She's a gold bell for her whole town,
Shining and ringing away
I still feel her somehow,
Even though she's still miles away

- Roll My Stone, Arcy Drive

While everyone had physically healed from Apex's attack, I was still mending my torn mind. I had thought my history of violence and loss of control was over; I hated myself for convincing myself that I wasn't dangerous. The attack... it plagued me. While I seemed fine to everyone else, I was haunted every night from what I had done. John was really the only one who knew the hell I was going through every night.

Whenever I had a nightmare, John would come over to my bed, gently grabbing my shoulders to wake me up. Usually, I would bolt awake, trying to remember where I was and whether the ghosts haunting my nightmares were real or not. One time, the line between reality and my dreams was so blurred that I'd shoved John back, thinking he was one of my demons coming to kill me. He never mentioned the incident again, or held it over my head, but I knew it shook him up a bit. I knew he remembered how I had nearly killed half the class the last time I had forgotten who I was.

After my nightmares, sometimes I would tell him what they were about. I'd tell him about all the people I'd killed coming up from the grave to exact their revenge. Other times, I just rolled over in my bed and silently cried. John wasn't sure what to do - to no fault of his own. He always knew that I sometimes had nightmares, but he had no idea of how bad they actually were. After I lost control, the nightmares only got worse. Instead of happening once a week - a few times a month if I was lucky - they were now a nightly occurance. I had been so sure that I had complete control over Apex, and that stupid pride had ended with bloodshed and John locked in a cell.

To John's credit, he tried his best to help. He'd rub my back until I fell asleep, or stay up for the rest of the night with me so I wouldn't have to face the monsters in my dreams. But it was taking a toll on both of us, and I knew it. We silently suffered through sleepless nights, never speaking of the nightmares as soon as the sun was up.

It wasn't until John made a harmless suggestion of a movie night that I realized he was helping me in more ways than I knew.

It was only 9 pm, but we were both exhausted. I wanted nothing more to collapse in my bed and sleep for 12 hours, even though I knew it probably wouldn't happen. Bags were hanging under my eyes, and I was so drained that I could hardly focus. "A movie night?" I repeated. "I'm exhausted, John."

"C'mon, Vi, I'll even let you choose the movie," he offered, as if that was such a great bargain for keeping me away from my precious sleep. I tried to argue but he was dead-set on watching a movie.

Naturally, I picked the worst movie I had in an effort to make him drop the 'movie night' idea and let me sleep. It was a romantic comedy that I was sure he would loathe. The TV was placed directly in front of my bed, so he clambored onto the opposite side of the massive bed and settled in. I made a bet with myself that he wouldn't last five minutes before going back to his own bed.

I could barely keep my eyes open as I watched the movie. Not only because I was exhausted, but because the movie truly was awful. It was Nori's before she ditched me, and she swore that it was the best movie ever made. That should have been the first red flag that our friendship was doomed.

"John, are we really going to sit through this whole movie?" I asked, about 15 minutes after the opening scene.

When John didn't answer, I glanced over to see he was passed out, his face buried in the pillow and his arms splayed across the bed. Seriously? I nudged him gently to try to wake him. He let out a low groan, his eyes still closed. "John, time to go back to your own bed. There's no way we're finishing this movie."

John rolled over, ignoring me. If I wasn't so exhausted, I would have fought harder to wake him up and force him back to Nori's bed. But I hadn't slept in three weeks and there was no way I was sleeping in the same bed that my ex-best friend used to sleep in. The bed was big enough that I wouldn't have to sleep near John. I even put a pillow in between us so nothing happened. It wasn't that I was opposed to sleeping near John and I'd be lying if I said some of my good dreams didn't involve him cuddled up to me in bed. It just felt wrong because I knew he would never feel that for me.

Comfortable enough with my decision, as soon as my head hit the pillow, I passed out.

The next morning, I woke up to sunlight streaming through the window and John sprawled across my bed. I had to blink a few times to make sure it was real. Had I actually let John sleep in my bed?

Now, with a good night's rest, I was mortified that I let that happen. There had to be some boundary in our friendship that I had just crossed. Sure, the pillow between us still barricaded us from one another, but it was still weird. I shot out of bed, walking into the bathroom to splash my face with water and try to rationalize with myself. I told myself that it would never happen again and left it at that.

