I'm Anything You Want Me To Be.

Day 7.

Well, night.

I spent the entire day moping in bed. Except times I had to accompany Jay at the table so he could eat.

After what happened yesterday with Nick, I went straight home and locked myself in my room. I started crying again when Jay fell asleep.

I knew for myself that there was no reason to stop crying other than that I was running out of tears.

During that time, I had some realizations and made some quick decisions. But before I could rethink about them, my phone suddenly starts vibrating under my pillow.

Not feeling like talking to anyone, I start putting the ringing off. But then this time, I see who is calling and decide to actually answer.

“And have you seen the moon tonight?”

“Is it full?” I sing back. “Still burning its embers..” I make myself stop singing no matter how much I don’t want to just because my voice starts to crack.

“Good evening, Riannon.” John greets.

“Good evening, John.” I reply.

“Seriously, have you seen the moon?”

“No,”

“Go outside and see it.” he tells me.

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

I haven’t had the strength to pick myself up and drag myself off the bed all day, but somehow John and his voice makes me rise.

I keep dragging myself down the stairs and make my way out.

And I see it.

“Yes, it’s full.” John then answers my previous melodic response.

“What about it?” I ask, staring at the full moon in the night sky now.

“It’s beautiful, I thought I would share it with you.”

“Thank you.” I mumble, realizing he’s made me jerk out my first smile in the past 24 hours.

“I went outside and saw the moon, then it made me think of you.”

“Are you still outside?”

“I’m still thinking of you.”

“Isn’t it cold where you are?” I wonder.

“A little,” he says. “Oh— Wait, what?! Crap— Fuck—”

“John?”

“It’s raining!” he happily muses. “Holy crap!”

“John, you’re gonna get sick—”

“I don’t care!” he exclaims.

I giggle though, imagining him dancing like a kid in the rain.

“Oh shit, Kennedy’s looking for me. He is gonna kill me when he finds out I’m wet now,”

“Go hide in the studio,” I suggest.

“Great idea.”

Within a good 5 seconds, the sound of the rain drowns out and I conclude John’s made it to dry land.

“So why’d you call?” I ask with a laugh.

“‘Cause you’re in my head. And I can’t take it.” he says in a pretentiously impatient tone.

“Ha, ha.” I laugh sarcastically as I make my way back to my room. “Do you know what day it is today?”

“We’ve all torn down the calendars and the clocks don’t seem to be ticking. We’ve lost concept of time. So no.” he answers.

I turn around and bury my head under my pillow, bringing my phone there with me, waiting for him to continue on the other line after I jump in my bed.

“However, I do know it’s been a week and that you are coming back tomorrow,”

I bite my lip, hearing this glint of excitement in his voice. At one point, I want to just disregard my decision and not let him down. But at another, I know I have to tell him so he wouldn’t wait. “No.”

“No? What do you mean no?” John questions in a panicking manner. “No, it hasn’t been a week yet?”

“It’s been a week, yes.” I say.

“Then no what?”

“Dani’s started repacking her things,” I say.

“You should be doing the same—”

“But I’m not.”

“Riannon, where are you going with this—”

“Nowhere.” I cut him off. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying here.”

When he doesn’t say anything back to this, I start to wonder.

“John?”

Getting no response for the second time, I really do start to worry.

“John?!”

I pull back from my phone and see he’s hung up.

What the fuck?

I throw my phone at the wall. All my frustrations which easily let up when John called are starting to flood back into me.

I close my eyes and force myself into sleep.

Sneezing, whizzing, groaning.

This is what wakes me up several hours later.

Then I feel my blanket tugged on and my eyes quickly shoot open, recognizing this kind of gesture.

I sit up and see John next to me.

For a second, I completely freeze.

My heart starts pounding against my chest, to a point where it hurts and makes me sick to my stomach.

And for a second, I have to reteach myself how to breathe.

I blink, finding it extremely difficult to register this in my head.

John is right beside me.

In my bed.

My bed.

“John?!”

His eyes shoot open as well now, and laughing, he yells “You’re awake—”

“You’re in my bed!” I scream.

