A/N: My apologies for the delay! Midterms wiped me out for a bit. Here is a nice long chapter to satiate your appetites. Hopefully. Hahaha! Thank you for reading!
"Oh god, you're naked!"
Jerome looked down at his bare chest self-consciously. He awkwardly crossed his arms over his front. Amber's hands had flown to her face when Jerome had opened the door.
"I'm wearing boxers. You're fine," he mumbled and wiped sleep from his eyes.
It had taken Jerome by surprise when he'd received a text message (or several, actually, by the time he'd woken up) from Amber in the middle of the night. It wasn't really their style to communicate through technology, but he'd gone to his door anyway. Probably a good thing Alfie slept so soundly.
"I'm glad you're here. Sort of... Ambs, there's something I've been meaning to ask you."
Amber's eyes were a bit wide and it was clear she was trying very hard not to stare at Jerome's bare torso. Generally, whenever they'd rendezvoused at night, Jerome would wear some pajamas, or a t-shirt and flannel pants at least. He wasn't sure how he felt about Amber snuggling against his bare skin, - and she would, despite his protestations - so he'd always covered up. But when she'd given him no time, caught him off guard, he hadn't had much of a choice.
"Would you stop making that face at me."
"I'm sorry," she insisted, squeezing her eyes shut and nodding her head. "It's just-" her eyes opened and stared again- "there's just so much... skin."
Jerome rolled his eyes at her. "Fine. Hang on." He ducked back into his room, grabbed the first thing he could lay his hands on, and pulled his cardigan over his arms.
In the hall, Amber was gazing absently toward the entryway. Jerome eased the dorm room door closed silently, and took in the sight of the girl. She'd regained more of her rosy color since returning to Anubis House, and was beginning to look steadier and healthy again. She was still waifishly thin, though, and Jerome couldn't remember if she'd always been that way, or if he'd only noticed after her visit to the hospital.
He wasn't sure if Amber knew he was watching her, but Jerome suddenly felt he was maybe being a bit creepy. He reminded himself that there must've been a reason for her to text in the middle of the night, and that this was his opportunity to ask a few questions of his own for a change.
"Ambs?" He whispered into the dark a little too close to her ear. A slight shiver ran through her, but Amber had, in fact, felt Jerome's eyes on her before he'd come up behind her. She easily turned and wrapped her arms around his waist. He was vaguely more clothed than he had been, but her cheek still connected with exposed skin. He inhaled the scent of her shampoo.
Pulling away, Amber noted Jerome's dark blue cardigan, half buttoned over his naked torso, before forcing her eyes to focus on his face again. "Living room?" she suggested.
"What about Victor?"
"He's out tonight, remember? And Trudy snores, so she'll never hear us." She was already moving into the large, main room of the boarding house, so Jerome followed.
She settled herself on the leather sofa with her legs pulled up under her, leaving her slippers on the ground. Amber patted the cushion beside her, but instead, Jerome set himself on the edge of the coffee table directly opposite the girl.
"So," Jerome began. "Why'd you show up at my door at midnight?"
"No, you first. What did you want to ask me about?" Amber was hoping the darkness would hide the flush she could feel creeping up her neck. She hadn't exactly been subtle about the secret conversations she'd had with herself while Jerome had been asleep on her bed several nights previously. Whatever had possessed her to tease Jerome about talking in his sleep – the sunshine, the sugary lemonade, temporary insanity – it hadn't been the most brilliant decision. It was bound to stir suspicions in the blue-eyed boy, and Amber had a feeling he was about to air them.
"Okay. When we were at the lake-"
Here we go, she thought.
"-you said I talk in my sleep. And I know I must have said something embarrassing or you wouldn't have brought it up."
"Mmm," she hummed noncommittally.
His eyes seemed to be reflecting all the tinniest glimmers of light in the room. He looked expectantly at Amber. She'd decided it was best not to look at him at all, to avoid staring at his exposed collarbone.
"Well?" Jerome encouraged. She glanced back at him.
"Well, what? You talk in your sleep."
"Bullshit. What did I say?" His voice was stern, but Amber thought she detected a note of self-consciousness, and a slight blush.
