surprise, surprise, couldn't find it in your eyes
but I'm sure it's written all over my face
surprise, surprise, never something I could hide
when I see we've made it through another day
/
His self esteem isn't bad, but for some reason when it comes to her he becomes a mess of emotions, trying desperately to do everything he can to hold onto something that he knows he already has.
He can't help it. When she falls asleep in his arms, all he can think about is whether or not she'll still be there when he wakes up, if this is all a dream, and if it is, he would give anything to not wake up.
He never used to be this dependent on someone and it scares him. It confuses him. It makes him unsure of what's real around him.
He likes to think that she's real, that she's the one true anchor of certainty in the world he created for himself, but he can't.
Because she's the one person in his life that is too good to be true.
So he dreads falling asleep, drinks as much coffee as he can, if only to watch her sleeping figure for a few hours more, soak in her perfection before it leaves and he has to deal with life on his own.
He watches her and holds her, and each time she dreamily says his name, it's like a shock to his system and he knows that this can't be real, knows that there is no way this woman is really his, he must have dreamt her up.
And it's fine with him if it's a dream. As long as he never wakes up.
Every night he tries to stay awake, and every night he fails.
When he wakes up, he keeps his eyes closed; he can tell it's morning, he can tell that it's bright, and he can tell that he's in his room. But he refuses to look with his eyes, because if he looks with his eyes there's a possibility that she might not be there, and if she's not there, he doesn't know what he'll do with himself. He doesn't know how he'll make it.
His heartbeat speeds up and his palms get sweaty and he is so nervous, all the time, because she is his heart and if she isn't really is then he'll give up everything – the fans, the music, the life – just to make it happen.
Every morning he keeps his eyes closed for as long as possible.
Every morning he takes a deep breath and slowly opens them, bracing himself for what he is – or isn't – about to see.
And every morning, she is there, smiling at him, and he smiles back and his heart rate accelerates even more – not from his terror, but from an another feeling entirely, one that he wishes he could feel for as long as the earth spins. The look of surprise on his face does not go unnoticed, and she giggles and he closes his eyes because my god, her voice.
She intoxicates him with her very presence and it terrifies him and makes him nervous but he wants to feel it for as long as he can.
"Good morning, Nick." She whispers softly, and he reaches a hand up to caress her cheek and buries his face in her hair, because it's not enough to just see her, he needs to touch her and smell her and hear her voice to convince himself.
The good thing about Macy is that she understands without him even saying anything, she knows that he has a fear of losing her, and she lets him do everything he needs to do to convince himself. She knows she has the rest of her life to prove to him that she's here to stay.
"Good morning, Macy," he whispers back, and the world around them falls away for awhile as they lay in bed and enjoy each other's company.
Mornings are always Nick's favorite time of day.
A/N: sorry for the shortness... I usually write very long oneshots, but this time I wanted to try a drabble.
This was inspired by the song "Sunrise" by Norah Jones, a fantastic singer/songwriter. Go have a listen.
Disclaimer: I do not own JONAS, the characters mentioned, or the song "Sunrise" by Norah Jones.