real life!

The headline stands proud, not even sparing a flinch under Adira's glare.

Justin glances down at her phone. "You're going to go blind if you keep staring at that shit," he remarks, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing a kiss to her neck.

She sighs, leaning into him. "I just can't believe people write shit like this and think it's okay. I didn't leave Mikey and Vicky's side for weeks. I fucking rushed to Amala. You had to drag me out."

"I know, baby." And he remembers her whining that she couldn't leave Amala's side, her frantic texts to Robbie, her constant asking if Vicky and Mikey were okay, and her sneaking texts to Amala.

"Enough about this bullshit." She rolls her eyes, turning to wrap her arms around him. "You never got to tell me how it went with Hailey."

He groans, throwing his head back. "I think that baby's making her lungs healthier. She had pipes on her."

"I saw the photo!" she exclaims, laughing. "You looked miserable."

He truly had been miserable, but there was a longing in the moment, too. He longed to be what they once were: Happy. Each other's home and strength. He craved the stability he once had with Hailey. He craved knowing he always had someone waiting for him. Thoughts coursing through his mind, he simply says, "I was."

He hoped she wouldn't notice the change in his voice, but she leans back and squints her eyes as she peers up at him. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he assures her, nodding. "I just don't want to put my shit on you. You're already going through enough."

"C'mon, J, you can tell me anything, I promise."

He strokes her arm, glancing down at her before his eyes find the sky's swirls of blue and white as the city bustles with life beneath them. "I love you, you know that, right?" he asks, desperately searching for the right words to say.

She nods. "I love you, too."

"I love you so much, Adira," he drags out, like he was on a mission to imprint his words in her memory for a final time. "And I'm scared that won't be enough, because it wasn't enough last time." His voice cracks, and her arms tighten around him. "I fucking hate saying it, but it's how I feel. I'm afraid, baby. So afraid."

His words twist their way through her veins and burrow themselves in the crevices of her heart. Part of her wants to bellow and bawl, but she doesn't. She tilts her head up, sees the panic in his eyes, and breathes out. She lets his words lay stranded in the air, then she starts, "I want to be mad at you so bad right now, but I know that won't do shit. I'll feel like shit, and you'll still feel the way you feel, and I'm going to have to respect th—"

"You don't have to respect it," he quickly cuts in. "You can slap the shit out of me. Tell me I'm crazy. Whatever. I'll take it."

"Just let me speak," she murmurs. "I don't want you to feel like you can't tell me shit like that, but I'm telling you right now: You sound fucking crazy. I'm with you. You're it."

Her words set fire upon his heart, and he holds her head in his hands, pressing a kiss to her lip before resting his forehead against hers. Eyes closed, they bask in one another. Heartbeat to heartbeat, they bare their souls to one another—an unspoken promise of love. "If I asked you to marry me, what would you say?"

Chuckling, she shakes her head. "I would say you need to get divorced first."

He snorts, quickly grabbing her hand and pulling both of them towards the bed. She yelps as their backs hit the fluffy sheets, letting out a what the fuck, which he ignores, pulling her leg to straddle his. "This reminds me of Paris," he says after a brief silence.

She lets out a deep, hearty laugh, and he smiles at the sound. "Never forget when you fell into the water fountain that trip because you were trying to get the little girl's Barbie doll."

"Babe," he whines, "you promised not to bring that up."

"Don't worry." Choking through her laughter, she pats his cheek. "It was cute!"

"I'm always cute." He nuzzles her neck and nips at the skin. "But that was embarrassing."

"Embarrassingly cute?"

"More embarrassing."

"Focus on the cute, baby." She turns to face him, cheekily smiling, and pats his chest. "The little girl loved you!" she proclaims, suppressing a laugh at the pout on his face. "She couldn't stop giggling."

"Because it was embarrassing."

"No, no," she trails off. A wisp of her blonde hair tickles him as she moves to completely straddle him. His eyes—a deep brown, only brightened by its blooms of gold and green—meet hers, and he pushes her hair behind her ears. "Focus on the cute, baby," she whispers against his lips.

