acting a bit stiff, so I laughed. "Jonah, come on. Just forget it, alright?"

"Alright." He bit his lip and shook his head. "Alright," he repeated to himself in a mumble.

We ate breakfast in silence, despite my attempts to make things not awkward between us. He was still slightly stuttering and the red on his cheeks refused to go away, even though I was no longer feeling embarrassed anymore. I kissed him once we were done with breakfast and he tensed for a while before relaxing into the kiss, and it was only then that he started to act normal around me again. Weird kid.

There wasn't much we could do in my house, but we both were feeling too lazy to go out—plus, it was too cold outside to have a good day out. We spent the late morning watching random TV shows and played with Ant, and then he cooked me some meal to eat at lunch before going to work at the diner.

He almost dragged me to go to the diner with him so I wouldn't be alone, but I refused and chose to stay home. I didn't feel like going out today. He almost decided to take a day off just because he didn't want to leave me by myself, but my glare won and he finally left for work after making me promise to call if anything happened.

Honestly, Jonah probably needed to be away from me for a few hours, because I could see that he still suddenly went tense or awkward around me. The half-naked incident still bothered him and I didn't want to spend the whole day watching his reddened cheeks every time he touched me.

The cut on my finger was already wrapped with a band-aid, so I didn't have much trouble reheating the food Jonah had cooked once lunch time came. After I was done eating, I went up to my bedroom and started to work on the rest of the final assignment for Mr. Herberg's class. There were still a lot of papers to work on—Jonah had already done his part but I hadn't finished with mine—so I spent the rest of the afternoon typing down all of the details from the project we had been doing for the past few months.

Typing eventually got boring, so I started to edit the videos I had taped with my phone during these months, picking out the good moments and the ones when we weren't kissing—because we kissed a lot when the camera was on. I made sure that Daisy was always in it, because she was really the center of this whole project. Jonah and I had decided that we would make separate videos, so I made this whole home-movie look like it was truly from my point of view.

I was so focused on the video I was editing that I didn't realize that Jonah was already off work until he suddenly came up and hugged me from behind. I laughed as his chin slightly tickled me on the shoulder, and I lowered my laptop so he couldn't see the video I was working on.

"How was work?" I asked as he twirled my study chair. He no longer seemed like he was still embarrassed by the earlier incident, so I didn't bring it up.

"Eh," he said with a shrug. "Same old, the usual. I'm thinking of quitting the job soon."

I frowned. "What? Why?"

"I initially only worked there just to save money, to buy Clara a new laptop." He cringed. "I accidentally broke her old one."

I tsked. "So you've already bought her a new one?"

He nodded. "Just bought it a few days ago."

"Well... it's up to you, I guess," I told him with a shrug. "But in my opinion, you're one of the best employees there. I don't think my dad's gonna let you go that easily."

He smiled. "Well, he does give generous paychecks, so I'm still thinking about it. Might as well start saving up for college."

"Alright," I said.

Daisy started crying, so I got up from my chair and went toward her, but Jonah beat me to it. I ended up watching as he changed Daisy's diaper and rocked her until she shut up. He no longer seemed like he hated doing it—it almost looked like he was doing it naturally. He put her back into the crib once she was done crying, and turned around to meet the smile on my lips.

"What?"

I grinned. "Nothing."

"You always say 'nothing' when there's obviously 'something'."

I went up and kissed him to shut him up. "I'm just curious to see you with actual babies."

"Well, babies still scare the shit out of me, so," he said with a shrug. "This one doesn't wiggle around."

I tilted my head to the side. "Do you want to have babies one day?"

He eyed me weirdly, but I just laughed and kissed him again, before saying, "Let's go downstairs and watch some movies my sister left for me."

[]

I had fallen asleep through the third movie we watched—Jonah had surprisingly put up with Nicholas Sparks movie marathon, even though he whined a lot—and when I woke up to Daisy's cries sometime around ten, I realized that Jonah had carried me all the way to my bedroom. And I slept through all of it.

He had his back turned to me with the doll in his arms, and I watched him in silence as he rocked her back and forth and hummed a song at the same time. She didn't cry for too long, so Jonah put her back into her crib and stood there for a while, staring at the fake baby without a word, before turning around and seeing that I was awake.

"Hey," he said to me, coming up to sit on the bed. He softly ran his fingers down my hair, and my eyelids slowly drooped as sleep pulled me back under. "Go back to sleep, Hannah," he softly said.

I nodded sleepily. "Where will you sleep?"

He smiled and gestured at the floor. "Down there."

"You'll be cold."

"I'll be fine."

"Blanket in the storage room," I mumbled to him and he pressed a kiss on my temple just as I completely fell back asleep.

Sleep didn't last long until the dreaded nightmare returned full-force. It was nearly the same as the one I had the night before—something dark red-colored crashed into me and the only thing I could see was red all over myself. The one that shook me the most was the face that I saw and the matching blood red all over them. The face was clearer tonight, and they had their brown eyes wide open and I was begging to get out of the car, but the door was jammed and no matter how much I banged against the door, it wouldn't open.