When I walked back into the bedroom, John was sitting up, rubbing his eyes. He didn't seem bothered that he had woken up in the wrong bed as he blinked away the sleep in his eyes. I tried to act normal and pretend like it wasn't a big deal, despite the fact that my skin was crawling with embarrassment. "You kinda passed out as soon as I turned the movie on."

John shrugged, unbothered. "It was a shitty movie anyway."

We didn't talk about the bed incident for the rest of the day, which I was thankful for. It wasn't until later that day that I realized it was the first night in weeks that I hadn't been woken up by a nightmare.

A few nights later, all filled with soul-crushing nightmares, John proposed another movie night. Once again, I argued that I was too tired, but he was relentless. This time, I chose some action movie that I thought he might like and wouldn't immediately fall asleep from. Like the first time, we set up the movie, climbed into bed, and started watching on opposite sides of the bed. This time, I was the one to fall asleep first (I didn't even make it ten minutes).

When I woke up the next morning, I expected John to be sleeping in his own bed, only to find his sprawled out on the opposite side of mine. There was no pillow between us this time, but I knew John didn't care about that kind of stuff as much as I did. I did notice the TV was turned off, so he must have done it before falling asleep. Meaning he intentionally slept in my bed, unlike the first night. But once again, neither of us spoke about it and were more well rested that day.

The pattern continued for the next week where we'd go a few nights sleeping in our own beds, waking up in the middle of the night from my screams and thrashing. After a few days of exhaustion, one of us would suggest a movie night and we both ended up passing out in my bed. And the next morning, without fail, we woke up after a restful sleep. It became a ritual, where we would sleep together under the guise of a 'movie night.'

It wasn't until the end of the week that John broke the unspoken rule that we would continue to pretend that sleeping in the same bed was an accident.

I had changed in the bathroom into an old shirt of John's that hung limply off my body and a long pair of pajama bottoms. Even if I usually preferred just a tank top and shorts, it felt scandalous to sleep in the same bed as my best friend without draping myself in the baggiest clothes I could find. From the bathroom, I called out, "Movie night tonight?"

When John didn't answer, I stepped back into the room. He was already laying under the covers of my bed, rubbing his hands over his face. His skin was pale and bags darkened his eyes. He looked like a corpse. He groaned, glancing over at me. "Can we just... stop pretending that we're actually going to watch a movie tonight?" he asked. "I'm exhausted, Vi. I was up all night and the DR session kicked my ass today. We both know that you sleep better when I'm here so can we just drop the act?"

My eyes widened as I stared at him, blood rushing to my cheeks. I stammered, unsure of what to say as he rolled his eyes. Clearly he was more comfortable with the situation than I was. "Vi, just get in the damn bed already."

I turned off the light, scurrying over to the bed. My heart was pounding in my chest, mostly from the embarrassment of him calling me out. But I knew he was right. We were both getting tired of pretending like our little movie nights meant nothing. I climbed into the bed, making sure there was enough distance between us before closing my eyes. Even though I was as exhausted as John, I still couldn't stop my mind from overanalyzing everything he had said.

After a few minutes, I whispered out, "John?"

"Hm?" he groaned, half asleep.

"That first night, when you wanted to watch a movie... was this your plan all along?"

There was a pause as John rolled over to look at me. In the dark, I could see the dark outline of his face, and the curves of his lips as they twitched up. "If you think I would ever intentionally watch that stupid movie you chose, you must not know me at all."

I fell asleep that night with a smile on my face.

After we stopped with the whole 'movie night' charade, things started changing between us. Subtly at first, but the change was there. Instead of sleeping on the far ends of the bed, we started sleeping a little closer to the middle. Then, we'd sleep with our backs barely touching. Each night, we moved closer and closer to each other, working our way to what we both wanted. We would never say it out loud, but we craved each other's touch in the safety of the darkness.

After another week sleeping together, John was the one to make the first move. Our backs were pressed together, and his leg tangled in with mine. I was about to fall into another peaceful sleep when I felt the bed shift as he rolled over. His arms snaked around my waist, and his face was pressed into my hair. I tensed up, but then relaxed under his touch. He mumbled out, "I sleep better on my right side." As if that explained pulling me so close to his chest that I could feel his heartbeat on my back.

We were more vulnerable in the dark. More comfortable with doing the things we would never do in the daylight.

