Definitely, Maybe, Sometimes. | ✔️ COMPLETED

Chapter Thirty

Over the next few weeks, things seem to fall into place

Jordan and I spend long hours in my room. We'll work together, talk, have sex. Sometimes it's slow and sophisticated, sometimes it's fast and a need.

We're very sure of each other now, we know how to make the other see stars. I feel like no one else on the planet has felt what we do, has sex the way we can.

When I'm not with him or in lectures, I'm with my friends, but even then I am I'm eager to escape back to him. I suppose we're in a little bubble, ignoring everything else.

I don't heed mums warnings, or pay attention to what his family said, I don't shoulder Reigns remarks or Nate's.

Something has me in it's clutches, something so fierce and strong it makes me feel like nothing else matters.

Even the bad days, the ones where he's a real bastard don't seem important. I only want him, I only need him. If I could crawl inside of him I think I would.

I'm in too deep. Nothing anyone can say would tear me away from him. If I thought I loved him before I don't know what to call this now.

Jordan managed to get Reign a date with David, and they're a thing now. Their relationship is so different to ours. They're open to everything.

He buys her little gifts everyday, and she coo's over them like she's never received anything better. They do things in front of us that Jordan and I do in private.

When the time comes, I imagine they'll easily tell one another they love each other. In many ways, I envy them. The freedom they seem to have, completely devoid of angst and worry. David is more obsessed with Reign then she is him. You just know he wouldn't hurt her.

I can't say the same about Jordan. Actually, I think he has the power to hurt me enough that if he does, it might kill me.

I spend most days praying I'll never find out.

Even when I'm in lectures, when I'm supposed to be studying, all I can think about is Jordan. Sleeping with Jordan. Being near Jordan. Having Jordan's body wrapped around mine.

I've become a mindless bore, totally obsessed with the boy in my life.

The logical part of me knows that there is more to life than him, but my heart doesn't seem to want to listen. It wants to bask in all these feelings.

But I cannot rest in it. Though I'm very eager to close the distance between us, I want to keep it the same.

I sometimes think I wouldn't know what to do if we became a cosy couple. It wouldn't feel true to us, would it?

But, a tiny part of me wants him to commit to some kind of future with us. I want to know what he's thinking. How he's feeling. I want to know if he pictures a life with me.

There are days were he retreats so far into himself I think he hates me. Days were nothing can touch him. Where my love means nothing. He discards me as if I'm a used blanket, and it really knocks the way I feel about myself.

Last night was one of those days.

We had had sex. Everything was slow and tender, we built and built. Emotions engulfed me in a way they never had before.

Afterwards, we stayed curled up together, with him wrapped around me. We must have fallen asleep. When I woke the curtains were still open, allowing the street light to filter through.

It gave the room a orange hue and glowed like  something alien. It started raining outside, getting heavy with each passing second. I could hear cars splashing through puddles, water running through the gutters, umbrellas being put up.

I moved closer to Jordan. Everything felt like it was suddenly in high-definition. All of it became so real and vibrant. The room, the orange glow, the bed sheets wrapped around us. Like my senses became superhuman.

"Jordan," I whispered, testing to see if he was awake.

"Mhm?" He grunted at me.

I stared at him, his face had never looked clearer, more stunning. He was just so, so lovely.

I could feel love pouring from me, it took shape, like it was visible. Washing all over him, protecting him. Those tendrils I felt that first night clinging to him. Two souls conjoined. I could physically see what connects us together.

"Jordan." I said again.

"What?" He asked.

"Something is happening to me."

He blinked his eyes open, looking at me. "What? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I feel unreal." I paused. "Literally unreal, I think I'm dreaming."

He closed his eyes again. It was as if I could feel the love in the room with us. A life form, a living breathing thing, taking shape, morphing into whatever we needed.

"Wake up you dick!"

"What do you want?" He half snapped. He was still tired. He wanted to sleep.

"The thing between us. The energy. It's alive. It's here."

He opened his eyes then and frowned at me. It's the only time I've ever brought it up, the energy exchange between us.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know. Can't you feel it?"

A beat. "No. I feel tired. I feel like you're great in bed and have exhausted me."

I was silent. Shouldn't the important thing be that I feel it? But I couldn't believe he didn't. It was so omnipresent, so large.

It was almost sufficating.

I didn't believe he'd never felt it and I wanted to press it. I wanted him to say it.

"You really don't feel that thing between us? You feel nothing?"

He groaned. "You know I feel something for you. I've told you it's never been like this before."

"That isn't what I mean."

He sat up and huffed. "Just say what you mean, then? What is it you want me to say?" He was getting angrier with each second. "You want me to tell you I've never met anyone else who makes me feel the way you do? Well, I haven't. What exactly do you want from me? What else can I do to show you how I feel?"

It was divulging. That isn't what I wanted to happen. The tendrils started shrinking, the thing vanishing. All the vibrancy was shifting into something dark and horrible.

"I don't - this isn't what - what is happening?"

He glared at me and it almost felt like a slap. "I don't know what you're talking about." He said, then he stood. "I'm going to sleep in my room. I'll see you tomorrow."

He left me there feeling dirty. Used. I didn't cry, but I wanted to. I decided if I'm going to bask in the good, I might as well wallow in the bad.

I haven't heard from him since he stormed out.