Jonah caught me mid-scream, his hands grabbing my moving arms, his face not even three inches away from mine. I was gasping, sobbing, and shaking, and he looked so scared for me. I wanted to tell him that he didn't need to worry about me because I was fine, but the truth was, I wasn't fine at all. I wasn't okay.

He slipped under the blanket, positioning himself so we both would fit in the small-sized bed, and he pulled my body into his arms. I tucked my head under his chin and both of his arms wrapped around me as I cried into his chest. He said nothing as he rubbed his palm up and down against my arm.

His own hands were trembling as he put my face in his hands. The look on his face was unreadable, but maybe it was just because I was seeing everything in a blurry mess. He swept my messy hair into the back of my ears and shakily kissed me on the forehead, right on my scar.

I was sitting on top of his legs, exhausted from the nightmare and the crying, and Jonah let me lie down on his chest. I was still trembling and the tears still fell from my eyes, even though it wasn't as bad as before.

"Everything was red," I mumbled shakily, but I knew he could listen to me clearly. "I think—I think it was a car that crashed into me. It was dark red. Maroon. Just like the blood. So much blood, it was all over me."

His body slightly tensed.

"I don't know what happened in the crash, but this one seemed so... real," I said with a sob. "Before, there were earthquakes, explosions, monsters, fucking vampires," I continued with an empty laugh. "But this was just... this was just a crash. And I almost could feel the pain. There was just so much blood. Jonah, I can still feel it everywhere."

I cried into his chest again, and he slowly tightened his hold on me, almost fearfully.

"It was dark and there were so many trees. It was snowing," I babbled into his chest. "I could feel it—I was freezing. I was driving through an endless road. I didn't know where I was going or where I was driving from. It was just so dark and then I crashed and I just want it to stop, Jonah, please make it stop," I begged. "Please make it stop."

My trembling hands fisted the front of his shirt and he buried his face into my hair, whispering words that I couldn't make out. I didn't know how long I cried or how long we stayed in that position, and at some point I started to wonder if Jonah could still feel his legs right now, but he didn't seem to mind me laying on top of his body so I didn't move. I couldn't. I didn't want to. I wanted to stay here where we were, where I could feel the safest even after this terrifying dream.

"It's alright, Hannah," he kept saying into my hair. "You're alright, you're with me, you're alright."

I nodded as his voice began to soothe my fear. He kept kissing my face and saying my name over and over again in a hushed whisper, almost as if he was singing me a lullaby, and I didn't know how long it took but the tears finally stopped falling, and the shaking finally ended.

I was alright. I was with Jonah, and I was alright. I was far away from that nightmare, far away from that accident, and I was safe here. I was safe. I was fine. I was okay.

My nose clogged up so I sniffled a bit, and Jonah gave me another kiss on my temple. "Tell me what I can do to help it, Love," he said softly. "Tell me what I can do for you."

"Just stay," I croaked out, my voice ugly and scratchy. "Like you always do."

"Alright," he murmured. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

"Please don't ever."

"I promise I'm not going anywhere," he vowed. "Anything I can do, just tell me, okay? I hate seeing you cry. It hurts me to see you like this. I don't know what to do to make you feel better."

"I'm sorry."

"No, don't apologize."

"I don't mean to hurt you," I sniffled. "I don't."

"I know you don't," he soothed. I took a few deep breaths and nodded. The nightmares couldn't hurt me, and it wouldn't hurt Jonah as well. Jonah then asked softly, "How are you feeling?"

"Better. Thanks to you," I answered honestly, still repeating the chanting in my head. I've got Jonah here and the nightmares can't touch me. I am alright. I am fine. "You always know how to make me feel better."

"I don't think you're right," he mumbled. "I don't know what to do. I'm helpless."

"That's not true."

"All I do is just hug you. That doesn't do much."

"Well, it does make me feel better," I told him softly. "So thank you. For being here. For staying with me."

He didn't say anything to that. Instead, he asked, "You really can't remember what happened that night?"

I knew I should be feeling worse now that Jonah decided to bring it up again once I had just stopped crying, but I felt like I needed to tell him. "I'm starting to think that I really did crash into another car," I told him. "It just felt—it made sense. But I don't really remember it."

"Do you remember what happened before?"

"Before the accident?" I asked, and he nodded. "I remember that night. I remember getting into the car and driving to places, and I remember why I was out there driving. But I don't—I don't remember what happened after," I told him in a murmur. "Everything's blurred out whenever I try to think about it. I tried asking my parents, while I was in the hospital. They wouldn't tell me anything. Just that I was in a crash, and that I was lucky. And then we barely ever talk about it."

He paused before asking quietly, "When did it happen?"

I took a deep breath and told him, "The night of Thanksgiving, 2010." I heard him take a breath sharply, and felt his body froze. He was slowly pulling away, but I took his hands back in my hands. "I woke up from the coma in the middle of December. I was almost paralyzed waist down, but after months of therapy, I regained feelings in my legs. Eventually walked again."

"If you—if you knew who crashed into your car," he said shakily, pausing to swallow, "what would you do to them?"

