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The house was full.
Daylight streamed through the windows, crashing waves could be heard from the doors closest to the dock. It was another summer in Cousins, which meant my favorite people were all together in my favorite place.
"Good morning, Belly," Susannah greeted me with delight, as she always did. She placed a plate of pancakes and bacon in front of a chair at the table. "Have breakfast, my pretty girl."
I sat down, about to take a bite, when Steven and Jeremiah snagged both pieces of bacon from my plate.
"Hey!" I shouted, mostly playfully. Because even though they teased me relentlessly like this, nothing could make me happier than being here with all of them.
"Steven, give your sister back her food," my mom lectured him, rolling her eyes, but they had both already eaten what was in their hands.
"I'll make some more," Susannah reassured, not before giving Jeremiah a look.
"Me too, please." Conrad came down the stairs then, taking a seat at the table as well.
"Of course, Connie." Susannah smiled her award-winning, warmest of smiles, and everything was perfect. I started to eat my food.
Except, something didn't feel right. It became quiet, and the room became dark. I looked up from my plate, and everyone was gone.
I was all alone.
Suddenly, it felt like a hole was in my chest, one impossible for me to fill. Air was trapped in my lungs. I couldn't breathe.
I opened my mouth to call for help, but no sound came out. I strained my throat, clutching it as if I was choking, because that's what it felt like. No matter what I did, no one was coming. No one could help me.
I stayed there, alone, failing to breathe, until my vision darkened. I was passing out.
I awoke with a gasp, shooting up from my bed, violently forcing air into my lungs. It took me a moment to gather my surroundings- I was in my room at Susannah's beach house in Cousins. It was my first night staying there after her death, and now the house was on the line.
The tears that followed felt like they'd never stop, like a faucet was just turned on and broke, unable to stop the flow of water.
Everything was different in all the worst ways. Summers in Cousins were supposed to be fun, joyful. Now it was everything but. And it felt impossible for things to return to normal.
"Hey, Belly?" Jeremiah's voice rang softly from behind the door, followed by two knocks against the wood. "Could you- can I come in?"
Somehow my voice returned enough for me to croak out his name, disregarding his question because my brain was still on a loop of images from my dream and his voice just brought me a sliver of relief.
He stepped in then, and as soon as his eyes fell onto me, his face washed over with concern, making my chest warm in spite of the tears spilling down my cheeks.
"Oh my god, Bells," he spoke quickly, shutting the door behind him. "Are you okay?"
My lips opened to speak, but no words came out. I could feel them trembling, and if anyone else had been at my door, my cheeks would've reddened in embarrassment.
But it was Jeremiah.
So many reasons flooded by brain, but I decided to go with the most recent one.
"I had a dream," I whispered so quickly I worried he hadn't heard me. I still hadn't won over my voice back, so it was plausible. But his expression softened, and I knew he did.
Jeremiah walked over to me, sitting on the edge of my bed. I could see his hair was damp, freshly out of the shower, his curls curlier than when they were dry. He was already in pajamas- a blue tee and plaid pants- and I recognized his clothes from the last time we talked in this house, last summer. And then I remembered how he reacted to the news of me and Conrad- how badly I had hurt him. My heartstrings tugged even more.
He looked at me for a long moment, contemplating something in his head, and it was only then that I became aware of the mess of hair on my head from sleep, how puffy my eyes must look, wondering if a crease had formed on my face from sleeping haphazardly. I tucked some of my hair behind my ear, despite knowing it did nothing to help that situation, and Jeremiah moved to lay down beside me over the comforter. I laid my head back down onto my pillow.
We faced each other, our hands tucked underneath our cheeks. My breathing had already slowed to something more controllable, quieter, feeling safer with Jeremiah beside me. His presence brought that anywhere.
"Did you see my mom?" he broke the silence, and I almost gasped at the accuracy of his guess. I nodded slowly, and he sighed, darting his gaze away and turning onto his back to stare at the ceiling. He seemed distraught, and only then did I piece together how easily he was reading me. Although we shared ESP for each other, it wasn't that.
Jeremiah dreamed about her, too.
