Justin and Mere’s bedroom, 8:01 p.m.

I suck in a breath and relax as the pleasure runs through me, tickling me all over and easing into a calm, not a stop, but an even state.  He kisses up over my stomach, in between my breasts and I arch up into him as he comes completely over me.  He’s smiling, that damn smile that he only shows me, curious, wide eyed, half shocked, half arrogant as hell.  I love it.  It’s him, controlled man and desperate boy wrapped up in one.

I kiss him and I love it.  I love the way he tastes and I love the way his mouth and tongue feel against mine.  It’s comforting and soothing and so damn smooth.  He keeps kissing me as he pulls my leg up over his hip and I can feel him there, pointing and poking and he smiles against my lips and just slides right in.

Damn….

I groan at the feeling.  You’d think I’d be used to it, that after us always being so hot for each other, and especially after the past two weeks I’d be used to it, tired of it maybe.  But I’m not.

I’m fucking addicted and I need him all the time, and he’s so generous and I love him.

I fucking love him so much.

He enters me over and over and I hold on for dear life.  I hold on and the echoes of the passing thunder boom and rumble around us as his body continually meets mine again and again.  It started raining pretty heavily around lunch today and the wind picked up.  This is more than just some afternoon storm at the beach.  Apparently a tropical depression has passed by us and we’ve felt the effects.  We locked ourselves up in our house and before it started to rain a couple guys that work here came by to make sure everything was tacked down and no towels or surf boards or anything were loose out on the porch.

We watched a few movies.  The lights flickered once and thunder clapped really loud right near our house as well.  Justin laughed at me when I screamed.  I can’t help it.  It was sudden and loud and scared me.  We made dinner together, we took a nap, we talked, we even both tried to read the books we brought.

And then he started to smile and I started to smile and it was dark outside and the thunder and lightening were drifting off and the rain was still pelting down and he started to rub the skin that on my side, under my tank top…

And now we’re here, naked and he’s inside of me.

I scrunch my face up against his shoulder and hike my legs up as high as I can, bent on either side of him.  He gets even deeper and I groan and kiss at the skin on his freckled shoulders.

“Please Justin…” I beg, I whine and he gives it, grunting out cuss words as he pounds and pounds into me.

It feels so good and I can’t stop myself.  I hold onto this body, gripping his back, feeling his muscles move against my fingers.  His hips are wild in between my thighs and I shake my head, knowing this is a sin, knowing it feels too good to be something that I could enjoy.  Too perfect, too fucking much.  It goes on for hours just him, going and going at this steady pace, my hips meeting up against his, my body bucking and aching for his.

It lasts forever.  It lasts only seconds.  Hell, I don’t know.  I just know that I can’t take it anymore.  It’s built to this point and it’s too much and I keep thinking about how his body feels, all sculpted and warm and smooth.  I keep thinking about how we must look all naked and wild and rampant.  I start thinking about how perfect this vacation has been, just us, no troubles, no problems, just us enjoying each other in complete privacy.  Then I keep thinking about how he was fingering me on the couch a little bit ago when this first started, all slow and kissing me like it was the last time we’d get to do it, luscious and slow, so fucking slow.  Everything’s so slow but it’s going so fast.  He’s going so damn fast…

His hands were everywhere earlier, all on me and in between and touching and gripping and moving me and positioning me so his mouth could taste what he wanted.  God he does that so well, too, pushing back my thighs, spreading my legs apart, looking at me like ‘hold on little girl you won’t be able to take this’.  He’s so fucking good at eating me out and it makes me feel amazing to know that he seems to get so much pleasure from it, that he likes doing it, not just because he knows it makes me feel good but because he actually likes it. 

But now his hands are straight into the mattress and his mouth is opened breathing deep above me and he just keeps going and going and I can’t take it.

I…I need him to come in me.

“God, Justin…p-please.” I’ve got nothing left in me as I feel my orgasm crash into my body, but it keeps building and building.  And I can’t take it.  I’m nothing but high pitched groans, begging him to do this to me, to fucking make me come.

Please Justin, fucking come in me…

And he does and it, shit, it….

“Fu-uckkk.”  I tighten beneath him and bite into his shoulder and he groans and jerks holding himself in me, deeper than anything I’ve felt. I squeeze him inside me, my arms and legs gripping him tight until I can’t help it. I can’t stand it and I let out a breath, open my eyes and collapse into a puddle of nothing as his dick finishes me off.

God…he just finished me off.