I tried to think, but my mind came up blank. I never could remember what happened during that night, let alone thought about the possibility of seeing the person who crashed into me—if that was really what had happened—so I shook my head. "I don't know, Jonah. I don't even know what happened and I don't want to think about it."

"But—okay," he said, nodding his head dejectedly. "Alright."

I closed my eyes for a moment, before biting my lip and sitting up. Jonah slowly followed, and I moved around to face him on the bed. "I want to tell you something."

His forehead knitted as I grabbed both of his hands. I noticed that his hands were still slightly shaking, and I frowned at them. I noticed his eyes weren't really focusing anywhere, and it was as if he didn't even hear me say anything. But he then murmured, "What is it?"

"I lied to you," I started after taking a deep breath, "about liking you after the soda incident."

"What do you mean?"

"I—" I bit my lip again, swallowing thickly. "I've liked you a long, long time before that, Jonah." I closed my eyes and took another deep breath before opening my eyes and staring straight into his eyes. "The first time I saw you—first day of freshman year. I was in depression after the car crash and some family issues, and my parents had me see a bunch of therapists instead of talking about it directly with me. I was slowly falling to pieces, and then—and then I saw you," I paused and smiled a little bit as I recalled the day when I first saw him. "You were walking down the hallway, alone, and you were eating this red apple with your earphones stuck into your ears, ignoring everybody else. At one point you looked up, and our gaze met for a second, but that was enough for me.

"It was just a silly crush, but I've liked you since then," I quietly admitted. I darted my eyes down and stared at his fingers in-between mine. "Whenever I saw you, I just felt better and I didn't even know why. I started to think less about the accident, because all I did at school was keep myself from blushing whenever you walk by. I liked you so much and somehow it helped me better than a hundred therapists ever could. I know it sounds stupid," I told him softly. "Now you're here and you're everything I've ever dreamed of—hell, you're more than what I could have ever wanted, and I—" I looked up at him, but what I saw made my heart immediately fell.

He was frowning, his eyes anywhere but on me, and his lips opened and closed a few times as if he wanted to say something, but couldn't.

Fear started to rush into my chest, and I tried to intertwine my fingers with his, but his fingers were stiff. "What is it, Jonah?"

When he started to shake his head, I felt like I was about to break into million pieces—just like the pieces of glass from the frame I had dropped earlier.

"Are you mad at me?" I asked, almost stupidly, my breath turning rapid. "Jonah? I'm—I just—I know you didn't expect this and I'm sorry that I lied to you, but I'm not sorry that I've liked you this long, Jonah. You've made me so, so happy and you're everything I've ever wanted and I—"

"Stop," he said quietly, his head shaking vigorously. "Don't say it. Please, Hannah, don't say it."

"Don't say what? That I love you?" I was nearly in hysterics, confused and scared and and hurt and a little angry at the turn of the conversation, and my heart was beating so fast it started to hurt. "Jonah, I love you. I really do—"

"You can't say that to me. Okay? You can't," he exclaimed, and I stopped, my jaw slack and my heart falling onto the floor. "You can't love me," he mumbled over and over to himself, and I was crying to myself.

"Jonah, I love you," I cried. "You can't just tell me not to—"

His head was down when he cut me off, "I can't do this, okay?"

I was reduced into whimpers. "What are you talking about?"

"Please stop saying that you—you can't," he cut me off, and when he looked back up at me, I saw tears in his eyes. But it just made me feel angry, so, so angry.

Why couldn't I tell him that I loved him? What was so wrong with me loving him? I knew I lied to him. I never told him that I'd always liked him, and that our 'first' meeting wasn't accidental at all. But for the life of me, I couldn't understand his harsh reaction.

My hands shook when I clamped them on my trembling lips in a vain attempt to hold in my sobs. Jonah slowly got up from the bed, leaving me with my own unreturned love and my fucking dignity on the floor. How could I have read it all wrong? I thought after everything, there was a chance that he could love me back. But apparently, the thought of me loving him disgusted him this bad.

Jonah paced around the room, walking back and forth with his hands in his hair, mumbling incoherent words to himself as I cried on my bed. We were a mess—we were pieces of ripped paper flying around, blown away by the wind, but I still couldn't figure out if I was the paper or the wind. I couldn't understand why he wouldn't love me back. I couldn't understand why he was crying when I said that I loved him. Why he jumped out of bed and put distance between us. I thought he loved me too.

So I tried again, because I was Hannah Taylors and I didn't give up. I knew he loved me—I just needed to bring the words out. Just like I did with the soda, all I had to do was break through his walls. "Jonah," I said as I wiped the tears from my eyes. "If this is about you leaving people behind, I don't care. You've promised you'll always stay and I know you won't go, so why can't you trust yourself?"

"It's not about that, Hannah," he cried out, finally stopping in his tracks to look at me. A thousand different emotions from fear, guilt, sadness, anguish, and everything else I couldn't place.

"Then tell me what's wro—"

"I drove that car, Hannah!" he yelled. "That car was my dad's, and I drove it the night of the Thanksgiving, four years ago!"