"You dream about her?" I asked anyway, and a sort of sheepish smile tugged at his lips.
"Yeah." His voice sounded hoarse, like it had become more difficult to speak. "Every night, pretty much. Since..." He didn't need to finish. Pity washed over me, having to think of him experiencing this every night and not having anyone to help him.
"Jere," I whispered, reaching out to hold his bicep. He looked at me when I touched him. "I'm sorry. I wish I knew." His lips drew taut in a smile.
"Do you wanna talk about it?" he asked me then, turning back to face me. "What you saw?" My cheeks warmed as I hesitated.
"We were all here- in this house- together. Your mom was making breakfast. It was nice, really. Just like old times." Jeremiah nodded, listening intently.
"But then, I looked up, and in an instant, it was all gone. The house was empty, no one was there anymore. I tried to call out for you guys, but no sound came out of me. That's when I woke up."
"Bells," he sounded my name sympathetically, and he gripped my arm just beneath my shoulder, squeezing reassuringly before running it up and down my arm soothingly. I felt goosebumps trail on my skin from his touch, hoping he didn't feel them.
"What about your dreams?" I asked him. "Are they similar?"
"Sometimes," he answered. His gaze shifted from my eyes to his hand moving on my arm, growing sad.
"Other times, they're more like nightmares."
I grabbed his hand that was grazing my arm, lacing our fingers together, and I watched as he inhaled sharply, his gaze intense on our fingers. "We don't have to talk about it." I rubbed circles around his knuckles with my thumb as a method of consolation.
He looked at me for a long moment then, and I forgot the power he held in his eyes. All at once, old feelings rushed back to me, ones I'd buried away but have relentlessly found themselves back to the surface one too many times, whenever I least expected it. I realized my feelings for Jeremiah never truly went away, only becoming hidden by the sand and the noise. But now, with him right in front of me, they were impossible to ignore.
Jeremiah refocused his gaze onto our intertwined hands, his thumb grazing over my knuckles, before he released a shaky breath. "There's one where I'm at the hospital, by her bed. Just like I was the moment she died. And she just looked so helpless, and there was nothing I could do about it, Belly. I'd never felt so fucking useless in my life." His eyebrows furrowed frustratingly, and I squeezed his hand.
"Guess it's more of a memory than a nightmare," he said darkly, his eyes watering.
"Oh, Jere," I whispered, scooting closer to him. "I'm so sorry. I can't imagine what that must've been like." His jaw flexed, and I could tell he was trying to be strong, blinking back his tears. He cleared his throat.
"Yeah, uh," his voice broke, "it was hard, you know? To see her like that. She was always so...full of life. Like the exact opposite of what she became."
"She was," I agreed, squeezing his hand again. "She always knew how to brighten up a room." I smiled distantly, fond of her memories.
He watched as I reminisced. "It's actually kind of nice to know I'm not the only one who dreams about her," he said then, a hint of a smile on his face. "And that your dream was... nice. Well, the first half, at least." A chuckle escaped my nose.
"Yeah, I guess it was nice. Honestly, it felt like a memory, too. I mean, you and Steven stole my bacon."
"Oh, yeah. Definitely a memory." He laughed with me, and for a moment, everything else that was going on seemed insignificant. I watched as his expression softened afterward, his gaze falling somewhere in the distance.
"So many of her best memories are from being in this house," he spoke, his eyes trailing around my bedroom. "Every room has her written all over it. Like-"
"Like she's still here," I finished for him, and he sighed.
"We can't lose this house," he said. "I can't lose any more of her."
"Hey." I took his arm, holding it to my chest. "We're not gonna lose the house. We'll figure something out, I promise." And even though I was unsure, I tried to sound as confident as possible. Because, if I was being honest, I didn't think I could handle losing the house, either.
He pressed his lips together in a tight smile before I let him go from my grasp, repositioning myself more comfortably on my pillow.
"Wait," I spoke then, remembering. "Why'd you knock earlier?"
"Oh, nothing," he shook his head. "Not important." I gave him a pleading look, and he sighed, rolling his eyes playfully.