I can’t hear anything but his jagged breath in my ear, and I can feel his heart thumping in his chest, beating into my own. I try and catch my breath and I pull my arms up from the bed and let my hands touch his back.  He shivers and I rub him there.  A minute passes, his heart beat has slowed and there are goosebumps all along his back and spine.

“Shit...” He breathes less than a whisper beside me.  And I hold him for a moment, pulling my arms tighter around him and kissing his neck softly.

He groans loud.

And then starts to laugh, deep and quiet.

“What?” I ask curiously, quietly.

He pulls back and smirks at me, “You know what.” He then pulls out and I whine and curl up as he flops on his stomach to the left of me.  I look over and his eyes are closed, mouth opened and face smashed against the pillow.  He lies flat there and I curl up to him and stare at him.

I never thought that I’d be with someone I’d be this attracted to, this in love with.  And it’s not just in love with him as a person, but it’s his body.  God, that sounds so superficial, but it’s more than that.  Ok, yes he’s attractive, hot as Hades, whatever, but honestly most of that for me comes from his demeanor.

His body I love.  I love the freckles on his shoulders and the dots of his spine on his back.  I even love the curve of his tiny, tight, pale ass.  And his arms.  God, I love his arms.  They’re huge, but not scary.  And when he’s lying just like this, they just look big.  When he’s working out, if he flexes them, you can see the amount of work and muscle that’s there, but lying like this they look soft, smooth, but not as sculpted as when he’s in the gym.

I don’t make any sense sometimes and sometimes I have a hard time coherently putting together my thoughts on him, on us.  I dip in and kiss his upper arm and stare at the design of his cross tattoo.   It’s one of these things you wouldn’t notice unless you were up close, but the inside of it has this design, this pattern and it’s beautiful. I take the tip of my finger and look at him for a second to make sure his eyes are still closed.  Then I press my finger lightly to the bottom of the cross tattoo.  I trace along it. 

I can’t help myself and I lean in and press my lips to the center of it.  I open my mouth and suck lightly. I hope that’s not like sacrilegious or something.

I move my eyes to the ceiling above and say in my head, ‘Sorry Jesus, if it is.’

Justin groans and I look up at his face with my mouth still pressed against him and he’s looking down at me through half opened eyes, smiling.

“Hey…” he says gravelly.

I blink and smile. “Hi.”

“What are you doin’?”

I move my eyes from his and look back down at his arm and shoulder, studying it meticulously. “Memorizing your tattoo.”

“I’ve got more you can memorize.”

“Those on your legs are weirdoes.”

I look up at him with a smirk and he opens his mouth in half shock but it morphs into a yawn.  He turns and I can no longer study his cross tattoo.  He flops on his back and crosses his arms over his chest.  “Well thanks.”

I ignore his playful anger and curl up to him. “I like that one.”

“Me too.”

It only takes a moment of my head against his shoulder before he unravels his arms and moves one behind me and pulls me snug against him.  It’s something that to this day makes me feely jiggly inside, to know, to realize that he loves touching me, he loves having me close.  He doesn’t care if I ‘suffocate’ him.  I can read him and I know when he wants space, but I know the majority of time he likes to have me close, he likes to have me right by his side. 

I know if I keep thinking like that I’ll start to giggle so I turn my face into his neck and say, “I love you.”

He turns, his arms fully around me now, us on our sides, completely pressed together.  “Mmmm and I love you.”

I press my forehead against his chest. “You just love me cause you got laid.”

“Yes, I got laid to pieces by the sexiest little thing on this planet.”  He shivers for a moment and groans.  “God damn girl, I think part of me is still cumming.”

He holds me for a moment before letting me go, sliding to the edge of the bed and pushing off of it. 

“Where are you going?”

He turns back to me and stumbles, smiling, “To get something…”

I push myself up on the bed. “You’re acting like your drunk or something.”

He braces himself against the entranceway to the bedroom, completely nude.  I take him all in and bite my lip at the site of his body all right there for my viewing pleasure. 

He widens his eyes, “I think I am.” I roll my eyes and he asks, “You want a drink or anything?  I think I might need a shot after that shit.”

“I just want water thanks.” He nods and I hear him loudly shift down the steps.  I sigh and look up at the ceiling, contemplating going and turning on one of the ceiling fans.  My body is hot and it seems kind of humid in our house.

