𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐅 𝐀 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓, jeremiah fisher

thirteen. i'm here

I HAVE NEVER been as anxious as I am right now.

It's the morning after the party. I've gotten up, brushed my teeth, washed my face, made my bed (a total of five times!), and have been pacing around my room for almost half an hour now. I'm scared to go downstairs because I'm afraid I'll do something or say something in front of everyone that reveals what happened with Jeremiah.

After the kiss, I told Adrian I was going home and left after he called an Uber and made sure I was safe. I collapsed into bed before I had to the chance overthink everything Jeremiah had said and everything I had said. But now that I'm sober and awake, I'm analyzing every single little touch and every word spoken.

For what seems to be the hundredth time that morning, I place my fingers softly on my lips, trying to remember how it felt to have Jeremiah's lips touch them. That kiss had been everything I had wanted since I was twelve. The only thing I ever thought of, dreamed about.

The thing is, though, now that it has happened, I've realized that it isn't what I had wanted.

Yes, I had wanted to kiss Jeremiah. I still do, I always will. But it isn't kissing him that I have always dreamed about.

It's him loving me as much as I love him.

It's him looking forward to seeing me and finding comfort in my arms. It's him wanting to hug me close to him and breathe in my scent and letting out content sighs as he buries his face in my neck. It's him looking at me as if there is no one or nothing else he could possibly adore more than me. It's him wanting to kiss me sober.

A sigh leaves my lips at how impossible it all is. I'm not the one he has feelings for, and I probably won't ever be. Because it's Belly. It has always been Belly. I don't know why I indulged in my love for him last night when I know that all it had been for him is a way to get his mind off Belly.

Building up the courage to finally leave my room, I quietly slip outside and walk down the stairs. I step into the kitchen where, surprisingly, the only one there is the person I had wanted to avoid. The hope of walking away without being seen quickly dissipates as his eyes find mine the second I enter the room.

Although we're on opposite ends, the tension between us seems to grow immensely with every step I take closer to the kitchen counter where he's standing. His eyes follow me all the way there, while I attempt to calm my heart. I sit down on the side opposite to where he is. There's a box of donuts in front of me, so I take a chocolate one out to find something for me to do.

I can feel Jeremiah's eyes on me the whole time. I don't know whether I should say something or leave the room or pull all my hair out and scream at the top of my lungs. I take a deep breath and prepare myself for him to tell me that he was drunk and that it had been a mistake.

Except he doesn't.

He doesn't say anything.

When I look up at him, his gaze turns away from me and onto his phone. I wonder if he doesn't remember, but the way he's avoiding my eyes tells me otherwise. I bite my tongue to stop myself from sighing and instead allow myself to observe him for just a second. He's dressed in his lifeguard shirt and shorts, a whistle hanging from his neck. His eyes look red, a little like he's been crying or rubbing them a lot. There are dark circles under them which worries me. Has he not been getting enough sleep?

His head suddenly shoots up as he sends me a harsh glare. "Is there something wrong?"

I frown but answer him with a question. "Where is everyone?"

He shrugs and simply replies, "Out."

I scoff before I can stop myself as I look down. "And we're back to hating each other," I mumble under my breath.

"When did we ever stop?"

I look up at his blank face and feel cold all over. I straighten my back, and right as I do, his eyes trail down to the side of my neck. He stares at that spot on my neck, and I watch a light coat of pink dust his cheeks before he abruptly looks away and starts to leave. My eyebrows knit together in confusion.

I widen my eyes as my hand slaps over my neck. I rush upstairs and only stop when I'm in front of my bathroom mirror staring at the red bruise just below the left side of my jaw.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I groan as I get out my concealer and cover up the hickey. As if things couldn't get more awkward and tense between us. I close my eyes and rub my head like that's going to stop the headache that's forming.

I just want to stay in and sleep off the rest of the day and never show my face again.

✧ ✦ ✧

IT HAPPENS A few hours after noon.

One second I'm walking back to my room after getting a drink of water and the next, my vision goes blurry and I suddenly feel very nauseated. My heart starts to beat like crazy, and I feel this intense rush of anxiety pass through me. I start gasping for breath, tears starting to form in my eyes.

I can't breathe. My chest is closing. I feel like I'm about to die.

Between the breathlessness and sobs starting to rack my body, it gets harder and harder for me to get oxygen into my lungs. I try to breathe in through my nose, which usually works to stop panic attacks for me but isn't doing much right now. It's just making me even more breathless.

I start to count backward from twenty but the feeling of fear doesn't leave me or calm me down. All I can think about is Mom and Dad and Susannah and Belly and Conrad and Jeremiah. What if something happened? What if something's wrong? My face is wet and tear-stricken as I feel my heart clench. My body slowly falls, and I land on my knees.

Just as the anxious feeling gets too overwhelming, I feel hands on my shoulders.

I can't make out who it is, but they're saying something I can't hear. I'm pulled into their lap with my face resting on their shoulder. Hands rub down my back comfortingly and words are whispered as lips connect with my head.

"You're okay, Dani," the familiar voice whispers into my hair. "I'm here. You're okay. I'm here."

The tight feeling in my chest starts to dissolve at his words and his soft touches. It takes a few minutes, but eventually, the anxiety I had felt is mostly gone.

His arms come to wrap tightly around my waist, his thumb rubbing circles on my lower back. I bring up my arms around his shoulders and sigh into his neck. We stay there like that, wrapped up in each other, for what seems to be hours. My eyes close on instinct and the drowsiness gets to me.

I don't even know when I fall asleep.

✧ ✦ ✧

IT'S DARK OUT when I wake up. My head feels heavy as I sit up. Looking around, I try to adjust to my surroundings. I'm in my room, in my bed. Memories of being comforted by Jeremiah flash through my head, and I go still.

Did that actually happen?

It must have been a dream.

Deep down though, I know it wasn't. It seems too real. Jeremiah's fingers pressing into my back, his lips tickling my skin.

Of course, he would be the one to calm me down. I think he's really the only one capable of it. Back when my panic attacks were way more severe and regular, he had watched hours upon hours of videos about them and how to help someone going through one. He was the only one who could calm me quickly.

Going through that again, having Jeremiah help me, it really brings me back to what it was like for us before. When we were still friends.

I sigh as I lie back down on my bed.

I wish we were still friends.

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 !

hi. hello. stream out of my system by louis tomlinson <3

also 4 days 3 hours  and 15 mins until midnights by tswizzle is out