Blossom promptly passed out curled up on the couch merely a few minutes after we stopped speaking. I know that I'm a creep for intently watching her sleep like this, but she looks so adorable.

I'm starting to understand why Edward would watch Bella sleep; seeing Blossom so peaceful like this is heartwarming.

Get a grip, Bradshaw, I tell myself, running my hands through my hair.

The sound of the lock clicking open sounds through the room, and I shoot straight up in my seat as I'm unsure as of to who will come bursting through the door.

From what I've seen so far of the people around here, I'm completely disgusted. Sure, they're not all like that sick bastard at the house party, but the scenario put a bad taste in my mouth.

There was no real reason for me to come upstairs looking for Blossom, but thank fucking God I did. I felt my heart completely stop when I saw him with his hands all over her, and I instantly felt insanely protective.

I know more than she thinks, which compelled me to get her out of there even quicker. History really does seem to repeat itself.

To my delight, which is odd for me to say, a sober Mateo walks into the house, practically hauling Jasmine and Jordan, who are both drunk as shit, in his arms. He slams the door shut behind them, and I note that Ryan isn't with them.

"I'd bet money that Ry is hooking up with that Ethan guy right now," Jasmine hiccups, easily answering my question.

I had begun to scroll through my YouTube comment sections after Blossom fell asleep, and I shut down the laptop, setting it down on the table.

Blossom doesn't stir despite the commotion everybody else is making, but I still press a finger to my lips, silently shushing the trio.

Mateo glances towards Blossom, taking his coat off and hanging it up in the closet by the door.

I'm glad to see the two of them have yet another thing in common.

"Hey Bryce!" Jasmine chimes, completely oblivious to my attempts to shut her up.

"What were you two up to in here?" she asks, raising an eyebrow at me and winking before bursting out into laughter again.

Jordan starts laughing too, and Mateo gives them both a shove.

Jordan stumbles over to the island in the kitchen, pulling out one of the barstools and taking a seat. Judging by how wasted he is, I honestly expected him to miss the seat entirely and fall on his ass. Unfortunately he doesn't, and when he settles himself he says, "You know Lexi. It's not like she's ever done anything with anybody before, so why would she now?"

I regret telling Blossom that I liked this guy earlier, because now I want to slap him right across the face.

"Don't talk about her like that," Mateo and I both snap in perfect unison.

I slowly turn to look at him and his eyes are wide.

"Hot damn," I hear Jordan say, and just like that I stand up from my seat, walking over to Blossom's sleeping body and scooping her up into my arms. She weighs practically nothing and I can lift her easily, but this earns me a death stare from Blondie over there.

"Chill. I'm bringing her up to her bed, that's all," I tell him, and he backs down.

Smart dude.

I don't bother bring my computer, just carrying Blossom and picking up her phone as well. I'm sure she'll appreciate it being there in the morning for her.

It's absurd to think how oblivious she is sometimes. I still can't wrap my head around how she didn't know about my parents, not to mention that she hadn't seen my name floating around social media at all.

Not to even consider how she could probably sleep through a fucking earthquake based on how she's sleeping now.

I push open the door to the bedroom, noting Blossom's small duffel bag open on the floor. All the clothes inside are packed neatly and folded perfectly.

She's fucking adorable.

I step over the bag, pulling back the duvet on the bed and laying Blossom down on top of the sheets. I pull the covers back up over here, hoping to keep her warm, and she lets out a little content sigh. I place her cellphone down on the bedside table, next to the book she had placed there earlier.

I kiss her on the top of the head, before walking out of the room, shutting off the overhead light and closing the door.

Heading to the room I had claimed earlier, I draw the curtains on the windows shut before pulling my shirt over my head and tossing it carelessly onto the floor.

When I look down at the tattoos inked into my skin they feel unfamiliar.

Why am I suddenly caring so much about the tattoos? I had them done for me and me alone.

It's not like I give a shit about people's thoughts on me. They can mind their own damn business just like I do.

My thoughts are interrupted by a knock on the frame of the bedroom door which I had left open.

I spin around to see Mateo standing there, his hair messy and in his eyes wide.

"What do you want?" I ask him coldly, and he reciprocates the same energy.

"I got your text from Lexi's phone. What happened?" he asks.

"Why should you care?" I retort.

He snorts. "Real mature, Bryce. I want to make sure that she's okay, clearly. What happened to you being a genius?"

"Don't push me, kid. Some guy tried to force himself on her and I advise you don't bring it up again," I snap, and his jaw slacks in horror.

"Are you joking?"

Why would I joke about this kind of shit? Of course not. That would be utterly rude of me.

"No. Don't bring it up with her at all though," I tell him, giving him a short answer. "Now please, let me get some rest."

He hesitates for a moment, clearly contemplating if he should say something else snarky, but decides against as he turns around and walks out of the room.

"It's a good thing her brother isn't here. He would lose it," he says to me, before turning and walking back downstairs.

He's not wrong, but maybe if Charlie was here he could have potentially stopped that jackass even before I did.

Mateo rounds the corner without looking back at me, and I shut my door quickly before stripping down to just my boxers and climbing into the bed.

I choose to ignore the thoughts of how many people have had sex in this bed for awhile, remembering that I had packed a book to read myself.

