It was unusual for me to have been met with the night and not feel the affects of lack of sleep. Having had a good night, and a solid sleep in, I remained awake, energized. I could have taken my tablet and gone to bed anyways, but I needed to return to a normal routine, only taking the medication when it was needed, not to avoid Dawson.

With darkness surrounding us, the blinds drawn down, gentle light from the television illuminated the living room, soft audio barely understandable through the speakers. Both Dawson and I were slumped in our usual spots, our stomachs full with a bought pizza Dawson had ordered and picked up from Carl's. Friday night was the night for most young adults my age to head out the the clubs after a long week of work, dance, have drinks, meet people and have a good time, but here I was, slothed out to a movie I'd never even heard of, unfocused and uninterested, yet watching it unravel. I felt agitated, irritable and somewhat frustrated. I picked at the skin around my fingernails, my brain running a hundred mile an hour as I shifted my legs beneath the blanket over my lap

"That medication" Dawson's voice pulled my attention to him "Are you having side effects?"

Clearly he had been watching me, noticing my irritability develop over the hours. Perhaps it was the medication, or perhaps it was the fact I'd only had Dawson to talk to for the last few days. He had already destroyed the one potential I'd had for other socialization with Harding, and now I was worried I'd thrown that away for a friendship with Dawson that most likely wouldn't even last. I needed something real, guaranteed.

"No" I shook my head, my fingertip now between my teeth, chewing down

"What's the issue then?" He delved, confident to push me now that we had discovered more personal details about one another

I shrugged

"What I said earlier on, about being paid for being here, it bothered you didn't it? I'm not stupid Jasmine, I'm trained to pay attention to detail, to lies" He watched me, unwavering until I gave him the truth

Again, I shrugged intending to ignore his observation, but my mouth wouldn't allow it

"Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?" His eyes narrowed

"Being here, babysitting, you can't actually enjoy it, why not ask for some rookie cop to take your place so you can go back to real work?" I snapped, my tone unintentionally cold

"There are a number of things wrong with what you just said" He leaned forward, clearly bothered by my wording, my tone, or both "First of all, this isn't babysitting, this is making sure you stay alive, making sure you're safe because you witnessed a murder, second, I do enjoy it, I probably could have done with the break anyways, I've enjoyed not being called out to horrific crime scenes, I much prefer to be here, watching TV with someone I genuinely enjoy being with"

His brutal honesty was refreshing and the rush of his words had caught me off guard. I already knew he was a poor actor, so when he spoke what he did, I believed him.

I leaned my head back, breaking the trance between us, my emotions threatening to release. I could feel myself become overwhelmed, I had hoped that having had a decent sleep that I would be more in control, but it only made me see the wider picture of reality in a much clearer sense, forcing me to face it.

"I'm sorry" I rubbed my forehead, closing my eyes

"If I didn't want to be here I wouldn't, it's that simple, but I am" He said lowly, his voice calming as mine had

I nodded, turning my eyes back to the TV, fighting back the emotions tempting to burst. I couldn't break again, not in front of him, not because of him. I concentrated on what was being said, what was happening within the movie when it suddenly turned black, startling me, darkness taking over.

Dawson was instantly on his feet, his hand reaching into the draw beside him for his weapon, always close by. The moment he drew his gun, panic set in.

"Come here" He demanded, his hand reaching out for mine, the only guide of light we had from the moon outside shining in through the open kitchen window

Without hesitation, I took a hold of Dawson's hand, attaching myself to his side like a lost little dog. My heart raced, my anxiety taking over. It was dead silent, no storm or rains to have been at blame for the loss of power, no wind. Had I been found? Was this the moment my nightmares had come true?

Holding tightly onto Dawson's hand, our elbows touching, he pulled me alongside him, peering out the living room windows to the porch. When nothing could be seen, he moved into the kitchen, scooping his phone up from charge on the bench. Opening an app, he began to assess the security of the house, a blueprint visible, green and red lines signalling doors and windows, green unlocked, red locked and armed. Motion sensors attached to the main entry points were inactive, untouched. While examining the security, a notification vibrated to light. Dawson opened the small drop box reading over the notification, and then his shoulders fell

"It's a power outage, the energy company has warned that a box has blown, they're working on having it fixed as soon as they can" Dawson revealed with a small sigh

I could have collapsed with relief, but instead I dropped my head and rubbed my eyes

"You okay?" He breathed, placing the phone down and then his weapon beside us on the bench

"Yeah" I mumbled, closing my eyes as I circled my thumb around my throbbing temple

"It's just a false alarm" He sighed back, his hands reaching up to my arms, his palms running along my skin "Think of it as a drill" He tried to joke it off

"Mhm" I grumbled as I looked up "Sure"

We were unintentionally close, the contact of his skin on mine alone making me nervous. He tried to ease me with a smile, tilting his head ever so slightly to the side "You're not afraid of the dark are you? Do you want me to check under your bed, just in case?"

