Twenty-Nine // J.G.

twenty-two.

Day 19.

     M A R L E Y     

His arms were never a bad thing to wake up in, I could tell you that – I always felt safe and warm and wanted because that's what Jack does. He makes you feel all these things, and even when you're sure that they mean nothing, there's always that one moment where you question if there could be even a slight possibility that he's into you. And I hated those moments with a burning passion, hated the false hope, hated him for thrusting all these foreign emotions onto me. But there wasn't a single fiber in my body that sincerely hated him because I had finally figured out the answer to the unfamiliar tingles in my gut whenever we were together.

I had developed a crush on Jack Gilinsky.

My first crush that wasn't a face on a poster on my bedroom wall, an attractive stranger, or a fictional character. He was real, and he knew me, and in less ways, I knew him. The boy I tried so hard to get away from had inched his way into my life and now I'm not so sure that I want him to leave. I sighed, wriggling in his loose embrace to turn around and look at him, suddenly having no desire to get up after spectating his sleeping habits. He was a snorer – I caught that long before I decided to abandon my own bed for his nightly comfort – and even though I despised anything but silent nights, I didn't mind it. His hair was a riddled mess in a sort of appealing way, and every now and then his nose would twitch, causing me to stifle my laughter as I wondered what could be going on in his dreams. Then there were his lips. The way they parted just so made my insides churn with unfamiliar desire and I imagined what it would feel like to have them against mine.

"No, Marley, stop that." I scolded myself, but apparently it wasn't quiet enough as Jack began to stir. I felt his biceps flex beneath me as he stretched out his limbs that I'm sure were dead under my weight from the night. "S-Sorry, did I wake you?" I squeaked, fearing that he would figure out that I was watching him.

"No, you're fine, baby." He hummed with his eyes still closed, then snuggled right back up to me, nestling his face into the crook of my neck while readjusting his firm grip around my waist. My breath hitched in my throat and I laid motionless within his entanglement, tense and lost in terms of what to do or say next. "Don't be so stiff..." He murmured, trailing his fingers up and down my back.

"You're.. You're pretty touchy today." I observed to distract myself from the ever-soothing rhythm of his touch. Usually in the mornings he would wake up, order our breakfast, then get on with the day. We hadn't had much progress when it comes to intimacy other than him cuddling up to me in the middle of the night, long after I've fallen asleep, when I have no sense of it.

"Am I?" He paused to reflect. "I guess I just had a good night."

My heart rate spiked. Were the other nights not good? Had something changed for him to think better of this particular one?

"A good night as opposed to...?" I trailed off, referring to what he thought about every other night that we spent sleeping together because right now I felt as wanted as a pizza crust left on the ground.

"I didn't mean it like that, Mar." He chuckled before resuming his mindless finger-dancing on my back. "I've had the best time sleeping with you, baby. I just– I don't know. Felt really good yesterday and it correlated into my sleep."

"O-Oh, okay." I nodded solemnly, knowing that I was going to tear myself apart today wondering what in the world could have put him in such a good mood. In a way, I sort of felt jealous because I wanted to be something that could make him happy, even as just a friend. This whole time, he's claimed to have me all figured out with no problem while I'm left to suffer through my endless curiosity about the workings of his mind. It scared me to not know what he really thought about me.