Badboy and the emo reunite (BXB)

Chater special. First night together.

Back to Shane's POV

I wake up, a black overgrown buzzcut next to me. I move back an inch to take in the morning and my thoughts. My first thought is that I'm shirtless, but he's not luckily. Though, it does ride up, revealing a 6 pack with a bunch of scars of all different sizes. I don't remember some from high school, so I know I'm gonna ask bout those later. The second thought is, how did I end up here? Whatever force made this happen is incredible and I'd like to thank it.

I take in the small details about him, some that I've missed until now. He has a tiny scar on the left side of his upper lip and another small scar on the left of the long eye scar from when he was small. I notice it's healed up a little more, making me wonder what it looked like before I even knew him.

I can't imagine that. I can, but I know I'm imagining it wrong. There must've been so much pain and fear. He doesn't realize just how strong he is, mentally and physically.

The kidnapping must've been frightening, I wouldn't have fought my way out like he did, and I wouldn't have the power.

I look at the bags under his eyes. I feel horrible, the PTSD, the anxiety, the depression. I couldn't handle it all, it's amazing he does.

I look at his arm, the bullet wound that's now healed up into a circular scar. I remember him saying he was scared, I would be too, it makes sense. He's been shot twice, threatened more, stabbed, sliced to where he's almost bled out, and much more.

He's incredible, he's an actual machine.

"What's wrong?"

I look up, he's staring at me with worry. He's so loving and caring, he'd do anything for his loved ones. I love that about him.

"Nothing's wrong," I push myself back into his arms, and they fold around me. "I love you."

"I love you too my little Emo."

I smile, then listen as he falls back asleep. I can already tell last night was a restless night for him. On the other hand, I'm wide awake, so I just listen to him and think.

——

He and I finally actually get up, and it's then that I realize we are in my hidden room in my parent's place. We lay in bed together for what feels like an eternity, just talking. We talk about our tattoos for a bit, mine that resembles my grandmother, his scorpion; it's fun learning about the meaning and the new ones we want. Soon after we realize the time and that we need to get up, but we both don't want to leave. He explores what I've done, what I've changed, and what's the same.

"I have the guitar that I got for my 18th at the apartment, you should definitely see it, I think you'll love it."

"I bet I will," he then eyes the drum set, and I smile. "I haven't played in months, I wonder if I still got it?"

I grab him and pull him to the drums, "Go ahead, remember that no one else can hear us." He stares. "Why did you stop?"

"I haven't picked up an instrument since we broke it off... I either didn't have the time or when I did I caught up on sleep. "

"Then this could be good practice. I remember Chance telling me about 7 Nation Army... I've never heard you."

He smiles, then kisses my forehead. He goes to the drums and picks up the sticks. He examines his fingers wrapping around it, and he sighs.

I go behind him, laying my hands on his shoulders. I lay my chin on top of his head, and then kiss it. I turn to grab my headphones and put them on his head. I connect them to my phone and play 7 Nation Army. I give his cheek a kiss then go in front of him to watch his magic.

I notice how once he gets used to the beat, he closes his eyes and rocks with the music. He was nervous for nothing, he's amazing. He was completely immersed in his own world, and I was so proud of him.

When he finished he just smiled at me, so I took off the headphones and kissed him.

"No reason to be nervous at all."

"What about you, you have these for a reason?"

I nod, "I was learning, after my move, I haven't practiced."

"Then, it can be something to pick up again."

"Yeah."

—

We venture into my apartment, and I pack a bag of my things, staring back at what Jason and I used to be. He was my happiness, the source of it at least for a while, I called it love. But when Zane grabs my hand, and ushers me to leave, I notice that this is my actual love.

In the car, me driving, him in passenger, holding hands, playing the radio softly as we used to, I ask something I hoped would make me feel better.

"Did you ever date after the breakup?"

He looks over, out of his trance, and gives a soft smile. "No."

That's not what I was hoping for. I wish he would've like I did so that I wouldn't feel like more of a douche for trying to move on.

"But, I did have some one-night stands and one date, and I regret them."

"Why regret?"

"One of them was someone I knew, someone I still talk to as a friend. Others were drunk hookups."

"The first wasn't a drunk hookup?"

"We were sober as can be, and as grounded as possible. It was a spur-of-the-moment thing, and I wish it didn't happen," he lets go of my hand and looks out the window instead. "We barely talked before, but whenever we did, it was the type of talk that went on forever, after things happened we both agreed it wouldn't mess with the friendship. It shouldn't have happened, because I was still pissed off about what happened between us."

"I was hoping for something like that actually, I was hoping you started dating after... I hoped because I would've felt better about trying to move on, but even now I regret that."

"We both did dumb things, and we both regret them. How about we move forward, and focus on us?" He smiles and grabs my hand again.

I intertwine our fingers, "yeah, that sounds great."