Good Love

For the first time in what seemed like months, Annie woke up the next morning truly happy. Blissfully happy, actually.

John’s arms were wrapped around her waist -the way they’d been when she fell asleep- and her head was resting on his bare shoulder. He was still asleep, snoring quietly as the sun peeked in through the window curtains.

Annie felt an overwhelming sense of calm and peace wash through her, like this was what she needed all along, and had the strongest urge to document that feeling. So she slipped out from underneath John’s arms, tiptoed out of the room, grabbed her camera from the nightstand in her own room, and climbed back into bed with him. She aimed the camera -somehow able to capture both John’s sleeping face and her arm draped across his chest- and focused before pressing down the button that would snap the picture.

The shutter clicked loudly as the picture took, imprinting that moment on film, yet also awakening John.

“What was that?” he grumbled, still foggy with sleep.

“Shh, it was nothing. Go back to sleep,” she whispered softly, her fingers playing with a loose tendril of hair behind his ear.

“Ann? You’re still here,” he said, smiling sweetly, hugging her to him.

“I told you I would be.”

“Can I have a good-morning kiss?” John asked, afraid that last night was only a dream. He needed the evidence, because it felt too good to be true.

But it must have been real - because without hesitating Annie craned her neck and connected their lips. A sweet, simple kiss that hinted of more to come.

“Good morning,” she said, a little out of breath.

“You’re beautiful,” he said in return. “I’m going to go make us some breakfast.”

Annie groaned and held his arm tightly, not letting him go. “Can’t we just lay in bed for a little bit longer?”

John chuckled but slid back into bed, curling his arms around her. “Anything for you.”

“Oh, stop being so cheesy,” she said, rolling her eyes but smiling. She loved hearing him say that, yet at the same time it scared her to death.

She was terrified that he was just going to get tired of her in a few weeks or so. Toss her to the curb.

She knew John was a good guy; he was perfect, actually. But she wasn’t sure that she could give him everything he needed out of life. She was still trying to do that for herself.

“So what are we gonna tell your brother? And our friends?” John asked, interrupting her thoughts.

“Um, well - ah, I don’t exactly know what to tell myself.”

“And what does that mean?”

“What do you want out of this, John? What do you want from me, exactly?”

“Don’t you already know, Belle?” he sighed, giving her a smile. “I feel like I’ve been screaming it for months. I want to take you out on dates, show you off to my friends, show my parents the beautiful girl I somehow won over, all of that. I don’t want anything from you, I just want you. You’re good enough - no, you’re more than good enough. You’re everything that a guy like me could hope to find.”

“Don’t put me on a pedestal, John. I’m not that great-”

“Yes, yes you are, Annie! You may never, ever believe me, but you’re the perfect person for me. There’s no way that I could find anyone better than you, and I swear that on my life.”

“Oh, god,” she whispered quietly, more to herself than him, taking in short, quick breaths.

“I’m scaring you, aren’t I?” John asked, pushing the stray hairs away from her face. She nodded limply. “I’m not meaning to, it’s just.. I care about you an awful lot, Ann. I just want you to be mine.”

“I just need time, John. To think.”

“Time, right,” he scoffed, pulling away and getting out of bed. “More like, time to figure out how to dump me on my ass.” Without looking back at her, he stormed out of the room, slamming the door on his way out.

And it made Annie feel terrible, but she knew he was right, in a way. He told her how he felt, and how she needed to do the same. She was his, no doubt about it; she just had to figure out what she actually wanted.

***

After John’s outburst, Annie had lithely slipped out of his room and into her own room before Jared woke up - no need to start a scene, which would definitely happen when he saw her sleeping in John’s bed, and not for the first time.

She lay in bed and stared at the ceiling for a few minutes before the restlessness took over. She showered and took her time getting dressed, as if to prolong seeing him. She didn’t know what to say. She just needed a fucking cigarette.

The apartment was silent as she stepped out of her room. Was she home alone?

No. There, sitting on the kitchen counter, was a plate with blueberry pancakes. Undoubtedly they were made by John.

She looked around for her brother, or anyone really, but the house seemed empty. Until she heard the soft strumming coming from the balcony, and peeked out the glass door. There John sat, his guitar in his lap and a sketchpad on the table. Just like she’d found him so many other times.

Annie smiled to herself and grabbed the plate of pancakes, sitting herself down at the dining table. She ate in silence, listening to him play and sing the songs she now knew by heart.

It was when he started singing unfamiliar lyrics that his playing began to falter. His voice would crack or cut off suddenly, his strumming was jerky - it was like he’d never sang or played before in his life.

But when Annie heard the sound of a guitar being played a little too forcefully, a little too angrily.. that’s when she decided to check on him.

“Oh, John,” she cooed, rushing over to him and taking the guitar out of his hands before he broke it. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“I can’t do it,” he whispered. And then she noticed the tears streaking his face, his shaky breaths, his clenched hands. “I can’t do this song..”

“Shh, don’t worry. It’s alright, everything’s alright. Just relax.”

He calmed himself amazingly fast, running his hands through his hair. He wasn’t crying, but he was still ridiculously angry at himself.

“What am I even doing?” he ranted. “The record label thinks my band’s shit, I’m constantly disappointing my mom, I’m a horrible role model to my brothers, I drink and smoke way too much, and here I am chasing after a girl that’s too far away to reach.”

“John, your band isn’t shit-”

“No! Don’t tell me that, Annie! You’re supposed to say that, you’re just being a good friend.”

“Would you stop it and listen to me?” she scowled, crouching down next to him on the balcony.

“Why should I bother? I’m a horrible person, and that’s-”

Annie cut him off abruptly, leaning forward and catching his lips in a forceful kiss. John melted right away, needing her comfort more than ever. She kissed him, sitting on his lap and straddling him.

“Please don’t ever give up on me, or anything else,” she whispered against his swollen lips.

“I won’t,” he replied automatically, leaning in for another kiss. “Never, ever, ever will I give up. Especially not on you.”