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kvd963 · 4 years ago

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One Last Time | J.M.

a/n: hi im back with a new fic even tho it kinda sucks (???) because my skills are rusty but y’all better still love me <3

summary: after countless painful heartbreaks, jonah swore to never love again but for you, he might give it one last try.

warnings: angst with fluff in the end hehe

word count: 2250

Jonah was perfectly fine with living alone in LA. His career took flight after his last breakup and he was free to live his life as wildly as he desired without having silly romantic relationships tying him down. He moved out from his old house and chose to settle in a cozy little apartment with his pet cat for a new start; he went to every single party he was invited to and usually ended up kissing way too many girls, getting way too drunk or waking up the next day with way too many gaps in his memory of the previous night; he got to put all his focus into making more music now that he had no girlfriend to put as his number one priority. Life was never better for the 23-year-old singer and he had never been happier. He was thriving on his own and he definitely didn’t need to…

“Can’t sleep again?”

…head to the neighboring apartment—your apartment in the middle of the night just because he couldn’t sleep. He was strong enough to deal with the inner demons that kept him up at night by himself.

Yet there he was anyway, doing exactly that and falling into your arms the moment the door opened wide enough for him to pass through. You weren’t the least bit surprised with his actions though, since it wasn’t unusual for him to engulf you in his tight bear hugs at the most unexpected times. Or visit you, that is.

He was grateful that you never complained about them.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, his voice muffled with his head buried in the crook of your neck. He couldn’t stop himself from inhaling a lungful of your scent. It wasn’t until then he realised how much he missed you, although the last time he saw you was this morning when you were about to leave for work and him for Daniel’s house. Hours apart felt like eternity when you weren’t around. “You?”

“Lost track of time while working, nothing new,” you admitted, rubbing his back in familiar strokes that put him at ease.

“Who the fuck works on a weekend?”

“Your favourite girl is a workaholic, apparently,” you joked and a smile involuntarily spread over his face and against your skin.

“Are you sure you’re my favourite girl?”

“I better be, or I’m kicking you out of my home right now,” you tried to make your threat sound less serious by adding a light laugh but Jonah knew you weren’t joking this time. You meant everything you just said (you never gave blank threats) so to some people you might be come across as intimidating, perhaps, but to Jonah, well…have you seen how small you were compared to him? He doubted you could do anything to make him leave your home if he didn’t want to. But you wouldn’t have to do anything because…

“Yep, you’re definitely my favorite,” he chuckled and felt how your body tensed when goosebumps started to form on the side of your neck where his hot exhales caressed.

Right. “Just friends“ equals personal space unless you say otherwise. He reluctantly removed his head from its previous comfortable resting spot on your shoulder.

“I’m sorry. I was too close—“

You shook your head. “It’s fine,” your hands found their way onto his face, cradling it between them gently, the simple gesture knocking his breath and all his problems out of him. God, he loved the way you touched him. “I like it when you’re close to me. It’s just that…”

“I know,” he said when you trailed off, unable to say your thoughts out loud. He understood what you meant. It’s just that it hurts when he does all these things to pull you closer, further blurring the line between friends and lovers, only to let you down again and again in the end. He resisted the urge to apologize once more, knowing that you’d merely brush him off with another ‘it’s fine’ if he did. You put up with his bullshit too much. He wondered why you hadn’t blocked him out of your life after all the emotional distress he had bestowed you. Yet.

A beat of silence passed with him watching you as you studied his face. He knew what you’d see. Tired eyes, unshaven beard and disheveled hair. In short, a mess. He hadn’t bothered to make himself look presentable lately. He wanted to but he couldn’t find the energy to. To be honest, he had been too emotionally and physically drained to do anything lately.

He knew you’d notice and a selfish part of him desperately wanted you to fuss over him. He was an asshole, really, for wanting and taking everything from you but not giving you anything back in return. The thing was, you didn’t want just anything. You wanted his love and he didn’t think he was in the right state to give you that. You deserved the special kind of love that would last for a lifetime, not a pathetic one coming from a broken heart that was still in the process of healing like his.

Guilt ate him away bit by bit, especially as you did exactly what he yearned for.

“When was the last time you slept well, Jonah?” you asked softly, thumb brushing over his cheekbone. All traces of playfulness were gone from your eyes and were replaced by concern, worry and everything else of the sorts.

“Can’t remember,” he admitted frankly, licking his lips and taking a gulp for extra courage before adding, “Been traveling a lot lately and sleeping in foreign hotels aren’t the same as…sleeping by your side.”

It was true. He didn’t know whether it’s the domesticity of preparing for bed together and the shared ‘goodnight’s before heading on a journey to dreamland, or maybe it’s the soothing feeling of your body pressed flush against his that made it easier for him to shut all the negative thoughts out, just for the night. Either way, he ended up growing addicted to holding you in his arms as he slept, which was why the nights without you had been torture for him.

A faint blush dusted your cheeks at his confession. You were oh so beautiful, he thought to himself. It scared him sometimes—how much he adored and wanted you even when he shouldn’t. “Glad you missed me.”

You sounded glad, relieved even. It was as if…you really thought you meant nothing to him.

“I always do, Y/N,” every second of the day until I’m back in your arms. He hated himself for not having the guts to say his true thoughts out loud.