I lay there and stare at the stationary ceiling fan and wonder what will happen when we get back to LA.  I know this trip has been crazy, but it seems like in a way, I still haven’t been able to process or enjoy being at home.  I was on tour and now I’m on vacation and I don’t really feel like I’ve been back home.  Justin’s spoiled me.  I’m not going to want to go back to work after this.  He’s made me lazy.

He says differently, that by the time we land in LAX I’ll be so ready to get back to work and tired of him and ready to be on the move again that I’ll be pushing him away and calling up Angie immediately.  Yeah, right.  When I told her I was going on this trip with Justin she didn’t say much.  I know she was upset, and I don’t know why.  Before I went on tour she told me I would have a month off after the tour to do whatever I felt like, those were her words.  I just don’t understand why she’s always so back and forth about me and Justin.

I guess sometimes I choose to be blind.  I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not, or if it’s just being really stupid.  I know sometimes I hide behind him, I hide within him and ignore everyone and everything else.  I should face other people straight on and not act like Justin and I don’t affect other people or that other people don’t have opinions about us.  I know Angie does, she thinks he takes me away from where I need to be.  I know Courtney—actually, god, I don’t know what she thinks and I wish I did.  Life would be so much easier.  I’ve done a damn good job forgetting about her and her drama since I’ve been here but I can’t help it coming back up now and again. 

I wanted it to work out so badly and maybe it was my fault, maybe I was too cautious at first.  Maybe this whole damn thing is my fault.  I really did want to get along with her, I really did want to be her friend.

And I think part of me, somewhere, really did like her, despite her attitude 90% of the time.

I don’t know what it is about me but I have this presumption that my life is supposed to be perfect and drama free.  So when shit does happen I like to ignore it, I like to hide behind my boyfriend and let him take care of every little thing.  Maybe that’s why he was so intense and stressed out on tour, cause he knew he had to handle my shit.

But even though that might be what I think that’s definitely not what happened.  I seemed to be handling everyone else’s shit on tour.

I sigh and rub my face over my hands.  Why am I getting like this?  I’m having a fantastic, easy day and I don’t want my night to be ruined. 

I hear heavy footsteps and turn my head to see Justin coming in the room with something in his hand, some material, his fist closed over it.  There’s no glass and no water.

“Where’s my water.”  I pout.

He stops mid step, his eyes shift uneasy and his smile is nervous.  “Oh um…”

I point to his hand as he gets closer to the bed. “What’s that?”

I haven’t seen Justin look this nervous in a while and my stomach starts to drop as his knee presses into the mattress and he shuffles closer to me on the bed. “A present.”

“Ohhh k…”  I lick my lips and reach down to pull the sheet over me as I push up so my back is against the headboard.  I’m cold now and he’s staring at me, just fucking staring.  I nervously bumble, “When have you gone out and bought me a present?  And where?  Cause if there’s a Bloomingdales on this island that you haven’t told me about I’m gonna be mad at you.”

He lays on his side near me on top of the sheet and drops what’s in his hand right on the mattress between us.  It’s a dark blue velvet bag with a silver draw string.  “I bought it in New York.”

“Is it a holiday I don’t know about?”  I still say nervously.  I’m pretty sure there’s jewelry in there and I don’t know if I’m nervous because he only gets me jewelry on very special occasions and maybe I forgot to get him something…

….or because of something else. 

“No, I just…”  I look up at him as his eyes focus unmoving on the bed and he chews on his bottom lip.  Why…why is he so nervous?  “I’ve just been waiting.” 

I gulp and shift down against the pillows.  He finally takes a breath and looks me in the eyes as his hands work on the bag.  He loosens the opening and out falls a little blue velvet box.  “Ya know, for the right time and moment and right now with it raining and us just laying here together I figured…I figured it would be a good time to ask.”

My eyes immediately widen and I feel my heart stop.  Don’t tell me he’s about to…. 

“Justin…” 

He laughs and puts his hand up.  “Don’t worry I’m not proposing.” 

I sigh. 

Relieved. 

But somehow…not. 

His hand drops and he shrugs.   “I mean, not really…”

I don’t say anything.  I don’t know what to say and when he finally looks right at me, looking like the sweetest thing in the world, I can’t help myself and I say in a harsh voice, “Please don’t tell me there’s some promise ring or something in that box.”

His mouth drops for a moment, but I see he’s smiling.  “Thanks, way to be romantic, Mere.”  He laughs, pauses and gets serious again. “No…there’s not a promise ring.”

“You’re freaking me out!” 

He scoffs and looks at me with a pout in his face.  He doesn’t seem nervous anymore and I like that.  It makes me feel more at ease, but not completely.  His mood seems to be shifting back and forth easily.

