'What did I just do?' John stilled and looked down at Amanda who was staring up at him in amazement. She looked like she'd come into her own; she looked completely happy and at peace. John, however, felt none of that. His head was still reeling from the unbelievable things she made him feel and the words that had slipped out of him when his guard finally fell completely for the first time in years. He felt safe when he was holding her like he was right now; him sitting and her in his lap, him still inside of her. It felt… perfect; which scared the living shit out of him. In his entire life nothing had ever felt this right. It was a completely foreign concept to him.

He turned them and laid her down on the bed, removing himself and sitting on the edge of the bed, his elbows resting on his knees. He ran his hands through his hair and took a few deep breaths.

"John?" Amanda sat up and touched his shoulder, "what's wrong?" she asked when he jerked away from her hand. He looked at her like he didn't even recognize her.

"I have to go." He told her, standing he walked and grabbed his pants. Yanking them up his legs he shoved his feet into his boots and grabbed his shirt. Amanda shot out of bed and pulled a nightshirt on over her head that had been hanging out of her dresser drawer.

"Like hell you are; you need to talk to me." She grabbed his arm and pulled him to a stop once he had his hand on the doorknob.

"About what?" He turned and snapped at her. She grabbed a pair of underwear out of a basket of clean clothes she'd neglected to put away. Yanking them on she jabbed her index finger into his still bare chest.

"How about you start with why you fuck me and run?" she shouted right back, "I get the whole tough guy thing is a defense mechanism however, you will not act like that with me!" she continued, making him rub his eyebrows in frustration.

"Mandy I just need to go." He said as calmly as possible. She looked genuinely hurt which in turn made him ache inside; yet another foreign concept to him that only intensified the fear within him.

"You are not leaving until you talk to me. Apparently you're my 'boyfriend'," she threw up the air quotes, "so seeing as how couples talk; talk to me god damnit!" she screamed and his temper flared. Reached out he grabbed her upper arms and shook her slightly.

"Don't you get it?! I've never told anyone I love them before! I don't know how the fuck to feel about all of this!" he shouted at her, his fingers digging into her skin hard enough to leave bruises, "I haven't even said that to my mom! You felt too damn good and it scares the shit out of me that I could want someone that much!" he pushed her back and opened the door roughly. Storming out of the room he turned and walked towards the from door, turned to grab his jacket and stopped short when he turned back and saw her standing in front of the door. Her arms were crossed and she was looking at him sternly. Her upper arms were already reddening and bruising slightly which made him cringe but he refused to show it.

"That's why you're running? Because you like me more than you thought you did?" she seemed disbelieving.

"Why do you never leave anything alone?" he demanded, yanking his shirt over his head onto his torso which Amanda hated to see covered. She ideally hoped for him to lay her back in bed and cuddle up next to her, every girl's perfect ending to her first time. Instead she was left battling his… insecurities. What felt like a wonderful, beautiful, perfect moment was quickly being tarnished by his inability to cope with his feelings.

"I'm not leaving this alone because what happened in there was fucking perfect; if you disagree with me then give it to me straight because I can cope. But don't walk out," She practically begged him, "if you just wanted to fuck me once then leave and never speak to me again tell me that. Don't leave without a word." She walked forward, her hands reaching to touch him almost like she was approaching a volatile animal that could strike at any moment. He stood stock still and let her run her hands up his chest and look up at him. He loved how good she felt, how warm she was compared to everyone else; but that was the problem.

"So is that it? Just one time and then we're over?" she asked honestly and without attitude despite the tears obviously forming in the corners of her eyes.

"I don't want just one time," he whispered, looking down at the ground, "I want more than one time; I want hundreds, thousands of times. I've never felt this way with anyone before." He told her honestly.

"Then why are you pushing me away?" she prodded, hoping she wasn't taking it too far.

"Because of those things I'm feeling towards you," he gently stroked her upper arms where his hands had bruised her, feeling like the lowest of the low for doing that, "I meant what I said and that scares the shit out of me."

"There's nothing to be scared of John. You don't have anything to worry about; this is my first time for a lot of things too, you're not the only one that's frightened…" she muttered and gently rested her head on his shoulder. He set his jacket back down on the table and wrapped his arms around her; hoping against all rational hope that this time would be different. Hoping she wouldn't push him away, the circumstances wouldn't tear them apart and she wouldn't ignore him like he was the dirt beneath her shoes.

"Spend the night John," she muttered, kissing his shirt clad chest gently, "then tomorrow we can get breakfast and I can meet your parents." He groaned and dropped his head back in frustration, having completely forgotten about their deal.

"Fine." He conceded and looked down at her. She turned her head and smiled brightly up at him, clearly trying to diffuse the tension still brewing between them. He finally smiled back and kneeled down to scoop her legs up and hold her against his chest with an arm behind her shoulders and knees. She rested her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his neck as he carried her back into her bedroom; kicking the door shut he took a few steps and dropped her onto the bed. Yanking the covers back she settled in and adjusted the pillows. John sat on the edge of the bed tugging his boots and shirt off before settling in next to her. Amanda reached over and tugged on the lamp cord until it went out and they were left in an almost stiflingly silent darkness.

"Do you always sleep with pants on?" she asked, breaking the silence.

"Yes." He muttered sleepily. She turned so she was facing him and tucked her hands under her head.

"Why?" she continued.

"Honestly?"

"Yeah." She jumped slightly when she felt his hand on her side pulling her closer to him. She pulled her hands out from under her head and rested them on his chest. He sighed audibly and kissed her forehead, wrapping his arms around her.

"In case my dad comes home drunk and I have to run." He whispered. Amanda held her breath in shock; the fact that he'd told her something painfully personal like that amazed her and upset her at the same time. She'd had a vague idea about his dad; she knew he drank a lot and got into bad fights with John but this seemed extremely private, something you wouldn't tell just anyone.

"That's bad." She reached up and stroked his cheek. He turned his head and kissed her fingers one by one.

"I don't want to think about that son of a bitch," he muttered against her thumb, nibbling it lightly until she giggled despite his harsh words, "just let me hold you." He wrapped his arms more tightly around her and fell silent. Amanda sat perfectly still until she heard his breathing change to a deeper, slower rhythm that signaled sleep. Shifting ever so slightly she leaned forward and pressed a kiss against his collarbone.

"I don't think I love you John," she whispered against his fevered skin, "I know I love you."