John sits up to meet me and he reaches his hand out to my face. “Fuck, you are beautiful.”

The confused anger immediately drains from my system. “John..”

“What’s wrong?” John tries to catch the tears when they start falling.

“You’re here, you’re really here.”

“I drove till dawn.”

“John..”

John starts to worry, his eyes close to a squint as he starts to literally mop my face which so quickly got messed up with my tears.

I slap his hands away from me. And when I see that he is not going to attempt to reach out to me again, I move forward onto my knees, throw my arms around his neck, and bury my crying head in his shoulder. “John,”

“Shh,” John whispers into my ear. “I’m here,”

“You’re here,” I repeat, melting into him completely.

The way his arms form protectively around me lets me know that he’s not so sure why I’m crying.

And for a second, neither am I.

But then he says “I love you.”

And I realize.

He doesn’t quite understand that in this specific moment, he’s all I’ve got. That in this specific moment, everyone but him has given up on me. That in this specific moment, I’ve fallen apart and everyone’s done with me, and he’s all I have.

“I love you.” he says again.

Though he can’t very quickly comprehend what’s wrong, he stays and lets me let him hold me.

I can’t even believe I thought for a moment that I would not come back to John.

I can’t believe how stupid I was to even think that after losing everyone, I could handle it without John.

How could I even begin to think that I would be fine without him?

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” I cry. “I’m an idiot.”

“Don’t say that,” John lovingly looks at me as he comfortingly pulls back. “Don’t think that.”

I let out a pathetic whimpering laugh at how he just can’t see it. “I’m out.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Three strikes in twenty-four hours, John, I’m fucking out.” I mumble.

“What? Where are you striking out,”

“Dani hates me, Halvo is mad, and Nick is fucking done with me.. Shit, John, I’m done with myself,” I sob. “Kill me now,” I mutter into his chest when he pulls me back in.

“Riannon..” he whines. “I am not going to kill you.”

“Can I kill myself?” I suggest.

“No.” John sternly says as a negation.

“I’m so glad you’re here.” I decide to say instead.

“So am I.” he replies. I swear, has he not been here, I would’ve already hurt myself.

He pulls back a little.

I start to feel the urge to pull him back, but then he lets out a sneeze.

Then I feel the dampness of his clothes, then I remember picturing his dancing in the rain..

I pull back and hold his face in my palms.

His eyes are glazed, his nose is red..

“Baby, you’re sick.” I observe with a whining tone.

He chuckles at himself, and at my half-faking worried expression.

But I move forward again, this time, not to fall into his arms.

But to set lips on his, after looking him in the eyes and saying “But you’re here, and that’s what matters. Thank you.” It takes me another couple of kisses to notice the heat in his lips, and it makes me pull away. “I told you you’d get sick.”

“You also told me you weren’t coming back.” he counters.

“At least I wasn’t lying about either of those two things,”

When John sets his eyes in line with mine in an obvious attempt to make me guilty for even thinking about it, I look away.

I start to feel the urge to move away, but one of his hands clasps around my wrist. “I said I’m sorry.” I mumble.

“Don’t be such an idiot.” John starts.

“See, it’s hard not to think I’m an idiot with someone like you rubbing it in.” I scoff and force his hand off my wrist.

“Someone like me?” he wonders. “Oh, so you’d take it if it were someone else telling you?”

“Maybe if it were Dani,”

“You don’t get it, do you?!” he almost angrily huffs. “Don’t let people tell you you’re an idiot, Iann. Not me, not Dani—”

“But I am one!” I yell. “I’m one big fucking idiot—”

“No, you’re not!” John yells back, this time, grabbing both my wrists with both his hands, and pulling me almost violently into his arms.

Then I feel it again, the fact that he just can’t see it. “If I’m not such an idiot, why’d I strike out,”

“Maybe your bat’s too heavy for you.” John points out. “And the pitcher is a dick.”

I hide my sad face in his shoulder.

“You’re never going to strike out with me, Jones.” he continues. “Never.”

