when the sun came up

ix.

"Well, I call that a great success," Gray announced with satisfaction, once the boys had departed (with much loud singing and many hugs – Jasper kept coming back for more).

Elizabeth was passed out in the armchair, exhausted from her day at work and the long night of socialising, and Grayson ran an affectionate hand over her head before collapsing on the couch himself. He turned his head to look expectantly at his friends.

"I think we should make this a regular thing – what do you say, guys?"

Olivia made a sleepy noise of assent, already nodding off beside her.

"You could always invite Michael," Gray added casually.

That seemed to wake Olivia up pretty quickly. She gave Grayson an exasperated look. "Don't be ridiculous," she scoffed, though it didn't sound entirely convincing.

Gray shrugged, an innocent look on his face. "Just a suggestion. Right, Em?"

Emma, distracted, took a second to respond. She'd been busy making a face at Ethan, who had shot her a lazy smirk and a jokingly rude hand gesture on his way from the kitchen to his bedroom.

6. He can be unexpectedly lovely.

Not often, Emma hastens to admit to herself. But sometimes.

She came home from class one day after having spent the morning in a fevered daze, her head pounding and her throat constantly parched, no matter how much water she drank. Emma had walked back to the loft on autopilot, her temperature off the charts, and pretty much collapsed on the couch in the living room.

She woke much later to find a damp towel on her forehead and a hand pressed gently to her cheek.

"Emma," a voice sighed. "Come on, princess. You have to wake up."

She made an unintelligible noise, burrowing deeper into the couch."

"Em." The voice sounded stern now, and closer to her ear. She moaned a little. "Once you have these meds and drink this water, I promise you can go back to sleep. Okay?"

She considered it. Her head was still throbbing like crazy.

"Promise?" she mumbled.

The voice sounded as if it was trying not to laugh. "I promise."

Emma opened one bleary eye, then the other, very slowly. The curtains had been drawn over the windows, making the loft very dim. She could make out the dark shapes of the television and Ethan's bedroom door in the background. Ethan himself was crouched down in front of her, taking up the rest of her vision.

His face was very close to hers.

"Hey," he murmured, leaning forward to slide his arm around her shoulders and slowly prop her up. "How are you feeling?"

Emma felt too fragile to glare as meanly as she was used to, but she still gave it a good shot. "How do you think?"

Ethan chuckled quietly. "Alright, dumb question. Here, take these and drink the whole thing."

He dropped a couple of capsules into her palm, along with a tall glass of water. Emma swallowed them down, wincing as they passed through her sore throat, and made as if to lie back down.

"Uh uh," Ethan muttered, and then he was unceremoniously scooping her into his arms. Emma squeaked, clutching onto him tightly in surprise, but he didn't seem particularly phased; he carried her as if she weighed nothing more than a laundry basket.

Ugh. Damn him and his stupid upper body strength.

"Huh. That's funny," he said in a mock-thoughtful tone, voice rumbling through his chest from where her ear was pressed against it. Emma attempted to resist the urge to snuggle into him; it was pretty difficult, considering her physically compromised state. "Most girls seem to have more of a positive reaction towards my, ah, 'stupid upper body strength'."

She could hear the grin in his voice, and swatted at him weakly with her hand. "Most girls don't have to live with you and your dirty habits," she grumbled, her head lolling against his shoulder.

Ethan deposited her gently on her bed before tucking her in, drawing her blankets up around her and smoothing down the sheets. He carefully brushed tangled strands of hair away from her face (his hand was cool; it felt nice), and then – Emma couldn't be sure, having dozed off slightly at that point – but she thought he might have leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. Or had he? She vaguely recalled a circle of warmth branded on her hairline, but to be fair, she was borderline delirious for the next two days. So it was entirely possible she'd dreamed it up.

Emma usually hated being fussed and fretted over when she was sick. It was something which had caused many arguments with Sophia in the past, who couldn't understand that Emma just wanted to be left alone to lick her wounds and recover in peace. But Ethan had a way of taking care of her that didn't seem like he was doing much to help. It was almost kind of sneaky.

He'd pop into her room several times a day with a detailed message from Grayson or some useless update on the latest episode of The Bachelor, and leave random little presents in his wake: fruit salad or iced tea he'd whipped up earlier that day, a slim volume of short stories inspired by the heroines of Greek mythology that was apparently just lying around, pink and lilac hydrangeas to brighten up her room ("Don't get too excited, princess. I just swiped them from the office, there's flowers everywhere at the moment – I think some professor's husband is trying to atone for his philandering ways.")

On her third morning suffering the flu from hell, Emma woke to find he'd left her a note, propped up against a new bottle of her favourite bubble bath mix. She'd been meaning to get a top up for weeks.

'You smell terrible', read his scrawl. Ethan's handwriting reflected him perfectly – strong, slanting, intense, and a little all over the place. 'Please remedy this immediately. E.'

Emma smiled, reaching out to open the bottle. The familiar scent of jasmine and mandarin wafted out, and she decided that just this once, it couldn't hurt to follow his orders.

Of course, by the next week it was all business as usual. Once Emma was better, Ethan was back to being his same old sarcastic self – leaving his mess everywhere, strutting around pointlessly shirtless and picking fights with her about the most isnane things.

Ah, well. It'd been nice while it lasted.

uh oh ethma really broke up :( lit rally cant stop crying