Some nights, I would let him hold me, his chest pressed against my back and his hand resting on my hips. Other nights, I would roll over to wrap my arms around him, pressing my hips into his and tangling our legs together. I could feel his hot breathe on my chest as John's hands settled on my legs, drawing circles on the fabric of my pajamas. I'd let my hands slip under his shirt, resting on his back. Every night, we were pushing a new boundary in our friendship, as if to see how far we could go before one of us said something. Testing each other, to make sure we both wanted the same thing.

I would sleep in shorts instead of a long pair of pajama bottoms and that night, John's hands would run trails up and down my exposed legs. The next night, John would sleep without a shirt, claiming that it was too hot to wear one. We would never talk about it once we woke up, but every night I was having a harder time convincing myself that he was just doing this to help with my nightmares.

Despite how close we were at night, wrapped up in each other's arms, I wanted more. I wanted to grab his face, and kiss him with such passion that he had no doubt for how I felt for him. I wanted to hold him the same way once the sun was up. I wanted more. But whenever I summed up enough courage, I would remind myself that if I did these things, everything about us would change. And I wasn't sure if I could handle his rejection and our nightly ritual ending.

The constant need to be close in the dark was starting to carry over to how we acted during the day. Our friendship never changed, but we found comfort in eachother's touch. Our hands would brush as we walked down the hallway to our classes. When we sat across each other at the dinner table, the tips of our feet would be touching. If we were watching a movie on one of the couches in the rec room, John's hand would fall onto my thigh without either of us realizing it.

The only problem was that the teachers were starting to get annoyed with our rooming situation. Storm, to be specific. She made a few attempts to get John to start sleeping in his own room again, but John would always brush it off. After a month and a half of sharing a room, she had finally had enough. She called me and John into the Professor's office, where he was sitting behind the desk, and Logan on one of the chairs across the room.

"What's going on?" I asked nervously, glancing between the three adults.

"It's time we talked about your sleeping arrangements, John," Storm started. "We understand that you're still working through your issues with Bobby, but it's time for you to sleep in your own bedroom. We tolerated you sleeping in Violet's room at first, considering the circumstances, but it's been too long. It's frankly inappropriate for the two of you to be sleeping in the same room. This is a school."

"I'm not sleeping in Bobby's room," John said firmly. "After the shit he pulled, I'm not just going back to pretending he's my friend."

"Have you even talked to the kid? He's beating himself up over what happened," Logan argued. "You're not 5 anymore, so knock it off with the silent treatment."

There was a pause as the words sunk in. John's eyes were cold as he glared at Logan. He hadn't forgotten the role Logan played in locking him up either. His words were ice as he snarled, "You think I'm just going to get over it? He locked me in a cell after I saved the Professor's life. I'm not a kid, angry over some playground bullshit. I gave him enough chances, I'm not giving him another one."

"The fact of the matter is that there's no other single rooms, and none of the other students are willing to change rooms," the Professor explained gently. We could all see the true meaning behind his words; it wasn't that the other students didn't want to change roommates, it's that no one was willing to room with John. He may have been proven innocent, but it didn't stop them from thinking he was a criminal.

"You managed to change the rooms up pretty easily when Nori asked," I grumbled, staring at my hands.

"That was different-" Storm started, but I cut her off before she could feed us more lies.

I looked up, my eyes harsh. "Was it? Nori didn't want to be roommates with me anymore and you helped her pack up her clothes without a second thought. John doesn't want to sleep in the same room as the guy who locked him in a cell and suddenly there's not enough rooms available. You can't just pick and choose your favorites. You did nothing to try to get Nori and I to be friends again, but you're so insistent that John forgives Bobby."

There was a pause as the words sunk in. There was nothing they could say to argue what I had pointed out. They could try and say that they didn't favour one student over another, yet they were so quick to label John as a murderer. They couldn't let Nori off so easily with letting her switch rooms and then not share the same compassion for John. It was bullshit.

"I understand your frustration but it's too late in the day to make any room changes," Storm said. "If you sleep in your own room tonight, we can talk with some of the other students to try to get them reconsider switching rooms. The school year is coming to a close and more rooms will open up over the summer. Then, we can make sure you both have single rooms."

"Is it really that bad if I sleep in Violet's room for one more night?" John asked with a sigh. It was a fair point - how much could one more night hurt after nearly two months of sharing a room? "I mean there's two beds for a reason."