She sighed. "Jerome, I..." she started, then paused. "When you fell asleep, I... um..."
"What? What was it you heard me say?" He was tired and irritated with Amber's evasiveness.
"It wasn't so much that you talk in your sleep... It's more that you answered my questions in your sleep." Amber's whole body was hot with embarrassment and something closely resembling fear. Or was it excitement? She hazarded a look in Jerome's direction, but it was clear he didn't really understand what she'd said.
"I... I asked you things while you were asleep. I couldn't get to sleep for while, so I was thinking out loud... and then you started answering me."
Jerome rubbed his hands over his face and combed his fingers through his bed-head. "What does that even mean?"
"I don't know. It means that. I asked you stuff while you were asleep. And you were talking in your dreams. I guess."
"Like what?" He stared as she sat silently for a moment again. She couldn't hold his gaze for more than a second at a time, though, and dropped her eyes to her slippers. Jerome reached across, poking Amber's knee, but got no response. Her sight rose up to his face in the dark again.
"What sort of stuff did you want to ask me?" He asked in what he was hoping was a calmer, reassuring tone, but it was hard to keep an even head with the blonde. With exhausted clarity, Jerome was beginning to see just how much of a head-fuck Amber could be. In the dark he couldn't tell if she was struggling not to cry or to burst out laughing.
"Jerome, I..." Amber's voice came out in a strangled squeak. Jerome quickly bridged the gap between them, shifting from his table perch to the cushion Amber had originally indicated. He saw her swallow hard and laid a hand on her bare foot.
"You know how I wanted your help? How I wanted you to be able to take care of me, make this... thing-" she gestured vaguely across her abdomen - "somehow better?"
"What does this have to do w-" his voice was rising out of a whisper into clear tones of exasperation.
"Just hold on, I'm getting there. I want to tell you this. This is why I texted. I need to just get this out, okay?" Her eyes finally met his again, looking a little desperate.
"Okay." He made an open armed gesture indicating she should continue.
"At first I just needed someone to talk to and be there for me, like a brother, or something. I want someone – wanted you – to be my friend. But you're more than that to me now, Jerome, and I feel like you see me clearer than I see me. So..." she inhaled slowly before going on. "When you were asleep, I was wondering if... if you love me."
A choking sort of sound caught in Jerome's throat, but Amber pressed on anyway.
"I mean, you were asleep, and it felt good to have you there. And the fact of the matter is, I do. I love you. It took me a while to figure out, but... it's true. I'm not sure if I'm in love with you exactly, but I know that you mean a whole lot to me, Jerome. A lot, a lot..." She realized she was beginning to babble, and stopped.
Jerome's eyebrows were knit together in consternation, and now he was the one who couldn't meet Amber's gaze. He could feel the awkward heat rolling off Amber's body and regretted their close proximity.
"Say something, Jerome," she begged.
There was a long pause. And then, "What did I say? What did I say when you asked?"
"Well... nothing. You hummed and pulled me closer. And I could feel your heart beating, so... I just kept whispering to you. I... asked you about Poppy, and your dad... and Mara." She was very sure he could see her bright red cheeks now, even with all the lights out.
"That's when you started murmuring. I asked if you really had a crush on Mara. Alfie told me you did. But then -" Amber giggled meekly- "you mumbled 'that bookworm' and I thought you must have been awake."
She paused, and thought she could practically hear the gears in Jerome's head grinding. He hadn't been expecting anything like this when Amber's texts had arrived, when she appeared outside his door, when they'd settled in the living room. He had no idea what to say. He wasn't sure what someone was supposed to say in this situation, or if he wanted to say anything. There was one thing he needed to know, though.
"Did I say anything about... about you? About you and me?"
Their eyes finally met again, and Amber was surprised by his earnest expression. It wasn't quite a look of fear, but of someone balanced on the edge of a major decision.
"I..." She wasn't sure if he really wanted to hear her answer. Jerome slid closer on the sofa. Without looking away from her, his fingers found her hands and rested carefully over them.
"Because, Ambs... I..."
Was this it? Was Jerome about to profess his undying love for her? Was he going to say he liked her? Was he moving closer? Was he going to kiss her? Was he going to ask her out? Was he going to pledge his support to her? A string of possibilities ran on fast-forward through Amber's mind, running in a zillion directions, but always circling back to a scenario where Jerome's sentence ended in '-love you.'
