Reviews:

Uchiha Bara: Thanks

ArellaWhite: Thanks, and how poor Jem? And they're about 11, 12 years old, thanks for reminding me

There was a knock at the door; it slowly opened—it was Jem.

"William? Are you awake?" his voice was trembling slightly, a small whisper.

"I am now," I grumbled, huffing out an irritated sigh, "What do you want."

He watched me intently for a moment as I propped myself up on my elbows and ran a hand through my hair, then blinked sleepily at me. "I had a nightmare…"

"Do you not have the common decency to wait for morning, instead of waking me for your stupid dream?"

Obsidian tinted silver eyes flashed in anger. "My parents died." His voice was soft, icy; I had never seen him angered before and it…scared me. It honestly did.

"What do you want me to do about it?" But he could tell I had weakened slightly; we both had the same ill fate, with our families, at least.

"Can I…stay with you? Just for tonight."

"No. Now leave me be."

"Please, William."

Something, I don't know what, made me soften. Perhaps the desperation in his voice. Or the pleading look in his eyes. Or the plaintive fear plastered on his face.

"Fine. But you had better not piss in my bed."

"Language, William." But he was relieved, I could tell. In his smile, in his eyes.

He slipped in besides me, and the narrowness of my bed ensued his hair to be pressed against my nose—not that I minded, it smelled amazing, not that I would ever tell him—and his body to be flush against mine.

"Goodnight, William." He sounded drowsy, flushed, happy.

"Hn."

And when he woke me again, not a few hours later, shivering and crying about another nightmare, I melted.

And soon he was sitting in my lap and I held him tightly in my arms. I swayed us gently, lulling him to sleep, turning his shivering to trembling and crying to sniffling. I started as his head fell against my neck, and I looked down at him, the faintest smile on my lips, because he was just so adorable.

But there was still another feeling, a possessive one, and as my eyes fell on the pale column of his throat, and I saw the loose, happy expression on his face…I wanted, needed everyone to know he was mine. And only mine.

"Thank you, William."

"Yes, James. But do not come crying to me again, because my doors will be looked, and I will be asleep." It was a lie, we both knew it.

He laughed breathily, half asleep. Then he stretched up, his wide eyes filling my vision, and kissed my cheek.

I flinched, too startled to really do anything. "Jem…what-?!"

"Goodnight, William."

"James Carstairs."

"William Herondale." I could tell he was smiling, and it (against my will) made me smile to.

"Jem!" I groaned, rolling my eyes.

Jem looked up at me, then smirked sleepily. "Why are you blushing?"

"You just kissed me." I ground out, annoyed at myself for being so weak as to blush.

"So?"

"You would blush to!"

He pondered this for a long moment, then shook his head. "I would not."

"Hn."

Jem let his eyes drift shut, and nuzzled his nose into my neck. I gazed down at him, not wanting him, or me, to move. He was just so…

Cute.

Against my greater judgment, I tipped his face up to mine and kissed him chastely, making sure to pull away just as he began to respond.

"William-!?" I let my hand linger against his blush-stained cheek, smirking as his eyes slipped open, slightly glazed over. He tilted his head up towards mine, lips slightly parted, imploring…His blushed darkened as I licked my lips—his sweet taste still remaining on my tongue, something sugary and spicy—but instead of kissing him, I turned away and closed my eyes. I was satisfied. For now.

"I was right. You, Jem, are blushing."