rogue

fourteen

I'm already lying in my bed, but my thoughts are a mess, so sleep is not an option.

Minutes or hours pass as I lie here, surrounded by silence and darkness.

Where the hell is he?

The door makes a creaking sound, making me squeak in surprise. "Finn," I say under my breath and place my hand on my chest, right over my furiously beating heart. "Damn it, you scared the shit out of me."

The light from the hallway floods my room, and I see Finn standing in the doorframe, already dressed in his boxers.

"I'm sorry." He whispers and takes a few steps into my room. "I-" He trails off and looks at his feet.

I chuckle and lift my blanket to let him crawl under it. "Come 'ere."

"Ugh, yeah, I was thinking... That bed is really small and-" I drop the blanket and gape at him.

"You want me to come and sleep in your bed?"

He shrugs, and I can see a small smile appear on his face. "I sleep better next to you." My heart gives a little squeeze as the words leave his mouth.

How could I tell him no?

Without further words, I get out of bed and take his hand. "That's convenient. I sleep much better in your bed anyway. I think you have a better mattress."

"Ha ha, funny." He pinches my bum and kisses my naked shoulder as he follows me into his bedroom.

I crawl under the covers, and Finn shuts down the light, seconds after which he spoons me from behind - pulling me flush against him. His left hand immediately finding its usual spot right under my breast, and his legs automatically tangling with mine.

"How was that work thingy of yours?" I mumble into the dark.

"Good, good." He replies sleepily. "I may have rethought that thing about me wanting to tell it to my parents first." I say nothing, I let him finish his thought first - something tells me that it's not easy for him to talk about it right now. So I won't push him.

I can feel him inhale deeply against my back before he lets out a shuddering breath. "You know how Bill and Sawyer went to see a therapist after Annie died - like we all saw one. But they don't know what it is like. They tell us that we're going to feel better, that time will heal our wounds and all that crap. And... my mom is actually the one who gave me the idea that people who suffered but who overcame that somehow can help a whole lot better than people who've never - not once felt grief in their life." I turn to face him and look at him in awe.

"You want to become a therapist?"

"Something like that, yes. I want to work with people who have lost someone, and I want to bring them together somehow. That they can talk with someone who knows exactly what it is like."

"Wow, Finn. I don't even know what to say. That's... Incredible." I whisper and brush my lips over his because I can't - not even one second wait any longer to touch him. "You're incredible." I kiss him again.

He smiles against my lips. "That's what I've been doing. I met up with Bill and Sawyer and other couples who lost their child, and we talked... For hours, we just talked, and I think it helps them."

"And does it help you?"

"It's not about me, Chloe. It's about them." That's where I think he's wrong. He should take this as an opportunity to deal with what happened better. Because I know that he still fights with himself, he still blames himself - he is not feeling better.