━

Mikey blinks furiously as the bright light dances with her eyes. Her head turns, then she winces, before her lips slowly turn up at the sight of the familiar blonde, whose head rests in her hands and elbows dig into her thighs. "Hey," Mikey croaks.

Adira's head whips up, a smile overwhelms her pale face, but her brows furrow seeing the quick flash of pain across Mikey's face as she shifts in the bed to look at her. "Are you okay? How you feelin'? Do you need anything?" she rushes out.

Mikey lets out a laugh that fades away into a throaty cough. "I'm fine," she tells her. "Don't worry. Just want to talk to you."

Adira puffs out. "I've missed you so much, Mikey," she says, slumping her shoulders. "So fucking much."

"Missed you more." Mikey coughs again. "If I could hug you right now, I would."

Adira beams. "I want to kiss the shit out of you. You have no idea."

"I don't think Bieber would like that."

Adira rolls her eyes and relaxes into the yellow chair. The chair's cushion squeaks quietly under her weight. "He wouldn't have to know."

"I wouldn't have to know what?" Justin asks, shooting them a curious look as he walks into the room with two cups of coffee scalding his hands.

Adira jumps. "When the fuck did you open the door?" she manages to get out, clutching her heart. Justin only laughs, handing her her cup and taking his seat next to her. He rests his arm against the uncomfortable chair, while Adira wraps her free arm around the other. The smell of earthy coffee oozing from the tiny paper cup consumes him, and he takes his first sip, nose scrunching lightly as the bitter taste hits his tongue. Knowing it's the only thing that was going to come close to keeping him awake, he ignores the taste and counts his blessings.

"We were going to kiss and not tell you, but you ruined the moment," Mikey says nonchalantly, offering a slow shrug. Willing herself not to worry them, she holds in a grimace as her muscles scream and tear at her.

"I'm sorry, girls."

"Don't be," Mikey reassures him. "She's a bad kisser, anyway."

He shakes his head profusely. "I promise she's not." And Adira grins at his words, turning to press a kiss to his shoulder.

"Gross." Mikey wrinkles her nose. "You two are very gross."

"Says the one who was talking about kissing my girl."

They laugh before a blanket of silence cloaks them. Mikey's eyes tour the room, gazing at the bright pinks, purples, and greens that make up the painting hanging on the cream walls; the cherry wood of the table and the plant, on its last leg of life, resting atop it; the machines taunting her; and, finally, the couple. Adira clings to Justin's warmth, tapping her foot lightly against the floor and taking a sip from her drink. Justin whispers something in her ear, and she blushes, hiding herself in his shoulder as the red brightens her cheeks. He teases her with a bright grin on his face and presses a kiss to the side of her head. Mikey breaks the moment, and says, "I missed you, Bieber."

"Don't make me cry now, Mikey," he replies, sipping his coffee.

"He will cry, too," Adira tells her, slightly muffled by his shirt. "He's a baby."

Justin rolls his eyes. "Not true."

Mikey shakes her head. "Oh, I believe her, Bieber. I saw you after your exes." Justin opens his mouth to interject, but she gives him a sharp look, and he stays quiet. "But I'm serious. I never got to thank you for everything you did for 'Dira, for me. I heard you when you were here, and you were here a lot. Heard everything you said."

"Everything?"

"Everything." She gives him a knowing smile. "Thank you, Bieber, and good luck."

A confused Adira has a soft smile on her face as Justin untangles himself from her and reaches out to grasp Mikey's hand in his. "You don't ever have to thank me for that. I wanted to do that," he says. "I'm seriously happy you're okay. Just wanted you to be good." Feeling Adira's penetrating stare, he doesn't say anything about her well wishes, only giving her a secret wink, and she smiles again. "You had us worried sick, though. Don't do that shit again."

"My bad," Mikey says, shaking her head with a grin.

"Love you too much for you to go like that, Mikey. For real."

"Now look what you've done," she laughs, pointing to the tear crawling down her cheek. "I'll try not to get in a coma next time, Bieber."

He kisses her hand gently. "That's what I like to hear."