"I think I'd be a bad choice for you."
"Oh." Amber's heart sank and a lump formed in her throat. She expected him to move his hands, to stand up, walk away. But he was still right there, staring at her. Her skin erupted in goosebumps.
"I'm really an awful person, Amber." It still looked like Jerome's eyes were getting closer in the dark.
"You're not a terrible person, Jerome..." Amber managed to whisper, although she was unable to move away from him.
"I said I was awful, not terrible."
"Oh," she lamely answered once again. "Well, I don't believe you..."
Jerome's blood was coursing at several times its usual rate. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears. It seemed like there were a few hundred conflicting voices in his head, but he shut them all out. Willing himself not to think, just to feel.
"Ambs..."
"Yes?"
His face was mere centimeters from Amber's, yet Jerome's eyes remained locked on hers. Amber's sense of self-preservation had finally kicked in and pushed her back against the arm of the sofa. He leaned over her, hovered with one moment's hesitation. Then Amber's eyelashes fluttered, her eyes closed, and his lips were on hers.
There was no way he could have anticipated what it would feel like to kiss her. He hadn't actually kissed very many people before. Maybe he thought it would've been like kissing his sister. But it wasn't, and thank god for that.
After several long moments, Jerome pulled back ever so slightly and reopened his eyes. He couldn't remember shutting them. He also didn't remember Amber's hands having moved, but found one clutched around the collar of his cardigan all the same. The other clasped the middle and ring fingers of his right hand. Her eyes were still closed, and Jerome could see the pulse fluttering in her neck, just beneath her ear.
"Ambs?" His voice vibrated against her lips.
"Hmm?" she managed. Her thoughts had been silenced. There was no road map for wherever this was going.
"I'm gonna do that again, alright?" he stated more than asked. And he did.
This time, their lips more than met. Their mouths melded together in a way Jerome hadn't experienced with anyone else. Amber's hands pressed against his chest, pushing him away, while simultaneously grasping at his sweater, pulling them closer together. She tasted like toothpaste and sleep, and something uniquely Amber. She was pushing herself up onto her knees and pulling Jerome along with her. They knelt on the sofa, tasting and exploring each other's tongue. And then Amber was silently guiding him again.
Jerome found himself lying flat on the leather with Amber pressed against him. She was light but solid, and the frantic way she clutched at his sweater made him want to pull her closer. His arms wrapped tightly around her and his fingers tangled in her hair. It was several long, ecstatic minutes before the gears of Jerome's mind started turning again, panicked by the lack of oxygen.
His hand cupped Amber's face and pushed them gently apart. He gazed hungrily at her, kissed her briefly once more, and then pulled his lips more fully away from hers. Her eyes fluttered open again and her look was devastatingly appealing.
"Amber," he whispered between them and smiled.
"Jerome," she replied in kind. But he didn't go on, just stared into her face until she pushed herself up to a straddling position across his waist.
Jerome leveraged himself up onto his elbows and continued to gaze into Amber's face. They needed to talk about this. That's what was supposed to happen next. They had to talk about what they'd just done, and how they felt, and what it all meant. But all Jerome wanted to do was kiss Amber again, as soon as possible. With a series of swift motions, he managed to destabilize Amber's perch, stand up, and sweep the girl into his arms, startling her immensely.
"Let's take this meeting upstairs, shall we?"
It was more difficult than he'd anticipated to carry the girl up the stairs without bumping into practically everything, and at the top of the landing Jerome had to set her down. He kept his arm around her, and thrilled just a bit to feel Amber's fist grasping the back of his sweater. Jerome hesitated just outside Amber's door, but the blonde tugged at him reassuringly.
"Fabian's 'last night of freedom'," she offered as explanation before ushering Jerome through the doorway.
It was dark in the room, with the curtains drawn. Amber's body was awash in sensations and hormones, making it difficult to decide whether to switch on her lamp. Jerome could feel the tension in her spine, and was increasingly more aware of how uncomfortable it was to go from the situation they had just been in to the awkward logistics of where they stood now.
