What This Could Be | A Joe Jonas Fanfic | Book One

Chapter 25: My Own Flower Color

*Taylor's POV*

"Can I ask you a question since we're on the topic of siblings?" I inquired, relieved to know that Lucy wouldn't be part of our conversations any longer.

A half-truth was better than the full truth. Well, more like my half-truth was my full truth. He wasn't ready. Let me rephrase— I wasn't ready.

"Shoot," he made himself comfortable, taking one of the pillows and holding it against his chest as he laid partially down.

"Nick mentioned you guys didn't talk for a few years," I said, "Why?"

"I honestly wasn't expecting that," his facial expression exhibited him to be dumbfounded, "Uh, to make a long story short, he broke up the band years ago."

"I know," I disrupted, "A quick google search told me that. But why choose to have no contact with him because of it?"

"It's a day I really try not to remember, to be completely honest," he replied, "Or more like my brain doesn't let me remember unless something triggers it."

"Wait," I put my finger up as a pause before rushing to the bathroom, taking my contacts out and grabbing my glasses out of my suitcase. In a slightly seductive, yet joking manner, I put them on and snatched Joe's yellow notebook off the side of the bedside table, "Okay, continue?"

"Hold up, you wear glasses?" his eyes widened as a large grin overtook his face, "I've never been more attracted to my therapist in my life up until now."

"I had to play the part!" I teased, "So, how did it make you feel?"

"Can we just skip to what I feel now?" he swiftly scooped me up onto his lap, my knees bent on each side of him as he trailed his fingers down my body.

"If I knew glasses turned you on, I would've stopped wearing contacts a long time ago," I provoked, setting his notebook down.

Using his index finger and thumb to pull my chin, he lured my lips close enough to feel his breath, "It's not the glasses that's turning me on. It's you."

"We can't just fuck it out, right?" I suggested, grinding slowly against his bulge.

"We definitely can't," he agreed, leaving no room for air in between our lips any longer.

Knock, knock, knock.

"Ugh!" I groaned, collapsing onto him in deep sexual frustration, "It's Liv."

"How do you know?" he asked while I walked to the door.

"It's a thing we do," I explained, pulling the handle down to reveal Liv, "It's always three knocks."

"Sorry," she stated with guilt for ruining Joe and I's time to make-up, "Can I talk to Joe for a second? Alone?"

"Are you okay?" my best friend senses were tingling.

"Joe?" she ignored me, looking past at Joe who was now getting up with concern.

"I'll be right back," he mumbled as they walked down the hallway and into a room a few doors down.

My heart stung. That was my best friend. My best friend that no longer needed me. I had been replaced all because of my stupid mouth. I was so afraid of losing her from cancer, I ended up doing so by my own doing.

I found myself curled up in a ball under the covers, trying my hardest to suppress tears from falling.

The door opened, Joe walking in alone with a somberness. "Sorry, bub, I—" he paused, seeing my tears spilling down my face, allowing myself to be vulnerable in the comfort of his presence, "Babe, hey, what's wrong?"

"I'm losing everyone," I burst out into a blubbering mess, covering my face into his shirt once he rushed over to me.

He coddled me in his arms, rocking me softly, "What makes you think that?"

"Everyone I love leaves me," I managed to speak while my sobs took over my body, "I never thought I'd be losing her while she's still physically here. I'm trying so hard to control it, but it's never good enough. I'm not good enough. I'm a mistake. You said it yourself. It's only a matter of time before you leave too. That's why I'm so scared to let you in fully, because if I do, you'll leave too. I wouldn't be able to handle that."

"You haven't lost either one of us," he brushed his fingers through my hair, kissing the top of my head, "She's still extremely hurt, but she loves you. You're still her best friend. She told me that herself earlier."

"I know something is wrong," I affirmed, "I know it. I'm not dumb."

"She asked if she was able to fly back now," he explained to make me feel included, "Her doctor wants her to do an emergency scan tomorrow. She said it wasn't anything to worry about."

"Which means it's something to worry about," I acknowledged, knowing Liv all too well.

Joe knew too. His silence spoke volumes.

"And you?" I sniffed, not wanting him to think I was evading his part in my breakdown.

"You not including me in your life is what's pushing me away, not the other way around," he answered, "I want to see your world just like I want you to see mine. And you're not a mistake. I never said you were."

"You said me meeting your daughters would be a mistake," I clarified, my breathing slowing down as I started to catch my breath steadily.

"It's still a concern for me," he continued to let himself hold me, "but you've proven to me that you're willing to put in the effort to make us work."

"Because I introduced you to my very embarrassing, non-tech savvy parents?" I removed my glasses for a few seconds to wipe my eyes.

"Yes," he heard his smile through his voice, "and because you're willing to answer questions you've been avoiding. All I've been asking for is honesty."

"Ask me another one of your questions," I faintly spoke.

He pulled out his phone, where I assumed he had written his list, "What's your favorite color?"

"Really?" I asked slightly grinning, "That's actually one of your questions?" He always knew how to cheer me up.

"I never said all the questions were deep and thought-provoking!" he smiled down at me.

I sighed, "Don't make fun of me, but black."

"Black?" he questioned, "Well, that sucks. I'm pretty sure black flowers aren't out and about in its natural form like every other color."

"Black flowers?" I questioned, "Why black flowers?"

"Because black is you," he conveyed, "and for me, you're everywhere. I wanted you to have a specific flower color that embodied you. To give me that physical form of you when I'm not able to, you know? But no, you just had to pick black."

Did he really just give me a flower color? "Joe," I whispered, him having no idea how much that small thought really meant to me, to my family.

"Yeah?"

I wanted to say it. I really wanted to say it. But I couldn't. Not now.

"I really really like you," I said instead.