You shook your head while smiling as if you found his reply incredulous. “You’re tired. C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”

“I meant every word I said, Y/N,” he insisted. “I didn’t say that because I was delirious.”

He received no answer but he noticed how your smile seemed forced after the words left his mouth.

At this point, you probably knew better than to let yourself believe in any of his sickeningly sweet but honest words. He didn’t blame you for that.

“Thanks, I’m flattered. Now, sleep time.”

He watched as you built your defenses up around you again. It was one of the most painful things he’d ever witnessed, that’s for sure.

“Alright.”

The bed dipped, followed by the rustling of the comforter, before a familiar warmth hit Jonah as you nestled against his chest. This wasn’t the first time you had done this, nor would it be the last time, but the effect your action had on Jonah would never cease.

Eruption of butterflies? Check.

Increase of heartbeat rate? Double check.

Suddenly having the overwhelming urge to make you his? Triple fucking check.

Habitually, he wrapped an arm around you, his hand casually resting on the curve of your waist. He could stay like this with you forever, he realised and he didn’t like it one bit.

The last thing you needed in your perfect life right now was a dumb, broken man for a boyfriend. One who only knew how to turn his life experiences into songs and getting led on by girls with bad intentions because he craved the feeling of loving someone and being loved in return, even if it’s fake.

But God, it was impossible for him to not fall harder for you each day when you were the one who lights up his world with your smile, the one who’ll drunkenly blabber about how big your crush on him is in the most adorable way after accidentally having too many drinks, the one who is always there to help him catch his breath whenever he feels like drowning and most importantly, the one who sees all his flaws but doesn’t love him any less because of them.

You don’t deserve her, a voice in his head said as he silently looked at you. Yet why were you here, resting in his embrace?

It must be another sick joke made by the universe to taunt him. To show him how close you were to him yet still so unreachable. Even if he did manage to reach you in the end, then what? All his past relationships either ended with him accidentally breaking his significant other’s heart or the other way round and he wasn’t going to risk it with you.

He didn’t want to lose you like how he did with them because…he wasn’t sure if he could ever recover from that loss.

Instead of continuing to lay on his side, he shifted his sleeping position so that his back was fully pressed against the mattress, with your head remaining on his chest.

Your bedroom was dead quiet save for the sounds of your breathing and the soft swish of the curtains that were slightly billowing in the chilly night breeze that entered through the opened sliding doors that led to the small balcony. You always slept with the curtains drawn because it let you get a clear view of the wide expanse of the night sky and if you’re lucky, you got to see stars that were littered across nature’s dark canvas. They were your only company during the lonely nights before he came along, you had once mentioned to him.

Now that he slept on the side of the bed that blocked your view of the outside world, the only thing in your line of vision was his chest, his neck, or if you tilt your head a little more upwards, his face.

Which was exactly where you’re looking at now.

“What’s on your mind?” Your voice was soft but it cut through the silence all the same, tearing his attention away from his racing thoughts.

“You,” he answered swiftly, offering you a weak smile that you didn’t reciprocate, causing his to eventually falter.

“For someone who said he wasn’t interested in a romantic relationship when I confessed my undying love for him, you sure think about me far too much,” you tisked and he couldn’t quite tell whether you meant your words in a teasing manner or were they pure sarcasm?

“That doesn’t mean I don’t feel anything for you, Y/N,” he was as torn as he sounded. One part of him yearned for you whereas the other wanted to push you away, to keep you safe. From his mess of a life and the pain it might inflict on you. “I just…don’t want to hurt you.”

“But you’re hurting me now by not letting me in, you know that?” You sighed. “Look, Jonah,” “I can’t wait forever for you to make up your mind.”

“Because it hurts like hell to be this close to you,” you reached up to run your thumb across his jaw, “but not being able to call you mine. And if the pain gets too unbearable one day, who’s to say I won’t leave?”

He hated that you were right.

So for a moment, he let himself picture what it would be like in a world where you belonged to him and vice versa; where he could have slow, lazy mornings in bed that consisted of intimate kisses, touches, and words that warmed hearts; where he’d be able to return to a home that wouldn’t be empty anymore due to your bubbly present; where he could keep you close in public with an arm securely looped around your waist or a hand holding yours without worrying that paparazzis would spread rumours that you were dating because it was true. You are his.

Life still wouldn’t be perfect, but at least it’d be complete with you in it and he’d definitely be happier than he was before.

That was when he realised he was a coward for spending too much time fearing what could go wrong, instead of thinking of all the beautiful things that could go right.

Sure, he had messed things up in the past and hurt the people around him in the process but his relationship with you was the present.

That should mean something right?

Maybe…just maybe…the only way to truly mend his shattered heart was by learning how to love again. By giving love one more chance. One last chance.

So with a shaky breath of nervousness, he admitted, “You’re right. I’ve kept you waiting for too long.”

“But not any longer.”

Then he closed the remaining distance between your lips.

And nothing had ever felt so right.

@chilling-seavey @neralondon @mia-marais @randomlimelightxxx @hopinglimelight @kvd963 @cutiebandlover202 @savspersonalproperty @slowdownatthelotusinn @hollandsangel @freakshows199 @my-fangirling-outlet @the-girl-who-cried-wolf @sadbitchfangirl @hopinglimelight @onlyangelavery @lokiandbuckylove @hometothecanyonmoon

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