Your Voice Is My Alarm Clock (A Jon Cozart And Thomas Sanders Fanfic)

Chapter Twenty-One

Thomas Sanders's POV

I wake up with a loud gasp. At first everything is calm. Then, the dread of the nightmare strikes, and I feel tears brimming my eyes. Then, I take in my surroundings. I sit up and take a shaky breath.

I am in Jon's living room. He invited me over, and we are going to make a video soon. So that means he is in his room sleeping.

I want to go in there. I want to go and tell him everything I am keeping from him. I want him to hold me and tell me everything'll be alright. That he'll never leave, and never let me leave.

But I can't.

I start trying to recall the dream.

Nightmare, my mind recalls.

All I remember is argueing with Jon, begging him to come out of a room. I don't remember exactly what we argued about, though it must have meant a lot to Jon. The only other thing I remember is how it felt to have blood soaking into my socks. But whose blood was it? I don't think it was mine, but I don't want to believe it was Jon's. What could I have said to him or not say to him that would make him...make him...That could never happen.

Right?

I rub my face, lay down, and grab my phone from the table. I turn it on to see it is 4 am. I sigh and check my notifications. I see Tyde sent me another text at 12:18 pm:

Hey Tommy!

How is being held captive by a 60-year-old woman? Lol, jk. I just wanted to tell you that I am thinking of you and I miss you. If you ever need to talk to someone, I will always be here to talk to. I love you, Thomas. Forever and always.

Your BF,

Tyde Alexander

As I am reading his text I realize that he used to term 'BF.' At first, for a split second, I think it's a typo. I think it's Jon, accidently calling me his boyfriend, and me secretly liking it. But it's not. I guess, technically he is my boyfriend. He did ask me out and I did say yes...

I stare at the text displayed on my screen.

...if you ever need to talk to someone...

I think back to the dream. The way Jon was breaking down....because of me....

I click reply, knowing if I don't tell someone about my dream I would never get to sleep.

Tyde,

Hey it's me Thomas. I mean I know that you know that...

Cringing I delete that. I sounded like an idiot.

Tyde,

The 60-year-old is quite nice to me actually...

Shuddering I delete that too.

Why can't I talk to him? I talked to him for the whole plane ride but I can't simply send him a text? I think.

Because now he matters to you more.

I shake my head and I glare at my screen.

Pretend it's Jon. The idea pops in my head before I have time to type another word. Suddenly texting Tyde seemed ten times easier.

Tyde Alexander,

Hey. Sorry for not answering your text earlier. I had just arrived at Jon's house, and I was getting settled in.

How was the rest of your trip? Did you make it there alright? I was thinking about the whole ride here and I miss you too.

I pause and think. Do I want to tell him about the dream?

I decide to play it cool. I continue:

I am sorry for texting back so late. I had a horrible nightmare and couldn't fall asleep. I just needed to talk to someone and Jon is sleeping.

Thanks for letting me vent.

I love you, Tyde.

Love,

Thomas Sanders

(Hey! Y'all are looking wonderful today! Thanks again for all you do! I better go, class is in session! You know the drill! BYEEEEEEEE)