“I got to tell you the story first…”

“Oh my god…” I groan and shift under the sheet entirely and cover my head, moaning out, “My stomach is killing me.”

He doesn’t say anything and after a good thirty seconds of silence I pull down the sheet and peek out at him.  He stares at me and then shakes his head before speaking, “So Trace and I went out a few times in New York and I went to this jewelry store I always go to cause I wanted to see if they had anything for you or mom for Christmas or birthday or something, or if they had anything they could make for me.  I like to be ahead of the game on stuff like that and well…”  He takes in a huge breath and then rushes out faster than I’ve ever heard him talk, “Anyway, I don’t know how it happened Mere but he started showing me diamonds.”

Part of me wants to throw up.  The other part of me doesn’t know what to do but just stare back at him and whisper, “Oh my god.”

He opens the box and I shift my watery eyes down to it.  It’s not a ring, but just a small stone in a tiny plastic bag inside the box. 

“And I saw this one…and I don’t know.  It’s like this special unique cut and it’s like I don’t know anything about it, but its supposed to be like the clearest shit in the world and it’s from this place in Africa that like doesn’t use like child slave labor…”  He’s rambling and fumbling with the bag, trying to get it to open. He sighs and says, “god Mere I don’t know.  I just…saw it and….I wanted you to have it…” 

He pauses, picks up my hand and drops the diamond into it.  I keep staring at the stone as he talks, just looking at how it sparkles even in the dim light of the bedroom.  “Whether it was a necklace or …or a ring…” 

I look up at him slowly and he’s just staring at me.  “Maybe one day, a ring?” He shakes his head immediately and shrugs.  “And I went ahead and bought it because it’s so rare and I knew if I didn’t someone else would get it.  And I just looked at Trace and he said I should get it for you and I could figure out what to do with it later. And...I know it’s not like huge but…”  He smiles a little.  “I knew you wouldn’t want it huge.  And it just…it’s you…small, but clear and simple and sparkling…and the cut is really unique and…”  I start smiling and I can’t stop.  I even cover my mouth with my hand.  He looks at me. 

“And I’ve ruined it by being cheesy.”

 “So…”  I drag out, choosing my words carefully, not really believing what I’m hearing from him.  “One day, you think…”  I lick my lips that feel dry, “we could…”

He shifts down on the bed and touches my face with his hand.  “Yes…”  He smiles.  “So in a way it is a promise if you want it to be.”

I nod and say, “So you kind of are proposing.”

“I’m not ready to be married and I know you aren’t either.  But maybe if we make it, if you put up with me for another couple years, then maybe I can take this back and have something made of it.”  I find myself just staring at him, taking him all in as he lays beside me, pressed up against his right arm that’s holding him up. 

He hangs his head and says in a whisper as if he doesn’t want anyone else to hear but me, as if someone else could hear, as if this is some dark secret he’s held in side of him for a while,   “I want to marry you Mere…”  He still doesn’t look at me but I see him shake his head.  “Not right now, but I do want to…”  He looks at me for a moment before looking back down at the stone still in my hand.  “And that’s what this is.  I just want you to know that it’s not something that I think might happen or that really even scares me anymore.  It’s going to happen and dammit, it better happen with you.” I keep staring at him, I can’t look at the stone, I can’t even blink.  I can’t look at anything else but him.

Even when he’s nervous and stumbling and quiet like this, he’s fucking perfect to me.

I take my time and put the stone back in the tiny back and place it in the box and close it, leaving it on the bed.

He’s perfectly quiet and I don’t know what to say.

“You’re not saying anything.” He says in a tiny voice after a minute.

“I can’t,” I choke out.

He stares at me, biting his lip, eyes wide and staring right into mine, so unsure. “Does that mean you’re mad….”  I can’t help it and I lunge for him and push him back down against the bed in a hug.  He laughs and says, “Or does that mean I’ve made you the happiest girl in the world.”

I mumble against his chest, feeling my eyes start to water and cry.  “Happiest girl in the whole wide world.”

