It was your idea that led to you and Jack sharing your bed. You knew that making him sleep on the sofa was beyond cruel, and when you mentioned that you would be sleeping on the sofa, Jack nearly dropped his drink. Sharing the bed was the best compromise you could come up with.

You never expected to have such a good night's sleep. You had never shared a bed with anybody before, so you had assumed it would be awkward, slightly stifled, and leading to an overall light sleep that would make you feel groggy for hours after.

Boy, were you wrong, and you felt like such a cliché.

Your alarm didn't go off that morning thanks to foresight yelling at you to turn it off the night before. You knew your internal clock would wake you up anyway, which it did, allowing Jack to stay asleep when you started work at nine o'clock. Or at least, you hoped he would have stayed asleep.

The moment your phone read '08:30' you slowly, slowly began to detangle yourself—slowly removing Jack's arm from where it was slung over your side felt like defusing a bomb, and you refused to let the sigh of relief escape you as his peaceful slumber continued...or so you thought. He was faking it. His hand gripped yours like it was a glove of iron, and, even though you couldn't see his face through the darkness, your mind conjured up the image of bleary, child-like eyes.

'Where're you going?' he mumbled, 'you're warm. Come back.'

'I've got to get ready for work. Go back to sleep, I'll come back when the call is over.' You squeezed his hand before it fell back onto the mattress. 'Do you want a drink bringing up? Some painkillers?'

The rustling of a headshake gave you the answer. After gathering some clothes from the drawer, you found Jack's hand again and pressed a quick kiss to the skin of his knuckles before you hurried out of the room and into the bathroom, where you went through your morning routine without further disturbing your sleeping partner.

Partner. Boyfriend. Lover. Significant other.

A smile enveloped your face as you changed into your clean clothes, discarding your pyjamas onto the chilly floor. Everything felt like a living dream. It was like you were a teenager again, and your brain had created a person that you had never met, whose name you would never be told, but the overpowering love you felt for them followed you through to your waking moments, haunting you like a revenge-fuelled ghost. But, you reminded yourself, it was all real. Nothing was fake. You were living in reality, awake, and you could carry on through the day while the warmth of the sun sat illuminated in your chest.

If you were to give this newfound emotion a colour or a texture, it would be the soft, pink-orange that filled the sky at the end of a sunrise. The gentle lilac of purple jade. The demure, snow-white squishiness of a marshmallow. If you could, you would extract this feeling from your core, store it in a bottle (several bottles if there was enough of it) and place it on a shelf. Whenever the feeling returned, you would put it in yet another bottle. Then another. Then another. Then another, until the floor was full of happy thoughts.

You spent the few extra minutes before the call scrolling mindlessly through the emails your poor inbox had accumulated over the last week. The most recent one (sent yesterday afternoon by Annalise) detailed the project your team had started working on while you were away: the two Peloponnesian wars in the fifth century BC. Which wasn't bad, considering that it could have been about Thomas Edison, and you did not have a good word to say about that guy.

When the clock struck nine, you quietly logged into the meeting and hoped that your overly enthusiastic coworkers wouldn't make a scene. You were only logging in to give confirmation that you were back at work and ready to receive your workload, so thankfully you didn't have to stay long, and when you joined, you had a quick conversation to reassure your coworkers that you were fine. Annalise told you what section you were in charge of, and you left minutes later.

Easy. God, I love my job.

You made a quick detour to the kitchen to get yourself something to drink, as well as two paracetamols, just in case Jack needed them for his leg. He was still in bed when you crept into the room, and when you sat down on what was now your side of the bed, he gravitated towards you, an arm locking you down like a cuddly seatbelt. The bedside lamp was on, and its soft amber glow made him look almost angelic, like a tragic painting. The bags under his eyes (while not as bad as the day before) made his face look slightly gaunt and hollow.

The fight must've taken a lot out of him.

'How're you feeling?' you asked, moving your laptop so it wouldn't bother him. 'Is your leg okay?'

'It's fine. I should probably clean it, but I'm so tired.' He groaned. 'Stupid demon. I'm so glad I won—it would be so embarrassing if I lost.'

