He sighed again, letting another tear trickle down his face. His head hurt, his eyes hurt, even his hands hurt.
But what hurt most of all was his heart.
There was no point in telling her what he felt, for he knew what her reply would be.
"James! How did you manage to dream we could ever be a couple? In love? Ha!" Then she would laugh her beautiful yet mocking laugh and his heart would break all over again.
He glanced to his right, where she was sleeping peacefully. Her beauty never failed to astound him. She was the most beautiful woman in the world, because to him, she was the whole world.
But he could never tell her; one kiss would earn him the harder end of the mallet. Only it wouldn't be the mallet's sting that would shame him, it would be the feeling that would come behind it. He feared that she might never want to see him again if he told her.
Oh God, he loved her! He'd never be able to survive without her.
Was it a crime to be in love? Not puppy love, or a minor crush, but the head-over-heels, truest kind of desperate love?
He reached over and rested his hand on her delicate cheek. Then he kissed her, ever so gently, on the other cheek. "I love you, Jess," he whispered. He hoped that it would feel as if the weight was lifted from his shoulders, to tell her while she was sleeping, but he felt no different. If he wanted to have the weight lifted, he'd have to say it to her face.
Sadly, he took his hand away and buried his face in his own pillow. He could never tell her; it just wasn't meant to be.
But if he'd kept his face close to hers for a bit longer, he would've heard her murmur in her sleep, "I love you too, James."
James sighed again, a long, treacherous sigh. If he was ever going to be Jessie's man, he was going to have to contain his tears. But for now he couldn't; his emotions were too strong. Tears blurred his eyes so he couldn't read the time on his clock, although time no longer seemed to matter to him; three o'clock in the morning seemed the same as any hour.
He shut his eyes to stop the tears, and when he opened them, an unexpected face appeared before him.
"James, what's wrong?" Jessie offered her sympathy.
He felt shameful at the thought of disturbing her peaceful rest. "I'm sorry, Jessie. Did I wake you up?"
She didn't answer. She waited for him to reply to her question, but he didn't. Hoping to comfort him, she gave him a hug and whispered in his ear, "You've been crying. Tell me what been bothering you for the last couple of days, please?"
Not days, James thought. The past eight years! He began to weep again, even though he commanded himself to stop.
Jessie transferred his head to her lap and stroked his silky hair. "What's hurting you, James?"
"My heart." The words slipped out unexpectedly; he was in such a state of emotional upset to either lie to or avoid her. He opened his eyes, and found her face rather close to his. But what startled him was the glistening something that rolled down her cheek.
Tears! He had made his Jessie cry!
It surprised him more when she placed a kiss on his forehead.
He sat up suddenly, almost knocking her backwards. The two said nothing; they simply looked into each other's eyes and read all they needed to. No words needed to be exchanged. They both knew.
"Oh, Jessie," James whispered. His eyes filled with tears again, but this time they were tears of joy. Tears of joy that matched Jessie's.
He took the opportunity and kissed her on the lips. She offered no resistance, for she knew that she had fulfilled his happiest dream.
Funny, their dreams seemed to have something in common.
Meowth, who had watched the entire scene, turned away. HE didn't want to embarrass them after "dey had just gotten tagedda."
Author's Note: No one will ever read this, I know. If you've gotten this far, either consider yourself wisely chosen or cursed with rocketshippiness forever.