SKYFALL, Johnny Kavanagh

Crash landing

Johnny's Point of View

She was still holding my hand.

That was the first thing I noticed after the pain started to blur. After the noise in my skull dialled down from a scream to a throb.
After the stitches in my leg stopped feeling like they were on fire and the air in the room didn't feel like it was filled with glass.

Maeve Connor was still holding my hand.

Her thumb rubbed over the back of mine absently, like she didn't even realise she was doing it.
Like her body had decided to anchor itself to mine without asking for permission.

"I have something to say." I said finally.

Maeve looked up, eyes a little red still, cheeks flushed from crying.

She didn't let go.
Didn't blink.
Just waited.

And for the first time in my life, that scared me more than getting tackled ever had.

"I'm not saying this because I'm concussed or doped up or scared I'm about to be wheeled into surgery and wake up with a robot leg." I said slowly. "I'm saying it because I've been trying not to for too long. And I can't anymore."

She tilted her head slightly. "Johnny—"

"I'm in love with you."

Silence.

It was deafening.

But I didn't stop.

"I know you think you're not supposed to let anyone in. I know you think love is something sharp and dangerous. That it's going to burn you if you get too close."

Maeve's breath hitched.
I saw it.
Felt it.

"I know you don't believe you deserve it." I went on, my voice steadier now. "Or maybe you think it's temporary, that it'll rot or disappear or get tired of waiting around for you to catch up."

Her grip on my hand tightened.

"But I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. I tried to be your friend, Maeve. I tried so fucking hard. But I can't be just your friend."

Still no words from her.

So I pushed through.

"I want to be the person you run to when it gets bad. Not the one you push away. I want to be the reason you believe people can stay. I want to be there in the morning when you forget how to breathe and need someone to remind you."

She was frozen.

And I was seconds away from thinking I'd just shattered whatever we'd been building – until she let out a breath.

And kissed me.
Hard.

No hesitation, no lead-in, just her mouth crashing into mine like it was the only thing that could hold her upright.

I didn't even register the pain in my leg.
Couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't move.
I just kissed her back.
Like I'd been drowning in silence and she was the first breath of air.

Her fingers curled into my jaw, her other hand pressed over my heart like she needed proof I was still real.

We didn't speak.

We didn't have to.

Because she was there.

And I wasn't letting her disappear again.

She pulled back just enough to rest her forehead against mine.
Her breathing was uneven.
Her lips were shaking.

"Johnny..." She started, and I knew she didn't have the words yet.

But I didn't need them.

Her fingers slid behind my neck, and I leaned into it, not caring that everything hurt.
Not caring about the bandages or the bruises or the fact that I was supposed to be lying still.
My hand curled at her waist, grounding me, tethering me to the moment like if I let go it would all disappear.

"You're not allowed to do that and then disappear on me." I said against her lips.

"I'm not going anywhere." She whispered, voice shaking.

I kissed her again.

I would've kissed her forever.

Except—

BANG.

The door slammed open.

Maeve practically jumped off me.

"Jesus Christ." Barked a voice. "What the hell is going on in here?"

Coach Mulcahy.

Red in the face.
Arms crossed.
Fury radiating off him like heat.

Maeve scrambled back, already wiping her face with her sleeves like it could undo the last two minutes.

I pushed myself upright, wincing as pain lanced down my leg.

"Coach—"

"I should not be walking into the physio room to find one of my players and a student going at it like it's the back row of a cinema. Out. Now."

I grabbed her wrist. "Coach, don't—"

"I said out, Maeve. And if you think I'm not reporting this to both your guardians, you've got another thing coming."

She went still.

Her face drained of colour.
And something in her eyes – I recognised it.
That flicker of fear that had nothing to do with school discipline and everything to do with whatever waited for her outside Tommen.

"Please don't." She said softly. Almost too soft to hear. "Please don't tell."

Coach didn't move.

Maeve looked at me, panic blooming under her skin like a bruise.

"Maeve." I said, voice hoarse. "It's okay."

"No, it's not." Her hands were shaking again.

Coach cleared his throat sharply. "Now."

She backed up a step.
Then another.
Her eyes didn't leave mine.
Not once.

And I wanted to scream.

Because I'd just told her I loved her, and she'd kissed me like it meant something, and now she was being ripped away by someone who didn't understand.

I wanted to tear the stitches out of my leg just to go after her.

She paused at the door.

Then she was gone.

And the room felt colder without her in it.