I shook my head, surrendering to his humor "It's not funny"

"No? Not even a little bit?" He squinted, his hands continuing to move against my arms

My lips began to betray me, lifting into a small smile as I shook my head "No"

Standing in the dark, with all but the moon filtering shadows throughout the house gave it an almost eerie atmosphere. The dull blue and white tones reflected off the lake and a small ripple of movement glistened in the distance. It was quite, so quite that a pin could be dropped outside and we would have been able to hear it as though it were beside us.

"All good now?" Dawson's voice was low, almost a whisper as his hands paused on my arms

My eyes moved from the colors around us to his face, and despite the lack of light, I could make out small details of his appearance in a closeness I had yet to explore. His eyelashes were long and dark, a light tinge of purple hidden deeply beneath the eyes of his generously tanned skin, an even and warm sepia. I was caught in a concentration of his face, and when I raised my gaze to his hazel eyes, the color dancing with swirls of brown and green, my heart began to pound for an entirely different reason. He had been watching me as I had been watching him, pushing the boundaries of professionalism as he took in my features. My arms grew to a coldness, the skin beginning a long trail of goosebumps down to my feet.

We didn't speak, instead we stared at one another, watching, waiting, unsure of what to do next. I knew what my body wanted me to do, I knew what my mind wanted me to do, and for once, they had wanted the same thing. I knew deep down, it wasn't the time, it wasn't the place, and I could see that Dawson was having the same internal monologue argument that I was having.

Slowly his eyes drifted from my eyes to my lips, his face ever so slightly leaning into me until his forehead pressed against mine, lingering dangerously close while his hands slid down my arms, both his hands taking a hold of my own by my side.

My breathing halted, my eyes closing instinctively as I waited for the moment we gave in to the tension that had daringly surfaced over the last few weeks. I could feel his breathing against my face, slow, nervous, and when I felt the touch of his lips against mine, the sudden flicker of the television erupted back to life, igniting the room in an almost blinding light. Despite the volume having been earlier low, the adjustment from silence now made it seem like it were almost too loud for our ears to cope.

Instantly, Dawson and I pulled away from each other, creating a generous space between our bodies, all contact lost. I allowed my breathing to return, my first breath rigid and uneven.

"I uh.." I stumbled for the right words, but I couldn't find them even if they had been directly in front of me "I'm gonna head to bed" I rushed out without making another flutter of eye contact, turning to almost run upstairs.

I'd learnt the first time to keep my sleeping pills and a bottle of water in the bedroom. I was relieved that there was no genuine reason I would have to see Dawson again until necessary, I wasn't sure how I was supposed to act. The intimate moment between Dawson and I hadn't been a close one, it hadn't been an almost, it had happened. Touched lips counted as a boundary having been crossed. It was hard for me to understand the true feelings I had for this man, I knew him, but I didn't, it was confusing. I was completely aware that instead of concerning myself with the fact a murderous gang was out to have me killed, I was attempting to understand my romantic desires for the cop assigned to guard me. My priorities were twisted, or was I grasping at the soap series scenario to escape the fear I had for my attempted murder?

Sensing a headache brewing, I took my pill and settled myself in for bed. I needed sleep, when I slept, my mind cleared, I was hoping by morning I would understand the situation better.

It was incredibly easy to lose track of what time it was, and it was equally as easy to lose track of what day it was. Everyday seemed to morph into the last, and the next. I didn't like not having a routine, I didn't like that I was missing out on school, or work, or the things that made me who I was. I didn't want my experience to change too much of who I was, but as the days went on I could feel it adjusting my personality to fit the pressure I was under.

After a rough calculation, I'd assumed it was a Sunday. I had woken fairly early, rested enough to get up, tidy the bedroom, shower and saunter throughout my limited space, avoiding leaving. I knew that I couldn't hide forever and I knew that at some point, Dawson and I were going to have to face the awkwardness of what had happened. Did we talk about it, ignore it, pretend it never happened? Would I be casual about it, or was it a serious thing? I hadn't ever been in the position before to question it. I'd never had a serious relationship, the only real question I'd ever asked myself about a man had been, do I wake him up and let him know that I'm leaving or do I just leave without saying anything? The more I thought about it, the worse I felt.

With a growling stomach, and my good night's sleep having left my emotions unresolved, I surrendered to the fact I would have to confront the consequences of our actions.