His body relaxes under mine.  Even though the sheet is tangled between us I feel so close to him.  His hands are in my hair and against my back and I hear him sigh out to me, “I love you mere.  God I never thought it could be this way, ya know…” 

I pull back and look at him, close to his face, so close.  I lean in and kiss him for just a second.  “And I know we’ve just had a good couple weeks and I know it’s still really new with us.  I mean, what like 5 or 6 months.  That’s long but it’s not that long.  It’s just sometimes if feels like it’s just started and sometimes I feel like I’ve known you all my life and…and…” 

He rolls his eyes at himself and I see color flow into his cheeks for a moment and he dunks his head down.  I love how even with me he gets shy, hell especially with me he gets shy.  Justin’s quiet but he’s not a shy guy and you can’t get him to blush easily.  I like knowing I can make him blush.  “You know I have trouble really speaking my feelings for you sometimes and I think that’s just because it baffles me...it’s this thing that’s  so big and so strong that I can’t even explain it to myself, let alone you.  And I want you to know so bad…cause we’ve had problems and I never want you doubting my feelings, even when I get grumpy and mean and…”

I wipe at my eyes and say, “I don’t doubt you.  At first there was some uncertainty about stuff, but not now Justin.  I think part of me has always known how strong this was, but sometimes my brain gets in the way and over thinks things…but I love you…”  I clobber him again in a huge, tight hug.  “God, I love you so much.”

“I love you so much…”  He says, thick with emotion.

I smile against his shoulder and pull back, realizing we need to take a breath and chill out.  It’s getting intense and heavy and crazy, even for us.  “I’m really glad we’re on this island because if any one was near us right now we’d kill them by making them gag to death.”

He laughs and nods, stretching beside me. “We are kind of gag worthy sometimes.”

“I like it.  I mean, it’s like….” I push myself off of him and look down at him, not being able to hold back my smile.  “We are that annoying, perfect couple.  But I know and you know that we have issues and problems.  I just think we’ve figured this out, we’ve figured out how to not let those problems and issues fuck up what we work so hard at.”

“Yeah, cause I’m kind of a fucked up mental case.”

I nod. “That’s true.”

“Hey…”  He pokes at me and fakes being hurt before rolling over on top of me.  The sheet is a mess between us and the diamond is probably lost within the covers.  “You know who else is a fucked up mental case?”

“Me?” I say looking directly at him.

“No, well yes…”  I stick my tongue out at him.  “But you’re cute….”  He leans in and kisses me.  It deepens for a moment and I think of nothing more I want to do but to lay here and kiss him.

But he pulls away, sighs and says softly, looking distantly at me.  “Trace.”

“Oh…”

It amazes me how we can go from being so into just us to this.  I know he thinks about Trace and thinks about what’s happened this past summer.  I know it messes with his mind, but he keeps a lot of that in and I have a hard time knowing what to say to him about it.  I think coming here with me was a way for him to hide from that part of his life, but since he’s been here I know he hasn’t been able to keep his mind off his friendship with Trace.

I know Justin very well.  But Trace knows him better.

He pulls off of me and I see the little blue box and pick it up immediately and put it on the nightstand on my side before we lose it.  Justin fumbles with the sheet before getting it and pulling it up over his waist.  He sighs and puts his hands behind his head.  “I worry about him Mere, and I worry that no matter how cool me and him always have been, maybe I fucked up this summer for him.  Maybe it was all my fault.  Maybe, despite what he’s said, maybe we aren’t as good of friends anymore.”

“Justin…”

He ignores me and keeps talking and I just listen. “I want him to have what I have.  He had his heart broken more than any man I’ve seen with Elisha, and maybe Courtney was good for him.  Maybe I was too far gone in my own world to see it.”

He stops for a moment and is staring out into space.  I push myself up beside him against the headboard and say, “Ya know Justin you did some shady shit this summer that I’m not too proud of you for.  But I’m over it.  I’ve forgiven you and I think Trace has, too.  You can’t go back and change things, but you can’t be responsible for everything Trace or Courtney did or didn’t do.  They’re adults and even though I can be silly and girly and whiney, if they want to really work at it and be a couple, they’ll have to grow up, get over themselves and put some effort into it.  I know people say that I just got it lucky with me and you, but I put effort into it.  I put so much effort into this.  It’s hard work being with you and I know its hard work being with me…”

His eyes look sad and I hate that we went from this great moment with us, to this.  But I suck it up and deal with it cause I know he needs me.  I get that.

“But I love you and I need you and you make me feel like I can do anything and that…”  I sigh.  “That makes it so easy.  Even when it’s hard, it doesn’t matter cause loving you is easy.  If they want their love life and their relationship to be easy and perfect…then they gotta put work into it and not get defensive about it.”

He’s quiet and still staring right out into space.  “People might look at you and think, god she’s hot…”  He turns to me and has a small smile.  “But ya know, you’re fucking smart as hell, too.”