“Don’t be teammates with a loser like me, O’Callaghan.”

“You’re not a loser.”

I sigh and just let him hold me for a second. “You know, I can’t believe you drove all night to be here.”

“It’s not just being here,” he replies. “It’s being here with you.”

“Your band-mates are going to kill you.”

“Don’t care.” he shrugs.

“You have shit to do in that studio—”

“Don’t care.”

“I’m not worth this—”

“Yes you are.” he insists. “And even if you weren’t, I don’t care. I’m here for you.”

“Let’s just get you in the shower, yeah?” I suggest.

He doesn’t seem too excited about the idea, though.

Within the short span of exploding about me calling myself an idiot and now, he’d grown unusually tired.

Maybe it is because he really is sick.

He doesn’t look like he even got any sleep last night. Makes sense, he did drive all night to get here. Besides, his dancing in the rain caused this.

“No,” he groans as I help him out of bed. “I just want to rest..”

“You need to wash the rain off, as stupid as that sounds..” I say as I drag him to the bathroom.

“No..”

“Come on, John.” I tug him in.

“I don’t want to shower, I wanna go to bed with you,”

It makes me smile, the way he says it. This tone of excitement mixed with a little pleading. But it doesn’t stop me from starting to unbutton his shirt for him.

“No, stop..” John groans.

“John..”

“Stop,” he weakly takes my hands with his and move them away from his torso.

“Come on, let’s not be stubborn.” I almost lecture. “I told you you would get sick but you didn’t listen—”

“I listen to everything you say.” he mumbles, one note away from incoherence.

“You being sick is even worse than you being drunk,” I point out.

“I get all too horny when I’m drunk,” he says the exact thought that’s beginning to form in my brain. “Now, I just really wanna rest..”

“You’ve gotta shower first.” I take his shirt off anyway. I’m beginning to unbuckle his belt and pull it out the loops of his pants when he complains again.

“Iann, stop, I don’t want to shower..”

I look up and meet his eyes. “Please?”

He sees the way I pout and his eyes grow eager. “Then can we cuddle?”

“Then we can cuddle.” I giggle.

Then, I successfully get him in the shower. Once I hear the water running, I start my exit. “I’ll get you a towel and some clothes,”

“Don’t leave me!” John pokes his head out from the curtains. “I could get attacked by a ghost,”

“This house is a hundred percent ghost-proof, I promise.” I assure him and get back to my room.

On impulse, I opt to check my suitcase for more of his clothes. I find a couple of pairs of clean boxers there, not knowing how they ended up here though. I choose the one with the checkered print instead of the plain grey one.

Realizing I used the only shirt of his that was actually packed in my bag, I decide to just lend him one of my dad’s shirts.

I walk to my cabinet, bring out and pick out a really fluffy towel for him, as consolation because he didn’t want to get in the shower in the first place. Then I pick out a shirt that would fit slightly loosely on John so he would be comfortable.

“Back,” I announce when I enter. I stay outside and just listen to him hum things while he rinses off.

When he says he’s done, I hand him his towel. When he dries off, I hand him his clothes. He quickly throws them on and beats me to vacating the bathroom.

He jumps into my bed face-down. “Yes,” he cheers.

I crawl onto him and kiss the back of his neck. “You going to sleep?”

He nods into my pillow.

“What do you want to eat when you wake up? I’ll make it for you,” I ask as I get back up.

“Won’t be hungry,” he thinks ahead.

I go back to my cabinet and get extra blankets for him. “I’ll make you some soup.” I decide.

“No, you’ll stay here with me.” John says, holding my hand after I put the blankets down on his side.

I pull my hand away so I can start tucking him in.

He shakes the blankets off. “Come on,”

“John,”

“Iann, please?”

He frowns, and his eyes become seemingly of a puppy’s.. And it’s so hard to say no.

I give in.

He turns to his side, and I stay behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist. “Now, get your rest.”

He sneezes. “Will do,”

I’m close my eyes and prepare myself for the sleep I don’t even need anymore when I hear his voice again.

“Shit, Iann, I love you.”