After his mother was taken from him, Jaime had worked hard to become numb. To everything, to everyone. He’d convinced himself that nothing mattered, that nothing lasted. He was comfortable like that - it kept him from feeling like there had been a hole punched through his chest. He could lose himself in parties, and in drugs, and in other people when they were tangled in his sheets. He could forget his mistakes, he could forget the all-over ache that weighed down on him like a chronic illness. He’d been so ignorant, so blissfully ignorant. Content to ignore his feelings and continue through life burning bridges and killing his potential. He couldn’t feel pain in his own self-destruction. No one could hurt you if your worst enemy was inside your own head. And with this nihilistic view of the world, Jaime had been ready to live out the rest of his life alone. Protected. And then Stevie had come back to him. Maybe not willingly, or happily, but she was here. He’d never been one to believe in god, he’d never believed in fate, or miracles. But he couldn’t think of a single reason why this would’ve happened to them. Things like this didn’t happen on their own, there was no explanation. Because nothing lasts. Nothing but this. Nothing but the way being close to her made his heart squeeze so tight he could swear it would burst, or the way that holding her felt like what he was put on this Earth to do. He didn’t understand how he’d managed to stomp the life out of everything he used to be, and yet one touch and he felt like he was hers again. How had these feelings survived when nothing else had? His throat got tight when he felt her voice more than he heard it against his neck - I could make you happy, I could make you love me - it was too much. His heart was racing against his chest, and he was so, so scared. He wasn’t entirely sure what for, but he could do nothing but hold her tighter to him, even as the song faded into the next.
Stevie couldn’t decide if she wanted to remember this in the morning or not. Forgetting had a certain appeal. It might be easier to convince herself to move on if she didn’t have another memory of what it felt like to be in Jaime’s arms again. If she didn’t remember that letting him draw her in and hold her close felt like coming up for air, like she’d been drowning in her anger and her resentment and letting go of all of that to simply have this one moment with him was the first taste of fresh air she’d had since... since she moved in? Or had she been this weighed down since he’d left? She’d been devastated and hurt, her heart still not fully intact from the death of her father when Jaime broke it into even smaller pieces but she’d had to push through that for her sisters. They needed her to be strong and to take care of them. She’d pushed all of her own pain aside to care for them and she’d tried so hard to keep it out of her mind but the moment she’d seen Jaime again it had come flooding back like she’d never gone a day without suffocating from it. It’d be easier to stay mad, to stay hurt and to fight to keep from letting him back in if she didn’t remember what it felt like to breathe easily but did she want to go back to that? Maybe things would never work out the way she wanted them to with Jaime but she wanted to try. Then again, that could be the whiskey talking. Remembering might just make it hurt worse when she had a clear mind. It just felt so good to be in his arms, to feel his body pressed against hers and the only thing she knew was the thought of losing him again terrified her. The song had ended and a new one had begun, something else quiet and when she realized that Jaime had done the opposite of pull away from her she smiled softly against his skin, holding onto the moment before pulling back just a little bit so she could see his face. Her hand moved to press against his cheek, just watching him for a second before she looked down. “I’m so tired, Jaime,” she whispered. Tired of being angry, tired of fighting. Tired of pretending that she didn’t care. She didn’t want to let go of him but she knew it’d be easier for her to pull away so she made the first move, pulling back just a little more but keeping close. “Can we go to sleep?”