The Professor's eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he responded. "May I remind you that I'm quite adept at reading minds. If you and Violet actually slept in separate beds, I would consider allowing it. But the way you two act as soon as the lights are out is why we're concerned about you spending another night in her room."

If there was an open window nearby, I would have jumped out and embraced a quick death.

My face burned red and I shrank back in my chair, trying to hide myself from the three adult's judgemental gazes. Logan looked amused, Storm looked horrified, and the Professor was completely unapologetic for his humiliating remark. He made it sound like we were having wild sex every night rather than just sharing a bed! John on the other hand, wore a proud smirk as he snickered at my clear discomfort.

"I mean we're not doing anything like that," I stammered. "We just fall asleep in the same bed sometimes after watching a movie."

The look the Professor gave me told me that he knew more about how we slept together than he would care to know. If I were in his position, I would also feel the need to keep us in separate rooms.

"Now, Storm, please escort John to his own room. Logan, you can take Violet back to hers. It's almost past your curfew and I expect you to both stay in your separate rooms for the rest of the night," the Professor decided. He left no room for us to argue our case.

I sighed, standing up and following Logan out of the room. John was close behind, shooting me a final wink before parting ways with Storm. As humiliating as that meeting was, I was dreading the walk back to my room with Logan even more. He clearly had his own ideas of what he thought John and I were doing behind closed doors, and he lacked the ability to keep his mouth shut about it.

After Storm and John had disappeared from our vision, a sly grin spread across Logan's face. "So, you and Allerdyce?"

I groaned, covering my red face with my hands as I tried to pretend Logan wasn't there. "Ugh, the Professor made it sound so much worse than it is. We're not doing anything, it just helps me sleep with him close."

"Sure," Logan drawed out, clearly not convinced by anything I said. "Because you had such a hard time sleeping without him before."

I fought the urge to snap at him; he didn't know about my nightmares or how much worse they were after what happened in the classroom. "Before I lost control and nearly killed a dozen people? Well it turns out that it's a little hard to rest with their blood on my hands."

Logan stopped, grabbing my shoulder to prevent me from walking away. He turned to me, his brows furrowed and concern shining in his eyes. "Hey, you know what happened wasn't your fault, Violet. It was Apex, not you, who attacked those people. You can't beat yourself over something you had no control over."

It was what all the teachers had been telling me since the incidence happened, but I knew it wasn't true. I was the one who let Apex gain more and more control over my body by letting him unleashed during fights. I was the one who couldn't stop him from taking over. It may have been his teeth that sank into the Professor's flesh, but I should have been able to stop it from happening.

When I didn't say anything, Logan went on. "Aren't the therapy sessions with the Professor helping? He says you're making good progress with Apex."

"They're helping me with Apex, sure. But not even he can help with the nightmares," I mumbled, not meeting Logan's gaze.

He seemed to understand on a deeper level than I'd ever know. He sank back on his feet, slowly nodding. "And John does?"

I nodded.

Logan let out a sigh, seemingly understanding a little better. "Listen, rules are rules and I can't exactly encourage a couple teenagers to sneak around every night but... I get it. I know what it's like to have nightmares, and how real they can feel. But you can't depend on some boy to fix your problems. You need to find your own way to cope, or you're going to spend the rest of your life trailing after him."

I hated the implication that John would one day grow tired of me and move on, while I clung on desperately to him. But still, Logan had a point. I had no idea where John and I would be in five years... what if he really did get sick of me and leave? I couldn't be left with no other way to cope with my nightmares. "Fine. I'll sleep by myself tonight and see what happens, okay?"

Logan nodded once, seemingly pleased with the answer. We continued walking in silence, and reached my bedroom door.

"Good luck, kid," Logan said before walking away.

My bedroom felt more lonely without John in it. We had only been roommates for less than two months, and I already found it hard to imagine sleeping without him. But I had promised Logan that I'd sleep alone and see how I'd manage without him. I was fully committed to keeping that promise, until the lights turned out and I was faced with my demons.

The nightmares seemed so much worse than they'd ever been. Images of Apex killing everyone in the school. John, still locked in the cell, withered away from insanity and starvation. My mother begged me to control myself, while my father shunned me for the monster I was. It was enough to cause me to bolt up in my bed, only an hour after falling asleep.

