Heads or Tails ?

Chapter Forty-Seven

Jules' pov

Climbing onto the sofa next to where Liam is laying isn't an easy task, he's a pretty big guy and I'm not exactly a light weight either, and no matter how large the sofa actually is I still need to move him a little bit so I can lay down and cuddle up next to him, and I'm very worried that I'm going to hurt him.

I manage to push him further against the back of the couch, not without struggle, and make myself enough room to lay down beside him. 

His eyes are closed softly and he looks... relaxed, calm.

Which is about the opposite of how I'm feeling at the moment.

After we gave him some blood earlier and carefully stitched up his wound, I went to the kitchen and grabbed myself a bottle of a nice... strong whiskey, before I came back into the living room to stay with him.

I wasn't planning to get shit faced drunk, I just needed to numb my feelings a bit.

And a bit of alcohol was the best option to get myself to fall asleep... or at least relax a bit.

Everyone has been in their bedroom for a while now, and I might have drank just a little too much, but at least now I feel calmer, a lot calmer.

I stayed on the chair next to the couch for a while, running my fingers through Liam's hair and just staring down at him, thinking the same thing over and over again until the words blurred out in my brain and it seemed like nothing made much sense anymore.

Open your eyes,

Please.

His wound isn't exactly good but the bullet didn't hit any organs or arteries or anything actually serious, so he'll wake up eventually, I know he will.

I just wish he would wake up soon... right now actually.

And I want him to be okay, when he does wake up.

I shuffle closer to him and roll onto my side, grabbing a blanket under the coffee table and draping it over the both of us.

My arm instinctively moves to wrap around Liam's stomach, but I thankfully stop myself before I actually can touch him, and instead move my hand further up his body and rest it on his chest.

I slowly run my fingertips around the soft skin, one of the only spot on his upper body that isn't full of ink and drawings.

I watch as chills erupt under my touch, the sight bringing a tired smile to my face.

Even when he's passed out his body always reacts to my touch, like he just knows it's me. I lean closer and press my lips to his forearm, pressing a few kisses to his skin and feeing how warm he is against me.

He's always so warm.

So warm I have to shove him away from me in the summer so I don't end up burning alive. 

Right now I would give everything that I have to have him wrapped around me, whether it's in a freezing bathtub or in a fucking boiling room, I'll take anything.

"Goodnight baby." I murmur, moving further up his body and pecking his cheek before I rest my head on his shoulder and hook my leg over his, needing to be as close as I possibly can to him.

"I love you, I love you, I love you..." I whisper the words over and over again, like maybe if I say it enough he'll wake up just so he can say it back. 

He always says it back.

Hell he's pretty much always the one who says it first, not because he loves me more than I do, but simply because it has always been easier for him to express his feelings and talk to me about them.

The first time he told me he loved me all those years ago, I ran out of his apartment and slammed the door behind me, not turning back until I was miles away from his building. I was so fucking scared of the idea of actually being in a committed relationship, being in love.