𝐓𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐒 ² || 𝒋𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒂𝒉 𝒇𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒓

𝟑𝟎

A/N || labyrinth - t.s.

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐨𝐡 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐱, 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭? 𝐖𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠. The second he started reciprocating my kiss I knew I was a goner. 

His hands slipped down to my hips and lifted me into his lap effortlessly, not breaking the kiss once. Somehow he was managing to pull me in with his presence, the fact that I was on top of him didn't seem to matter because he would tilt his jaw in just the right way and put just enough pressure on my hips to have me completely in the palm of his hand. 

"Kendall," he mumbled through the kiss and I ignored it in favor of kissing him. "Kendall," he repeated, voice getting lost in the kiss.

I finally pulled away about a centimeter to let him talk, but the boy paused long enough to look me in the eyes, then drop his gaze to my lips, look me in the eye again and grin. 

He whispered, "You're my best friend," before pulling me back into the kiss. Fuck. 

Early on in our dating days, before we were official and when we were sort of just messing around, there's a day that I remember so clearly. We were sitting in his car late at night, going on a drive and enjoying each other's company. My phone was connected and You Are In Love started playing.

We kept exchanging secret glances the whole time and then before he kissed me he whispered, "You're my best friend." and I knew that I was royally fucked. That was the moment I realized that I did truly love him and that–contrary to popular belief–he had me wrapped around his finger. In that moment I knew I wanted something serious with him, that nothing else would matter if I didn't have him. 

The sun wouldn't shine as bright, my car wouldn't smell like his air freshener, my bed wouldn't feel the same, and I wanted him around forever. I knew I loved him more than the best friend I'd known him as my whole life.

In this moment I'm having déjà vu from the immense amount of fear coursing through my bones. It's the same rush of fear, pure exhilaration, and dread mixing into a perfect potion.

I let myself feel the rush as I kissed him harder. He leaned back and pulled my whole body closer to him. There was no space between us, just his hand under my sweatshirt on my waist to hold me down. His other hand was on the back of my neck, controlling the kiss as much as he could from underneath me. 

One of my hands was under his shirt ghosting his sides and abs and the other hand in his curls to tilt his head up. "Fuck you for being hot and perfect,"  I mumbled under my breath as I pulled away for a second and didn't wait for his smirk before I was kissing him again. 

"Didn't know all I had to do was get you on top of me again," Jeremiah whispered the next time we pulled apart and I hit his chest and rolled my eyes and then we were making out again. 

"Fuck off," I mumbled and he held me a little closer.

"Love you too," Jer whispered back and we finally started to slow down. The kiss got sweeter and slower, but the high started to crash faster than it had built. The excitement crumbled and all that was left was the fear and dread compiling in my chest. 

It got slower, more rhythmic, and I could feel every emotion he was pouring out. I could tell he was scared, scared to let go of me now and scared to lose me in general. It brought some comfort that he was as nervous as I was, but it didn't help enough. Our tears mixed into the salty kiss, but neither of us seemed to care.