I nod my head and say in a snooty voice. “I did graduate top ten in my high school class.”

“Really?”

“Kay, not really but I was a B student. That means above average.”  He smiles, laughs softly and shakes his head. 

I just sit there and wait for him to speak. It always takes time with him, but as long as I give it to him and don’t pry I know he’ll open up to me.  I put my hand against his head and thread my fingers through his thick curls.  Sure enough he sighs and after a few quiet moments he says my name so softly “Mere…”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t wanna go back.”  It’s a sad voice and a tired voice and I’m not quiet sure what to make of it.  He’s so ….I don’t know what the word is, but one minute I’ll think I have him figured out and the next he’s so mysterious or something.  It sounds cheesy but it’s true.  He’s so guarded and quiet, even with me sometimes, and sometimes it just makes me a little more cautious.

“What?” 

He turns and puts an arm around me, pressing his cheek against my stomach.  “Let’s just move out here.  I can just buy this place and we can live here.”

It scares me.

It scares me because I know he’s serious.

And I can’t have him being serious.  Sometimes I think there’s things that go on with him, things he thinks, stuff he’s been through that I don’t know about, that I won’t know about.  I’m ok with that, but it just makes me realize how much he needs me, how he needs me to balance him, to take moments like this, make them playful and light.

He needs me to bring him back into reality.

“Like the Professor and Ginger?” I say with a slight girly squeal.

I need to bring him back into reality, even if doing it means acting ridiculously silly.

He chuckles deeply.  “You remind me more of Mary Ann.  I always liked Mary Ann.”

“You’d get bored with me after a while.  You’d need a studio and a stage.”

He sighs, “I used to think so, and maybe part of me still does.  But sometimes when I think about it, all I need is the feeling I’ve had the past few weeks.”

“What’s that?”  I’m still trying to be playful but I don’t know if it’s working.

He pushes himself up and looks right at me.  “I don’t know how to describe it.  It’s like being home without all the weird drama and gossip and bull shit that can happen sometimes at home.”  He rolls his eyes and hangs his head.  “Damn, I don’t even know what I’m saying sometimes, Mere.”

He eases down, squeezes his arms around me and holds me tight, sliding me down flat against the mattress with him.   “And you still let me say it and you still listen and even if it’s just random babbling crap you still sit there and listen to me as if I’m saying the most important shit in the world.” He pulls back and looks right down into my face, “Sometimes I just look at you and think to myself, why the hell are you with me?  Because I’m an asshole and a fuck up and I’m not this perfect great guy.  You could easily get someone better.”

I smile and try to not let his intense words take me over too much. “And you could easily get a playboy bunny to make you look good and give you blow jobs every night.”

He smiles distantly. “Ya know a year ago I thought that was what I wanted.  I actually had this conversation with Trace about how Hugh Hephner was the shit, how I wanted to be just like him. But, that’s not what I want.  I think I’ve grown up a lot since then.  God, I used to think I had it all together, that I was this mature man who knew what he wanted and wasn’t going to let anyone get in the way of that.   Fuck relationships, I didn’t need them.  But really that was just the teenage boy in me talking.”

I roll my eyes and smack my hands against his shoulders a little. “Puhlease, the teenage boy in you still talks all the time.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about that…”  I wiggle my hips against his.  He’s half hard and I don’t know if it’s just him being relaxed, being on top of me, us being naked, a mix of the three, or just some need he has.  He gets like that sometimes, when he just needs to be with me.

“You like that.”  He smirks and leans in and kisses me.

I shrug and turn up my nose. “Sometimes.”

“All the time.” But he can see through my bull shit and knows exactly that I want him and need him all the time, whenever.

I used to think I was weak because of it.  But I know that he needs me too, even when I don’t get it, when I don’t understand it, when I think I’m out in the dark as far as possible, he still needs me there.  It’s not a matter of being able to solve all his problems or understand everything he’s going through.  It’s not a matter of him having this break down with Trace or being closed off or me having this psycho summer with a crazy assistant.

It’s about me and him, just us, together.

And that’s it.

People say we live in our own little world, in our own little bubble and maybe that’s true.  I get what Justin’s saying when he claims he wants to move out here and just be us.  It’s not logical and it’s not going to happen, but we could do it and it would work, because no matter how much shit has happened and how much shit will happen, we’ll still have us and our little stupid bubble, our little, pathetic, sappy world, and nothing can happen to that.

Nothing.