At first, I was so focused on trying to slow my breathing that I didn't feel the pain. It was only when I glanced down that I saw blood on the white sheets. I felt the sudden sting in my arm, where blood was oozing from three long gashes reaching from my elbow to nearly my wrist. It was a miracle I hadn't severed a vein. I glanced at the clock, hoping that I had somehow managed to sleep through the night, and the single wound was a side-effect of rest.

4:03 am.

I rolled over to reach for John, but found that he was gone. In that moment, I didn't care about whatever promise I had made to Logan. I didn't care about trying to manage my demons in a more sustainable way. All I wanted - needed - was to have John's arms around me. I threw the comforter off of me and quickly washed up my arm in the sink. It wasn't bleeding quite so heavily anymore, and already seemed to be clotting up.

I didn't waste any time in changing out of my pajama's or trying to calm myself down again. Instead, I closed my bedroom door behind me and made my way to my only source of comfort. John's bedroom.

I tried the doorknob, but it was locked. I sighed, debating whether to just go back to my room and try to sleep. But I knew that once I stepped foot back into that room, the walls would close in around me and my lungs would stop working again. My knuckles rapped against the wooden door, so softly that I wasn't sure John would even be able to hear it.

I stood there, my hands gripping tightly to my arms as I waited. A few minutes passed, and I was about to turn and find some other way to calm me down when the door opened. Bobby was standing there, his hair tousled and his eyes blinking away the sleep clinging to him. He rubbed his eyes, brows furrowing when he saw me. "Violet? It's four in the morning, what are you doing here?"

I shifted on my feet, not meeting his eyes. "Is John awake?"

There was a groan from inside the room, followed by movement. Seconds later, John appeared, looking just as disheveled as Bobby. He was wearing long pajama bottoms, but his chest was bare. "Yeah, I'm awake," he grumbled. When he saw me, he instantly understood why I was here. "Rough night?"

I nodded, biting my lip and trying my hardest to not break down in tears. The nightmare was still on the edge of my vision, threatening to drag me back in. John gently took my hand, pulling it away from my body to look at the scratches on my arm. The bleeding had stopped, but the cuts were still fresh.

"Oh God, Vi, what happened? Did someone do this to you?" Bobby asked, gaping at the cuts. When he saw the look on John's face, he instantly closed his mouth and took a step back. He seemed to piece together that this wasn't the first time I had waken up with wounds on my body.

John stepped away, giving me room to walk in. "You want to sleep here tonight?"

I would normally be embarrassed at the thought of spending the night in John's bed with Bobby in the room, but with the exhaustion and terror still wracking my body, I couldn't turn him down. I nodded slightly, taking a step closer to John. His hands fell to my waist, his fingers rubbing against my back. I wanted to curl into him and let him hold me, but I was too aware of Bobby's gaze hyper-fixated on our movements.

"You can sleep in my bed if you want and I can go to Rogue's room," Bobby offered. He was once again shot with a look from John that told him to shut up.

"Drake, just go to sleep," John told him. Bobby still looked confused as where I would sleep, and he was glancing between us. Finally, he gave up and walked over to his own bed, slipping under the covers. I could tell that he was still watching us out of the corner of his eye, but I tried to ignore it.

I climbed into John's bed, followed closely by the pyrotechnic. He wrapped his arms around my body, pulling me close to him. I rested my head on his bare chest, with my hand coming to gently carress his skin. Being close to him like this was enough for the anxiety to lift from my body and replace with the warmth of John's touch. It scared me how much I needed him to feel whole.

His hand rested on my back, rubbing circles into it. The rhythm of it was soothing, and pulled me towards sleep. Before I could fall asleep, Bobby spoke up from the other side of the room. "So are you two finally together then?"

"No." John's voice was frosty and left no room for elaborating.

Bobby was silent for another moment before he asked, "Is this why Storm was so dead-set on you sleeping in separate rooms tonight?"

John groaned. "Shut up, Drake."

Bobby laughed, rolling over onto his side so that he was facing away from us. I could hear the amusement in his voice as he said, "I'll just give you lovebirds some privacy then."

John didn't dignify Bobby's comment with a response, but with Bobby's back turned, he shifted me in his arms so his arms were wrapped around my body and my face was buried into his neck. His hands slipped under my shirt, pulling it up past my bellybutton, and resting on my back. No wonder the Professor wanted to separate us.

I was on the verge of sleep when Bobby's quiet voice broke the silence again. "You guys are adorable by the way."

"Bobby!" John and I chorused. We were met with laughter from the other side of the room.