'If you lost, then you wouldn't be here. Since you won, though...what took you so long to get back? Your phone was working the night you left, but you weren't here.'

'Oh, yeah, about that! I kinda got thrown out of the demon realm and dropped my phone. We found it again, but that was after my heart stopped beating for a few minutes.'

You raised an eyebrow, trying to keep a level head after the bombshell he had just dropped on you. 'I'm...sorry? Your heart did what?'

'It stopped beating for a little bit,' he repeated.

'And why did it do that?'

'Apparently, human bodies aren't designed to fight demonic gods.'

'Well, that's a surprise.'

The sarcasm that seeped out of your words was enough to make Jack wince, his grip on you tightening as he said: 'It started up again, and it didn't do any lasting damage. All my internal organs are fine, and all my wounds are superficial. I won't suddenly drop dead from heart failure.'

'You better not, or I'm going to the death god's realm and dragging you back like Orpheus did with Eurydice.'

'Didn't Orpheus get trapped in the Underworld?' he asked.

'Ah-ah-ah, that's not my point.' You tapped his arm. 'What was his motivation for going to the underworld and looking back at her?'

'Because...he loved her?'

'Exactly. He loved her, and I love you. You can't blame him for looking back.' You shut your laptop and placed it on the floor (so it wouldn't fall), shuffling down so you were lying face to face with him. His eyes were open now, and he gazed at you with nothing but overpowering warmth in his brown irises; alas, you only saw them for a second before your lips brushed against his.

The kiss was brief, but it was enough. Fireworks erupted in your bloodstream, and when you pulled away, you couldn't help but let Jack kiss you again and again—each one as sweet as the last. It didn't progress past anything more than a barrage of butterfly kisses, yet you swore you just fell in love with him all over again.

'You love me, huh?' Jack said, a teasing grin on his face. 'Don't think the message got across. Can you kiss me again?

You hid your amusement and slightly flustered face by sitting back up. 'Don't be an arse.'

'You promised me all the kisses in the world,' he chided as he too sat up (though he didn't do a good job of hiding the flash of pain that crossed his face).

'I do, but I can tell that you're in pain.' I'm so glad I brought those tablets up. 'Here—' you dropped the two paracetamols into his palm—'do you need water or a hot drink?'

'Nope! I can take them dry.' And with that horrifying announcement, he put the two tablets into his mouth, sticking his tongue out so you could see the two powdered painkillers beginning to melt.

You shuddered. 'How are your tastebuds not dead?'

'Because they don't taste bad.'

'If I was a scientist, I would love to study your brain. And your tongue.' You went to say something else, but the quietly cheerful 'Ding!' of your phone made you pause. You hadn't heard that particular text tone in a while, and a quick glance at the screen confirmed your suspicion. 'Shit.'

'Hm?'

'This is...unexpected,' you said. 'I haven't heard from Socks since the work thing.'

'Socks messaged you?'

'Yeah.' You scanned through the content of the message before reading it aloud. '"Hey, I'm sorry for acting weird. I don't know what was going on, but it hurt you and I'm sorry. Can we still be friends?"'

you:

hey ! it's okay, i knew you weren't feeling very well

of course we can still be friends !

socks:

Oh thank god

I was worried that I'd ruined things

you:

no no ! you didn't ruin anything

in the future tho, we gotta be more honest about these things

socks:

Agreed! I'll try and be more open

I'm truly sorry for everything

you:

socks please dont beat yourself up !

we all make mistakes and im not gonna hate you for it

if you want we can meet up after work?

socks:

That sounds really nice :D

Is half five alright? At my place?

you:

awesome !! i'll see you later ^,^

'They seem normal again,' Jack commented. 'That's good.'

'It is! I'll mention you later and see if they remember you or not.'

'You don't have to.'

'Jack, darling, they're like a sibling to me, and I did say that we had to be more honest with each other. That rule goes for me as well as them.' Quickly kissing him again, you smiled. 'It'll be fine. They won't steal me away again.'