Tapping of my bedroom window brings me out of dreamland. It wasn't even a wonderful dream considering I was almost eaten by a Titan from AOT. This is why I never watch AOT before bed. I always end up dreaming about weird shit. My first instinct is to ignore it, reasoning that is probably the wind or a cat decided to play footsie with my window.

''Ignore it, Mel.''

With that resolve, I snuggle deep into the covers and close my barely open eyes hoping for a peaceful sleep.

Tap tap tap.

Ignore it.

Tap tap tap.

Ignore it.

Tap tap tap.

I jolt up in a mixture of annoyance and irritation. It's mostly annoyance because I need a solid six hours of shut-eye. ''What the actual fuck is going on?'' I whisper-yell. The time on my alarm clock reads 1:00am and I'm mad, scratch that, I'm pissed. Does this cat want a death wish?

The tapping becomes incessant, almost urgent and I'm now starting to think it's not a cat.

''If it's not a cat, that means it's a burglar.'' I reason. I grab the baseball bat at the edge of my bed, and yes, it's the same one I almost used to turn Jason's head into a human baseball. Moving stealthily towards the curtains, I open it and see nothing.

''Weird.''

As an extra layer of precaution, I unlock the window and poke my head into the cold midnight air, looking left, then right, and I see nothing. I did not imagine the tapping, did I?

''Melody,'' a strained voice calls out. I look left again, following the sound of the voice and my eyes grow as wide as saucers.

''What in the world?'' Looking straight at me ladies and gentlemen, face illuminated by the streetlights and perched on top of the tree next to my window, holding on to the branches for dear life is none other than Jason Blunt.

''You're not a cat.''

''Why would you think I was?''

''Never mind that,'' I whisper harshly. ''Why would you think it's okay to come to my neighbourhood in the middle of the night and climb a tree next to my window?''

Is he nuts?

''Before, I answer that, could you get me out of here? I'm kind of stuck and I feel like the branches snapping.'' he squeaks. I blink, this time in disbelief because I can't believe he actually climbed a tree.

And is next to my bedroom window.

''How exactly am I meant to do that?''

''I don't know,'' he whispers harshly. ''You're the smart one.''

I ponder for a few minutes about how I'm going to help Jason get down from the tree. ''Wait, if you climbed up, can't you slide down?'' The law of gravity should be able to work in his favour.

''Um…''

He looks down from where he came and I follow suit. Bad idea, at least for him because he's shaking and it's a very long way down. He's a gangleader who deals with weapons yet he's scared of falling from a tree. Ironic.

''You could have used the front door.'' I say matter-of factly, not even bothering to keep my sarcasm at bay. ''Skip a few broken bones.''

''I didn't want to risk you hitting me with a baseball bat,'' he jokes. He looks at my right hand and the colour from his face drains. ''Get that thing away from me.''

I laugh at his displeasure and he sends a scowl mixed with a healthy dose of fear my way. ''Calm down, pretty boy, I won't hurt you.'' Sucks for him because I think there are actual soldier ants on that tree so they might actually hurt him. ''Think you can hold on for a minute without falling?''

''I'll try.''

Casting a worried yet amused glance at him, my head enters my room fully and I drop the bat on my bed. Digging into my closet, I grab the one item I haven't used in a long time: a rope. Once upon a time, Khalil and I would climb trees just for the fun of it. There was a game we used to play called Hanging Tree. It was a simple one, at least it was simple if you knew how to hang on to a tree branch. The aim was to see who could hang on to the branch the longest without falling and breaking a bone.

Dangerous? Definitely, but I was a tomboy when I was a kid and had a lot of guys as friends so danger wasn't anything new to me. I know for a fact that my mum had her hands full when I was younger. She absolutely hated it when I'd climb trees. Of course, I loved it because all of my friends where doing it.

She said I'd fall and I did once when I was six. It hurt like hell and I had my knees stitched. I still have a scar from that incident.

Khalil gave me the rope as a gift, said it'd be useful when we want to play Hanging Tree. It's a marvel I still kept it after all this time and after everything that happened between us. But, hey, it's going to be a lifesaver now…literally.

''Jason, are you still alive?''

''Yea,'' he responds. I'm still here.''

''Okay, so I have a rope and you are going to use it to climb into my bedroom.'' I figured that's the simplest way to get him out of there without him breaking a bone.

''Why do you have a rope?'' he questions, looking at me sceptically.

''Because I know how to climb trees.'' It's not my first rodeo. ''And I'm the only one who can help you right now.'' I wonder if the neighbours are looking at us right now. I hope they aren't because mum isn't home and I don't want any nosy nosepecker telling her that I helped a guy off a tree and into my bedroom. That conversation is not going to go down well.

''I'm going to hand you the rope now.'' I unwind the rope as much as I can and extend it to him. After a few tosses, he catches it firmly with his right hand, the other holding on to the tree branch. ''You don't need to be scared, you know? The tree branch is not going to snap. I've climbed this baby long enough to know that.''

The tree in question is a Bur Oak. Grandma Maggie said it's one of the oldest, tallest and healthiest trees in the neighbourhood. Apparently, it's been around since she was a little girl. It has grown to be quite the beauty, I'll give it that because in the mornings, it glistens.

With quite the repertoire, the branches would never snap.

''You got it?"'

''Yea.''

''Great. Now tie it securely to the branch,'' I instruct. This is similar to the time when he was instructing me to stitch his gash last year. The only difference is that I'm the one dishing out the instructions. It's still the same dangerous situation-Jason is hanging on for dear life, pun intended.

I crane my neck further to see if he's doing it correctly. ''Emphasis on the word securely because if you don't it's your funeral.''

''You're enjoying this, aren't you?'' he mutters.

You have no idea.

His fingers work the rope and he ties it, making sure it's extra tight. ''Good job,'' I encourage. ''Now, I'm going to hold on from this end. Don't worry, you won't fall.'' All he needs to do is climb the rope like a spider till he reaches my window sill. ''Just climb till you reach my sill.''

''Alright,'' he says unsurely, but with an aura of faux confidence. ''I'm coming.''

I tie the other end of the rope to my nearby chair and still hold a few layers of rope for good measure. He's moving, I can see his legs dangling. It's not a far 'dangle' when you think about it. I've snuck out before using this rope. If you count to ten, your first foot forward would be propped against the window sill.

''Nine,'' I count in my head. ''I see his left foot on the sill and I breathe a sigh of relief. The right foot follows and he pushes his body weight to stand fully on the sill, letting go of the rope. I hold on to his arm and help him into the window. However, I dragged him too hard and end up falling on my cold bedroom floor and he came falling flat after.

On. Top. Of. Me.

His body weight is fully on top me.

Oh. My. God.

How do girls in the movies act in situations like this?

The room is dark, save for the moonlight streaming from the window. He moves, albeit very slightly, and pins my hands with his. Our very close, almost intimate proximity is making my heart palpitate rapidly and loudly. Either it's my heart pumping out more oxygen or it's his because I can hear his heartbeat. It's clearer than crystal; one beat follows the other, then the next, like a pulsating drum.

His aqua blues mix so well with the moon, almost like it was made to shine just for the purpose of highlighting his eyes. Bodies pressed against each other, he's looking at me so intensely to the point that it's almost sinful. His chestnut hair has fallen in front of his face and his eyes zero in on my lips. I swallow intently and try to take deep and slow breaths. He moves in closer and I close my eyes in reciprocity.

Just three breaths, all he needs is three breaths and my lips would be his to claim.