"I was gonna get you for help- with my sheets, okay? I couldn't do it." An image of Jeremiah wrestling and getting frustrated with his bedsheets made a real, joyful laugh erupt from me, sending him into a fit, too, and warmth spread through my entire body. This was my favorite thing about Jeremiah. That no matter how I was feeling, he could somehow pull me out of it and make me laugh. Like an anchor, pulling me back to the surface whenever I'd fallen in too deep. He was always there to reel me back in.
"There she is," he said, bringing his hand up to brush the hair from my face and tuck it behind my ear. My breath hitched in my throat at the distant familiarity of his fingertips on me, and his hand stilled against me, cradling my cheek and jaw. His expression grew soft, his smile fading and his gaze intensifying. It felt like hours of us just staring at each other, holding our breath. I felt his thumb just barely move against my skin, grazing my bottom lip with a featherlight touch, and I couldn't hold out any longer, letting my gaze fall to his lips before fluttering closed. I heard him inhale sharply.
"I'm sorry," he apologized quickly, "I shouldn't be here." He started to pull away, but I stopped him, taking ahold of his hand on my face and keeping it there. "No," I said reassuringly, "stay." After a beat, I added, "please."
He looked at me, his eyes wide and darting back and forth between my own. "You're hurting, Belly."
"So are you." He watched our hands as I laced our fingers together again, and then his eyes were back on me, looking from my eyes to my lips, over and over. For a long time neither of us moved, the only audible sound in the room to me being my bounding pulse.
"Jere." I broke the silence. His gaze lifted back up to meet mine. Without breaking eye contact, I brought our intertwined hands up to my lips, pressing a kiss to the back of his palm, holding it firmly in my grasp. I wanted him to know that I meant what I said, that I wanted him here with me, like this.
"Stay with me," I repeated with conviction.
His gaze softened as he whimpered, relief washing over him as he moved closer to me, placing his hands on either side of my jaw and angling my head towards him. His lips brushed my forehead softly, and I sighed, closing my eyes, feeling safer in that moment in his embrace than I've ever felt in my life.
He lingered for a moment, before moving down and pressing his forehead against mine. Our eyes were both drawn shut, the rest of our senses heightening with the quickening of my heart rate.
He pressed another kiss to my forehead, this time a little firmer, and I relished in his security. I felt him move slightly before feeling his lips against my temple, then my cheek and nose, creating a slow trail around my face, like he was committing my features to memory. A sigh of content left my nose as he kissed me, slow and meticulous, so gentle across my skin as if I was made of glass and he wanted to cherish me. My hands reached behind him, clutching his back, holding him to me.
He kissed the corner of my mouth, freezing when my breath hitched for the second time. He was so close to where I wanted him, where my senses ached to be acknowledged, but the distance between our lips remained.
His forehead was against mine again, and after a moment, I blinked my eyes open in a daze, only to find his eyes shut, his mouth hovering a few inches away, the muscles in his jaw flexing with restraint.
"Why'd you stop?" I asked in a voice just above a whisper, reaching out to brush my hand against his jaw. I felt him relax immediately under my touch. His eyes opened, and they were wide as they searched mine, looking back and forth between my own, and my mouth.
"I just-" he stopped. His voice came out hoarse, and it sent my stomach in a spiral, in the best way possible. His eyes continued to search mine. Then, quietly, "are you sure?"
I smiled, nodding, before moving to close the distance between us like it was the most intentional thing I've ever done. His lips felt warm and soft against mine, and he tasted like mint toothpaste. We exhaled sighs through our noses at the same time, like a mutual feeling of relief. Finally.
With the assurance he needed, he stopped being tentative with his movements, leading the both of us with his mouth as he kissed me over and over, each time growing deeper than the last. It was better than I remembered. Kissing Jeremiah ignited something inside me that no one else could. He was electric, shooting through my nerve endings and stimulating each and every one of them. It was like he was trying to make up for the year's worth of time we lost, kissing me like I was the only thing keeping him alive.
His hands were everywhere- fisting in my hair, squeezing my arms and the sides of my waist, gliding all over my skin wherever he could. His scent engulfed me, all soap and shampoo and Jeremiah, and I realized how much I had missed it.
