A Hero in the Dark: 2nd Edition

Chapter 119: Botched Proposition

I wake somberly to the sound of music, a not-so-old song playing on the radio. "You Could Be Happy," I think is what it's called. Snow Patrol. It's a nice song; it's soft and promising.

"Enjoying the music?" alien boy asks. I'm on his lap!

"Maybe," I answer coyly, sitting up slowly, though I'm hesitant to. "It's nice."

"It's fitting," he corrects, a melancholic smile sitting on his face. "At least to me."

"I'm sorry," I say.

"For what?"

"Well, for us," I squeak, careful not to speak too loudly in case the driver hears. But when I look over at her, I see that she's got headphones in. "I didn't mean to make such a big deal out of it. I don't hate you, you know. It's just, I was upset, and I got carried away."

"I know. You had every reason to be," he claims. "I was being an asshole and a jerk. I should've told you how I felt instead of taking it out on you in... uh, in bed." I think he too is worried about the driver hearing us; his cheeks turn light pink. "I should've been more open with you."

"And I should've never lied to you about Iceland. Maybe if I didn't, we wouldn't be like this now."

Bae shakes his head, tucking hair behind my ear. He lifts my chin 'till I meet his eyes again. "You were hurting," he says, as if that gives me an easy way out; I know it doesn't. I know that better than anyone now. "I'm not surprised you hid the truth from me."

"Yeah, but that doesn't give me reason to lie."

"I guess we both have work to do then."

"I guess so."

We sit in silence, and only then do I realize that it's still dark outside. I wonder how far away we are anyway. But before I can ask, John's rubbing the back of my hand with his thumb. I look up at him. "Can I ask you something, Emily?" he asks. I nod. "How bad was it?"

"How bad was what?"

"In Iceland, when he manipulated you," he clarifies. "Earlier, you said you wanted it. You said the spark was already there and he just gave you the coal to light the fire. So, how bad was it? On a scale of one to ten, I mean; one being you didn't really want to die and ten being you did."

"I—"

"Be honest," he pleads, gripping my hand now like his life depends on it.

"Ten," I answer, a little ashamed to admit that, and I feel him suck in a breath. "It's been that way since my last birthday. Not from this year; I mean the one before that, when I turned fifteen."

"Emily..."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I just didn't know how to and—"

"No, I'm not mad. I just... I wish I knew. I wish I noticed."

"If it helps, I never felt that way when I was with you, so it's not your fault if you didn't."

"Not even that night?"

"No," I assure him. "I was still happy; happy with what I got, I mean, but unsatisfied because it wasn't enough, you know?"

"I know," he says, leaning in close. Our foreheads touch, and it's the best feeling in the world. Anything of John is the best feeling in the world. "I still feel horrible for that."

"Don't," I plead him. "We just went over this."

He smiles at me, an utterly adorable boyish smile that I can't help but lean into. "I really want to kiss you right now," he says. "Is that ok?" Again with the okays.