I slide out of the bed even though I had just laid down, walking over to my bag and rummaging around in the main pocket. I find the book I was looking for immediately, tossing it onto the bed before unzipping the smaller pockets and plucking both my contacts case and glasses case.

I take my contacts out, placing them in the solution in their case and shutting the case. I then pop open the case holding my glasses, taking the frames out and pulling them on to my face.

I started wearing glasses when I was fifteen, and my vision really is fucked. I went straight to wearing contacts though, so most people don't even realize that I have such shitty eyesight.

Returning to the bed, I switch on the lamp resting on the bedside table before picking up the book and opening up to the bookmarked page.

I brought along a copy of Pride and Prejudice, by Jane Austen of course. I'm a book nerd as some would say, but I just find it a good way to keep my brain always active. I can't just sit around and do nothing as I feel like I'm wasting precious time.

I don't sleep much either, because even though I know sleep is necessary for survival, I've deemed it a waste of time as well.

This copy of the book is in French though, as I'm wanting to brush up on my writing in the language. I can of course still speak the language fluently, same with Arabic, and my Spanish could almost be considered fluent as well, but after not writing or reading in a language for an extended period of time, I feel the skill gradually beginning to slip.

There's no reason why I should be reading a romance novel as I don't have faith in love of any sorts anymore; all love seems to do it tear a person to shreds until they have nothing left to give.

I thought my parents were happy together but that was obviously not the case, so I guess that just made my opinion on how dumb this shit is even stronger.

I read through a few more pages of the book before, frustrated, I give up on concentrating.

My head is spinning with thoughts of Blossom for some reason.

Though I would never get with her and risk ruining our friendship with sex, I can't deny that I still think about it sometimes.

I can't help but to imagine what it would be like to kiss those soft, full lips again, to feel her hands running through my hair. The soft curves of her body could be pressed against me, and I'd love to hear her whispering my name in my ear as I—

Dammit. I need to stop this madness. Why can't I just tell my brain to shut up?

I'm drawn suddenly away from my thoughts when I hear the faint sound of someone screaming through the thin walls.

I straighten up in the bed, glancing to my phone which reads the time as 2:47 AM.

I must have been thinking for awhile, and I listen silently for a moment longer to try and figure out where the sound is coming from; right next door. Blossom's room.

I quickly climb out of the bed, rummaging through the clothes I've left messily on the floor before finding my pants and pulling them up my legs.

She better be okay, is all I can think as I push open the door to my room, only having to take a few steps to the left before I twist the knob on the door to Blossom's room with out even knocking.

I'm not thinking properly, only caring about making sure she's safe.

When I first step into the room I'm surprised by what I see as right off the bat.

Blossom is still the only one in the room. She's laying in bed, exactly where as I left her, still asleep.

"Please, no," she whimpers and the sound breaks my heart. There are tears staining her cheeks and her expression is pained.

She has nightmares too.

I rush over to her bedside straight away, taking her hands in mine.

"Blossom, please wake up," I beg, nudging her a little to try and get her up.

Her eyes immediately flutter open, and she's quivering all over as she stares blankly at my face, as if she's trying to take in her surroundings.

My heart is ponding in my chest.

"Did I wake you up? I'm sorry," she apologizes quickly, sitting up and leaning back against the headboard. She's still holding my hands as she does this, but she breaks our eye contact to look past me.

I turn around to find Mateo standing there staring at us with cold eyes.

"Is everything okay in here?" he asks, surely confused as of to why I'm here kneeling by her bed at three in the fucking morning.

Blossom surprises me by answering.

"Yes, it's all good. Could you close the door, please?" she says to him, and he looks shocked for an instant before nodding to her, following through with her wish by shutting the door and walking away.

"I was already awake, don't worry," I tell her, finding it ridiculous how she could be apologizing right now.

She nods, taking her hands from mine to hurriedly wipe the tears away from her face.

"I really am sorry," she continues to say, and I want to clamp a hand over her mouth to make her stop.

"Don't say that. It's fine, really," I reassure her, and she bites down on her lip, thinking for a lament before shifting over to the other side of the bed. She pats the empty space she just made, and I take it as an invitation to get up off the floor and sit on the bed next to

"Why, Miss Brooks, you're being very naughty," I tease. "Letting boys into your bed."

I attempt to lift the mood but know I failed miserably when the best response she can give me is a pained smile.

She draws her knees up to her chin, then wrapping her arms around her legs and basically curling herself up into a ball. She looks so vulnerable sitting like this.

"What were you dreaming about?" I dare to ask her, and I instantly feel regretful when she buries her face in the crook between her knees, shaking her head.

I reach for her chin, trying to bring her head back up, and when I do our faces are so close, too close. Her eyes are red from crying and her hair is falling in her face.

And then she breaks.

I'm taken back when she suddenly falls into my chest, wrapping her arms around my torso and now pressing her face against my neck.

God, she's sobbing so hard. I'm still not wearing a shirt, meaning that much of her bare skin is touching mine, and I feel a burst of heat at those points of contact.

Her skin is soft and smooth, and her hair is shiny and sleek. My arms instinctively bound around her, and I can't believe I'm literally cuddling with her like this right now. I don't do cuddling, ever, but I' realizing that I'll gladly make an exception for her.

This night is really not going well for my poor Blossom, and I would willingly take away some of her bad luck and put it on myself instead.

Unfortunately I can't do that though, so I lay here quietly, stroking her hair as she sobs into my chest.