My hands tangled into his slightly damp hair, feeling cool between my fingers as I carded through his locks, tugging them gently. He sighed into me.
"I missed you so much, Bells," he rasped into my mouth before sliding his tongue against mine. I parted my lips more for him, eager to keep up, wanting to feel him as close as possible and aligned with every part of me. My hands moved underneath his shirt, skimming over his defined abs, and I felt his muscles flex beneath my fingers, a groan stirring from the back of his throat.
He slid the comforter off of me, then grasped at the skin exposed between the hem of my tank top and the waistband of my shorts, and it felt like his hands were on fire, heating me up wherever he touched me. I lifted my leg slightly so it rested over his shin, and he immediately grabbed my exposed thigh, pulling me flush against him and wrapping it around his hip, his fingertips leaving temporary dents in my skin. His kisses grew fervent with hunger, and I could do nothing but give in. With my arms around his neck, I tugged him towards me and laid back until we were sunken into my side of the bed completely, Jeremiah's weight pressing onto me. His mouth left mine then, and I started to protest, until he started kissing down my neck, making my toes curl.
I gasped once he reached the base of my throat, his mouth warm and wet against me, and his hands slid up my back beneath my tank top and along my thigh, his fingertips just barely sneaking beneath the hem of my shorts. I was obsessed with how close we were, I couldn't believe I went this long without him. Desperate for his lips back on mine, I grabbed his face from my neck and pulled him back to me, sighing into his mouth, satisfied when our tongues met again. I tightened my leg around his hip, pulling him impossibly closer, and I moved my hips against his slightly, aching to feel friction. He instantly groaned, and I could feel him through his pants and my cotton shorts, making me gasp quietly into his mouth.
"Fuck, Bells," he swore, detaching from my lips, and I realized how much I needed air. With his forehead against mine, we exchanged frantic breaths, laughing quietly through them as he peered at me through his eyelashes.
"You have no idea," he whispered as he caught his breath, "how long I've been wanting to do that."
I could only smile, still dazed from the whole thing, leaning forward to kiss him again. This one was sweet and slow, less charged from before as we calmed down from the adrenaline, and I felt him smile against me.
"Sleep over," I told him after parting from his lips as he laid back down beside me, a shy smile on my face. He grinned at me, stretching his arm across my shoulder to play with my hair.
"I can't really say no to that, can I?" he teased me, and I rolled my eyes.
"Well, if you wanna go back to your unmade bed, by all means-"
"You're cruel." I laughed, and he joined me.
His gaze softened again, but joy exuded from him, mirroring onto me. His arm wrapped around my neck loosely, pulling me closer until his face was my entire line of vision.
"Okay," he whispered. "I'll stay."
I smiled, wrapping my arms around his torso, tilting my head up slightly to look at him. "Okay."
He chuckled. "Okay."
I giggled, burying my face into his chest shyly, and I felt his chest rumble as he chuckled against me. He pulled me back so he could look at me, resting his forehead against mine, and having him here with me like this felt like home.
"Goodnight, Bells," he whispered, his sleepy gaze falling to my lips. I looked at his mouth, that hunger stirring within me again, and I swallowed.
"Goodnight." I mentally thanked our ESP as he leaned forward to kiss me again, soft and lingering, his eyelashes fluttering when he parted from me. His hand moved to my neck before his mouth was back on mine, and we were making out again. I would've kissed Jeremiah for hours if I could, and it felt like we did. But we never crossed that line, mutually deciding that it wasn't the right time. It was still fresh with Jeremiah, our wounds just barely having scabbed over, and a lot was on the line outside of these four walls.
But for tonight, I allowed myself to succumb to the pressure of his lips against mine, his hands on my skin. To feel like the world outside of this room was nonexistent; to allow my walls down completely. Because I could do that with Jeremiah.
Later, with our faces flushed and lips swollen, we finally went to sleep, with my back against his chest and his arms around me, our legs tangled together. And for the first night in a long time, neither of us woke up from a nightmare.