"Uuuugh…" I felt it more than heard it, and I shivered a little- here comes the hard part, I thought: waking up.

I pretended to be asleep, delaying the inevitable. I felt him slide his hand out from under my head, and I realized we were still in the same position as we had been last night, only now my arms lazily encircled his chest. I kept my breathing slow and even as he groaned again. I imagined him rubbing his face, trying to wake up. Waking up was hard for him, too, albeit for completely different reasons.

I felt him freeze, and I guessed it was because he was finally fully conscious.

"Shit," he breathed. "Shit, shit, shit." I concentrated on not wincing. I was so stupid for thinking this would change anything about us. His muttered curses hurt more than a punch to the face possibly could.

Being a true masochist, and still pretending I was asleep, I sighed breathily and nuzzled my hose in the space between his chin and his shoulder.

He exhaled unsteadily. I yearned to hear it again, a physical pain manifested in my throat.

Suddenly I felt his fingers sliding underneath my hair along my neck. Gently, he moved all my hair away from my face. He kept his hand against my neck, and he carefully brushed his thumb back and forth.

This was torture.

I couldn't take it anymore; I brought my arm that was slung over him to my face, and rubbed my eyes blearily. He pulled his hand back quickly and I tried not to wince again. I rolled over to my back, untangling my legs from his and pulling my arm out from underneath him. I yawned and stretched, giving him time to recover. I blinked several times, hamming it up a little. I glanced over at him and smiled a small smile. His hair was messy and sticking up in every direction, and he was still all sleepy-eyed. It was adorable.

"Hi," I said cautiously. This was all so weird; I didn't know where we stood.

"Hey," he said back. "Ummm…"

"Hey, now," I said lightly. "It's only awkward if you make it awkward," I repeated one of his favorite phrases.

"We're in the same bed. Together. How is that not awkward?" He said disbelievingly.

Rejection washed over me, and my eyes stung. "Dude. You're the one who came to my house, completely wasted, in the middle of the night! This is all on you," I said defensively.

"Touché," he said, effectively closing the subject.

"Why did you come here?" I asked him; I was genuinely confused. "Why not someone else's house? It's not like you don't have 8 billion other friends who would gladly take you in."

"True," he said, and I thought he was going to avoid the question. I was about to protest when he continued. "I guess I was driving- which probably wasn't a good idea- and it reminded me of all the times we drove this summer, and how you'd bitch to me, and I guess I figured you wouldn't mind."

I was amused. And annoyed. "I wouldn't mind? You wake me up and… intrude on my house after not giving me the time of day at school , and I take good care of you, which, frankly, you don't even deserve, and you think I won't mind?"

"Hey, I was drunk!" He defended himself. I just scoffed "And besides, he said knowingly, "you don't mind, do you?"

I sighed. He had a point. "No," I admitted reluctantly, "I don't. But I do feel… used."

He quirked an eyebrow. "How is that?"

I paused a minute, gathering my thoughts. He made a noise of protest, and I held up a finger. He was patient. "School," I began. "You don't talk to me unless you need help on your chemistry. That's not fair to me. I want a friend from you, not a study buddy. I need… emotional support or whatever. This summer, you gave that to me really well. When I was with you, all of my issues- Lauren, Tyler, my mom, my dad- they all disappeared. I was really happy. I loved that. And then school started and everything changed. You changed. You said we were friends, but friends just don't do that to each other." I paused. "Can I be completely honest here?" He nodded. "I think that when something bad happens to a person, the person reaches out to the first steady thing they find. For me, that was you. I needed you. You realize that?"

He studied my face for a minute. I flushed and looked down, studying my hands awkwardly. I hadn't meant to tell him all that, honestly. I had been holding it all in for so long after seeing him every day, though, that it wasn't a big surprise that it all came out. I glanced up at him nervously. He smiled a crooked smile, and I swear my heart stopped. He put his hands over mine to still them, and sighed.

"Would you believe me if I told you I had no idea I was doing that to you?" He asked quietly.

"That's why I told you."

He took one of my hands in both of his, and started playing with it, tracing my fingers and the lines on my palm. I studied his face carefully, inspecting it, wondering if I could find a difference, since there obviously was one. He didn't even look up, though, still messing around with my hand. I did something I had been dying to do for a long time: with my free hand, I pushed his messy hair out of his face gently. He looked up through his lashes, and with my hand still in his hair, he leaned in slowly, tauntingly.

The atmosphere changed easily. He brushed his nose lightly against mine. My breath hitched. He brushed his lips just barely against mine. He was driving me crazy. He pulled back, just slightly, and then did it again. This time, I pushed my bottom lip between his, and gave him a real kiss. It was gentle, and sweet, and nothing I thought would ever happen between us. He pulled back first, and I opened my eyes- I didn't even realize I had closed them realizing what had just happened, I snatched my hand from his hair and I blushed furiously. I refused to meet his eyes. He took my chin and tilted my face up towards his.

"Hey," he said softly, sweetly. "What's wrong?"

"Reality check," I whispered. "Will you act the same way around me when we're around other people? Don't use me. Don't make me fall if you aren't going to catch me." I looked him directly in the eye, waiting for his response.