"I, uh. Do you-? Um." Amber stuttered and fidgeted under Jerome's gaze.
Applying gentle pressure to her waist, Jerome turned Amber to face him and wrapped his free arm back around her. Her hands automatically slid up between his shoulder blades and she relaxed, just holding on and letting herself be calm with him again. They stood very still for a bit. Amber silently counting Jerome's heartbeats. Jerome breathing in the scent of all things that reminded him of Amber. And when they broke apart it was a mutual movement.
Jerome stepped away and lay down on her bed. Amber sat at his feet, completing the mirror image of her first night back in Anubis House. This time, however, the tension between them wasn't chilly with betrayal and secrets kept too long; it burned with something Jerome had almost suspected had been there all along. Something he still wasn't sure he'd admitted to himself, even with the taste of her lips still dancing on his tongue.
Jerome's look was hungry, and Amber wanted nothing more than to kiss him again. She wanted to feel his hands on her and know he was hers. But she didn't know. It all suddenly felt so much more uncertain than it had in the weeks – or was it months now – since the first note.
"Jerome," she hesitated, but there really was nothing left to lose. "I want you."
"What does that mean?"
"I don't know," she admitted.
"Do you want us to...?" Jerome was embarrassed to finish his question, but Amber was pretty sure she knew what he was getting at.
"Not-not yet. Is that okay?"
"Of course. No pressure." He was honestly relieved, but hoped his words had sounded more calm and confident. He hesitated again, embarrassed, but curious. "Are you...?"
"A virgin?" She finished for him. Amber quirked one eyebrow at him and laughed quietly. It was becoming clear that Jerome was just as uncomfortable as she was. "No. Just once. With Mick. It was super awkward."
Even though she had looked away, Jerome could see Amber's eyes roll at the words 'super awkward' in his mind, and it made him smile.
"Are you?" She asked, looking back to him.
He nodded in the dark. "No jokes, please," he said, raising his hands in front of him to ward off any sort of attack. Their awkward laughter eased some of the tension that had formed around them.
"I don't care," Amber said after her giggles had subsided. Her hand snaked across the bedspread and grasped Jerome's. She wove her fingers between his and looked lovingly into his eyes through the darkness. His thumb traced circles against her skin. "Come here." She tugged at him until he sat up and scooted closer to her. She quietly examined the features of his face, and raised her free hand to trace the contours of his clavicle.
She brought herself very close, close enough that Jerome was tempted to steal another kiss. "I love you," she whispered against his lips before settling over them.
This kiss was slow, careful. Almost studious. Jerome was overwhelmed by the sensation in his lips. Once again, all thoughts were silenced. It was as if he'd touched his mouth to that magical stuff lightening must be made of, before science explained away the awe and wonder.
They stayed like that until one or the other, who could tell which?, had been unable to sit upright any longer. Then they'd broken briefly to lie down and arrange themselves. And then, a third time, to pull back the covers and curl into bed. With each interruption, the uncertain discomfort had returned, but each time was also slightly less embarrassing.
Eventually fatigue reclaimed them both, and they simply clung to one another as dawn approached.
"What about Nina?" Amber asked through a yawn.
"What about her?"
"What if she finds you still here?"
"Would you care if she did?" Jerome asked, laying a careful kiss against Amber's forehead.
She hesitated. "I guess not." She paused again. "What should we tell people?"
"The truth?" He offered.
"Do you think they could handle it?"
"You're right. Probably not," Jerome sighed and held her tighter.
"Probably not," Amber repeated with another yawn and rolled onto her side. A comfortable quiet filled the room, mingling with the sounds of night.
"Ambs, what are we?" Jerome's question went unanswered, his companion fast asleep.
The boy shifted beneath the blankets, matching the slumbering blonde's contours and holding her close. Their hands still intertwined, he fell asleep to the rhythmic lullaby of their hearts beating in time.
A/N: Oh no! Amber's slippers are still in the living room! Dundundun! Okay, so I'm super cheesy this late at night/early in the morning. Was that last sentence too much? Oh well. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it. As always, reviews are much appreciated. Also, if you have any questions or suggestions, please feel free to pm as well. Thanks again! -the PuffleHuff