The nights continued on with us sneaking around in the dark. John would wait until the teachers had gone to bed before slipping out of his own and coming to my room. Other nights, I would tell him I'd try to sleep alone, only to be woken up from the nightmares hours later. John started to leave his door unlocked so I could slip in without waking Bobby. If Bobby minded the situation, I knew he wouldn't say it in fear of ruining any chance of rekindling his friendship with John. If anything, he would throw in a comment about how cute of a couple we would be when he woke up to me cuddled up to John's chest.

John usually ignored Bobby or shot him an ice cold glare. If Bobby thought the lighthearted jokes were a way to ease the tension between them, he was poorly mistaken. John hardly spoke to Bobby, and even months after the incident, John showed no sign of forgiveness. I could tell Bobby wasn't going to give up on their friendship but... I wish he would. I could feel the tension under John's skin every time Bobby spoke.

Our nightly ritual was starting to earn questioning glances from our classmates, but no one dared to actually comment. I knew the rumours were spreading, and most of them didn't understand the innocence of our sleeping arrangement. The stares that we had gotten since the Apex incident were now less accusational, and more curious. Everyone wanted some form of proof that we were more than friends, but we never gave it to them.

It was one of the nights that I had tried to sleep alone in my bed. I was trying to convince myself that I didn't need John to deal with my demons, but every time I tried I was reminded how wrong I was. I slipped out of my bed, my bare feet landing on the cold wooden floor. I locked the door behind me before walking down the hallway in the direction of John's room. When I turned the corner, there was someone at the end of the hallway. We both stopped in our spots, staring at eachother as we realized we both had the same idea of how we wanted to spend the night.

John smirked, slowly walking up to me from the other end of the hallway. He came to a stop in front of me, amusement glittering in his eyes as he looked down at me. I blinked up at him, my hand instinctively coming to grab his. "I thought you said you were going to try to sleep alone tonight," he pointed out, his free hand coming to rest on my waist.

"Well that never seems to work out well for us, does it?" I asked quietly. In the empty hallway, I leaned into his touch, wrapping my arms around his neck as he pulled me in close. It crossed my mind that this was the first time we were acting like this away from the safety of our beds, but I wasn't about to point that out to John. I felt almost guilty for it in a way, like I was tricking him into treating me how I wanted, rather than the possibility that he craved my touch as much as I did.

He leaned down, bringing his face close to mine as he whispered, "I don't see you complaining about it."

John's face was so close to mine, I could smell the toothpaste on his breath. It'd be so easy for me to close the gap between our lips and do what I'd been dreaming of for months now. There was a moment where I stopped caring about the repurcussions of what would happen if I kissed him. The animal side of me was what brought my face closer to his, so our noses were barely brushing.

"Well if it isn't my two favorite platonic best friends."

I leapt away from John, putting a foot of distance between us before turning to the voice. It was Logan, leaning against the wall with a beer in his hand. He had an amused grin on his face as his eyes flickered between the two of us. I opened my mouth to try and defend myself, but came up empty. How could I possibly explain when I was seconds away from doing something so far from platonic?

"It's such a shame Charles doesn't let you two sleep in the same room," he went on. "If only he could see you two now, giving each other a friendly hug in the hallway. I mean you basically act like brother and sister! Why wouldn't he let you sleep together?"

My face was burning and Logan was getting way too enjoyment from my suffering.

"I'm gonna go back to my room," John grumbled. "Or maybe jump off a cliff. Anything else seems less painful than this."

Logan reached into his pocket, pulling something out and tossing it to John. I glanced over to see what it was, only to turn away as my face resembled a tomato. It was a condom. "Just figured you should hold onto that for the next time Violet sneaks out of her room at night to come visit. I'm grossed out enough that you do it with Bobby in the room, but the thought of a pyrotechnic wolf baby running around is horrifying."

I wanted to die on the spot, but John just rolled his eyes and tossed the condom back to Logan. "I have my own condoms, Logan."

I slapped his arm, hissing, "You're not helping!"

Logan chuckled, shoving the condom back in his pocket. "Hey, as long as you're being safe."

My face was bright red at this point, which only seemed to add to Logan's amusement. After the amount of conversations we had about John (and about how we were just really great friends), he seemed to be overjoyed that he was right that we were more than just friends. Well, at least he thought he was right. I still wasn't quite sure what we were... but I had an idea of what would have happened if Logan hadn't interrupted us.

