Ethan's POV
I obviously hadn't fallen asleep, and I started to feel like Emma, lying awake for hours, overthinking. Usually, it was Grayson that I had to comfort, the sensitive bitch. But tonight, I tossed and turned. It was 2 AM and I still hadn't managed to close my eyes. Around 1, Grayson had padded into my room, kindly telling me to 'shut the fuck up and go to sleep', and when I told him why I couldn't, he sat at the edge of the bed, rubbing my back. He spewed bullshit about how it was meant to be, and that maybe Emma would be in the same place that I was in a few months. When I asked him if he really thought that Emma didn't like me in that way, he didn't answer.
I wasn't blind. Either Emma is a flirt, or something else is keeping us apart, I told him. He pinched me.
"Stop being so paranoid and...aggressive, E. That will drive her away, if anything. Just let some time go by and let whatever needs to run its course, run it." Grayson explained.
"What does that even mean?" I exclaimed, beside myself.
"Okay, I'm leaving. Get some sleep." Grayson said, getting up.
"Sorry, sorry. It just sucks, man." I said quickly.
"I know, bro," he said empathetically. "I know."
He stood at my doorway for a moment.
"Goodnight," I whispered.
"Love you."
"Love you too," I replied.
And here I was, 2:07 AM, still awake. I knew Grayson was asleep, I could hear faint snoring from his room across the hall. And then something tugged at my gut. It tempted me to drive to Emma's apartment. It begged and pleaded for me to get up and go to her. And just as I began to truly think about giving in, my phone rang. I jumped, startled, and scrambled to pick it up.
"Ethan..." a soft voice said.
"I'm coming over," I replied. "Hang on."
I pressed 'end call' and scrambled to put on a shirt. Texting Gray where I was going so he would know in the morning, I stumbled outside. Thankfully, I wasn't tired at all, and empty highway got me to Emma's in record time.
I knocked on the door. No answer. Good thing I knew the code. All the lights were on.
I walked up the stairs. Her bedroom light was off, but since there weren't any walls, light filtered in. She was curled in a ball facing away from me. I quietly slipped my shoes off and laid down on the bed beside her. The dip caused her to turn around. Her splotchy tear-streaked face I'd seen so often made my heart sink deeper than usual. Because I knew I was the cause.
"Thank you for-" she whispered, but I silenced her by pressing her into my chest, patting her hair soothingly.
We stayed like that for a minute, and I savored every second that I felt her delicate hands pressed against my chest, and her small nose buried in my sternum.
"I'm sorry, Ethan," she said, muffled by my shirt. She pulled her head away. "I'm sorry I can't be with you, and I'm sorry we met like this, and I'm sorry that you're constantly taking care of me. I'm so, so sorry."
"I'm not," I whispered back, tucking her hair behind her ear. "I'm here for you, Emma. Always. I'm sorry that you don't have feelings for me, too. But that doesn't mean we can't be friends."
"But, Ethan, I do have feelings for you."
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