"We were not doing anything," I stressed.

Logan snorted, looking at me to ask if I really thought he was that stupid. Even John glanced at me with a puzzled look on his face - he clearly seemed to think we were about to do something. Well... maybe we were.

"Keep telling yourself that, Violet," Logan said with a laugh. "But seriously, back to your rooms. You two can act like that in college, but there are kids in this school."

I was thankful the whole experience was coming to an end. I wanted to curl up under my blankets and die. This interaction alone had probably traumatized me enough that I wouldn't be sneaking into John's room for a month... or maybe a few days, tops. I turned to run back to my room, but I felt John's hand grab my wrist and stop me.

"Who's going to stop us?"

I gaped at John. Who did he think he was talking to? Logan seemed equally shocked at his arrogant statement, because he stared the teenager down with a growing anger in his eyes. "What'd you just say to me, bub?"

John stood confidently in place. "I asked who's going to stop us. I mean, what, are you going to expel me? Put me in a cell again? You've already punished me enough for a lifetime, and I know that you and the other teachers are trying to stay on my good side. Everyone knows that if you push me any more, I'm going to snap. So if Violet and I keep sleeping together, who's really going to stop us?"

Logan was silent for a moment. He looked angry, contemplative, and the slightest bit impressed. Out of all of the teachers, I had the feeling that Logan cared least about the fact that John was unjustly locked up. But I could also tell that Logan probably did receive some orders from the Professor to go easy on him. Now that John had spoken up, he was stuck between giving in and possibly pushing John past the brink.

Logan glanced between the two of us. "You two really aren't doing anything other than sleeping?"

We both shook our heads.

He let out a sigh. "Look, I have a feeling that no matter what I say, you two are still going to be sneaking off together. And honestly, I don't really care what you do behind closed doors."

I let out a breath of relief. This conversation could have easily turned into a screaming match but it looked like it'd turn out alright for us in the end. I opened my mouth to reply but Logan clearly wasn't done his speech yet.

"I want to make this very clear," his face was serious as he paused, "You two would make terrible teen parents. And I'm not babysitting."

A strangled cough escaped my throat as my face resumed its bright red colour. He really couldn't let it go.

But John's hand was on my wrist again, guiding me away. "Right, we'll keep that in mind," he said quickly. I could tell that now that we had gotten over the difficult part of the conversation, he wanted to escape Logan as much as I did.

Logan still looked uneasy on his decision as he let us walk to my room. I tried to hurry, in case he decided to carry on the conversation even longer. Even though I had been skipping most of my classes lately anyway, I felt like I would spend more time locked in my room anyway simply to avoid him.

Finally, once we were behind closed doors, I let out a sigh, covering my face with my hands. "Well that was mortifying," I mumbled out. I didn't bother turning on the lights, I just walked towards my bed and crashed down on it. The bed shifted, as John crawled in next to me. He didn't say anything, but he pulled me in close to his chest.

I looked up at him, catching a glimpse of the side of his face. In the darkness, he seemed so peaceful. I wanted to lean up towards him and continue where we had left off in the hallway. Now that I had stepped back, I was shocked at how natural it all felt to be that close to him. And he wanted it just as much as I did. So what was stopping us now?

I wasn't an idiot - I could see why all of the teachers had concerns about us, and why the other students shot us sideways looks in the hallway. Even though we had always maintained that we were just friends... John and I made sense to be together. And if we both wanted it... why couldn't we just be together? Why had we done everything other than kiss?

But even as I asked myself the question, I felt like I knew the answer. Because being together was never that simple. It would never just be us. Apex was always going to be a part of me, and I did not blame John for having his hesitancies. Even though he never said it, Apex had to be the reason why he didn't kiss me sooner. Or maybe, unlike me, he just knew we would never work in the long run and he was saving both of us the trouble.

As I laid in my bed, curled up in his arms, I realized that eventually, this couldn't continue. We simply couldn't stay the friends who held each other like this. Eventually, we would have to decide whether to be together or create those necessary boundaries.

But right now... I was happy simply sleeping next to John.

A/N: the pace in this chapter is definitely different from the rest of the fic, but I have to admit, I'm really happy with how this turned out. John and Violet definitely aren't the type of people to admit their feelings for each other and they rely a lot on physical touch to show how they're really feeling. I think this chapter just kind of brought their relationship to the next step.