"What's this?" August whispers flicking through the thick, scrap book like journal on my desk.

"It's my travelling journal, you probably don't wanna go through it." I say gently, travelling quietly across my bedroom to close it from him.

It was probably quite anti August.

August and I woke up on the sofa, like half an hour ago.

And although he should have stayed down there, it was four in the morning, we could hear Dad snoring and we both had clearly taken a nap for a few hours or more on the couch and I dunno- he just followed me up and I didn't prevent that.

"Why?"

"It has my... like feelings in." I say.

He laughs at me. "Ew."

"Exactly." I say, smiling up at him and he leans down, pressing his lips against the side of my lips and the fucker grabs my journal and heads off towards the bed.

"August." I whisper in stress and he chuckles sitting down on the edge of my bed and he opens the journal, skim reading it and flicking through the polaroids on each page.

I go to him and try and get it off him but he just brings an arm around my waist and brings me down to him, making me fall on his lap and he moves the book onto mine, us both looking down at it.

I look down at the picture from London, the note. I left.

I learned the value of small gestures. Of holding the door for strangers, of over tipping, of smiling and being kind.I learned that playing a compliment to a stranger, of doing all of these things.. can really make someone's day and seeing that smile is so worth it.

August reads over my words too and I smile a little down at them. I felt so much better just leaving, just knowing he was safe and fleeing.

God I feel bad, that he wanted me when he was in hospital.

I lean against him and he keeps me close, slowly looking through the pictures and I breathe a sigh of relief when he skips over the other writing. The pencil. The pen I used, the little notes about what I learned were what was important. The pencil writing was just me being emotional late at night.

It doesn't need to be read.

He is respecting that I think.

We flip over and it starts on Paris.

What I learnt from our one, three hour, conversation with the lovely French Café man called Henri.

He is our favourite person we've met. He overheard Luella and I talking and the sixty-odd gentleman abandoned his counter and came and sat with us for a few hours. He told us a few things about his life that I don't think Luella or I will forget.

He told us that it is okay to be emotional, to seek help, to confidently tell someone you enjoy being around them, to tell them that you are infatuated with them. He taught us that there is nothing wrong with vulnerability, with being human, for that it is what creates depth within our souls. He said any pain we've experienced; strength is not within gaining a harder outer shell, it's taking on that pain, feeling it, growing from it and remaining kind. Remaining soft.

August's thumb drifts over the words and he presses his lips down on my shoulder.

I just close my eyes a little.

My body is used to him now, used to being this close, used to what this position usually leads us to.

August flicks the page over and we read through my next little slightly embarrassingly dramatic statement.

It was about the stars mainly.

You're not just looking at stars, you're looking at infinity, you're looking at time, and space and magic.

August looks at me. "You seriously just think these things when you look at stuff?"

I look at him. "Huh?"

"You know what a star really is? It consist of a luminous spheroid of plasma and it's round ish because they have their own gravity. They're not magic, or wonderful or-"

"Shut up." I laugh. "They are magic and you are just too cynical."

"No you are just-" He sighs and makes an amused noise. "Funny."

I look at him. "Why do they shine then?"

He shakes his head. "Thermonuclear fusion of hydrogen into helium."

I pout. "Why'd you call me your sun and moon and stars if you think it's just science August?"

He smiles and returns the sulky look I was giving him with amusement. "Because science is still my favourite subject."

I narrow my eyes at him.

"I am not taking the piss out of the way you see things Emersyn, I love it."

My heart fucking stuttered.

Like I don't know if I've ever heard him say the word love. Nor do I know if it's ever been said from him in near connection to me.

"You love it?" I whisper.

He chuckles and his words come slow, tired. "I am in awe of the way you see the world."

I just shake my head at him and turn the page, he was making me wanna melt off his lap and lie on the floor, to gather myself.

I stayed wrapped in his arms.

In Spain I wrote a lot.

I wrote a lot about doing things that I love.

He taps the words on the page.

Grow. Forgive quickly. Love fiercely.

"I think I should be thankful that you went travelling and learnt all this shit."

I nod. "I for sure wouldn't be sat in your arms if I didn't."

"I know." He says quietly, looking over the pictures. "You are fucking ridiculous, you know that?"

I look at the picture he was looking at, it was literally just me, the back on my head.

I frown. "Huh?"

"You're just- nothing, don't worry."

I lift his chin with my hand. "Did you just call me nothing?"

He laughs. "You know I didn't."

"Shh." I whisper, our voices had risen.

We move the pages on, softly speaking through the other comments and something inside of me is burning.

I don't know what.

I don't know whether it's the fact I am so close to him.

I don't know whether it's because my feelings for him were growing uncontrollably and I didn't know what to do about it so it was searing me from the inside out.

Or whether it was because this journal, these notes, these experiences make me remember who I am.

At my lowest, my heartbreak, when I really did hurt every fucking day.

I remember the way I thought, the way I chose to forgive, to love the world anyway.

To just be.

To understand that from Venice, I learnt that everything happens for a reason, that sometimes you just need to breathe, trust and let go.

I felt like I was letting go, right in this second.

Of whatever I was holding onto that was stressing me out.

I want him close.

I want him here with me.

I don't owe anyone any explanation for that. I don't even owe myself, this self I am looking at down on these pages a reason as to why we are letting him close.

She knows.

She wanted him then.

She was just heartbroken.

The next page was utterly fitting, to what I just realised.

From Budapest I wrote.

I decided today that I don't regret what happened. I decided today to let go of the uncomfortable feeling in my chest whenever Luella brings him up. To forgive myself, my family, his. Him. It wasn't my fault and I can't let it change me for the worst. I have always been the person that cares. That makes effort, the person who loves without hesitation. And I like that part of me. I am not going to try and get rid of it. I will always be the person who believes in the softness of the world, in the goodness of other people, in the beauty of being open and untethered and trusting. I just understand now that just because I can focus on the light, it doesn't mean I should totally ignore the darkness. Choose to see it all, choose to fight ignorance, choose to understand people. Because otherwise...Otherwise you lose things whilst only seeing the sunlight. There's a whole world out there after the sun goes down.

"You couldn't even write my name." He whispers.

"I could, I did, I just chose not to occasionally." I tell him.

"You know that Rayne used to read to me the postcards you sent him?"

My eyebrows shoot up.

"What?"

"Yep."

"Why?" I ask.

He shrugs. "Something about Emersyn positivity being needed in my life."

"Well I mean." I laugh and he squeezes my hip, amused himself.

I pull his arm around me more and he hugs me. But then he moves me off his lap and places the book down and I get up, going to search for a top to put on and I slowly get changed, him doing the same behind me.

We climb into bed and I look at him, my arms outstretched, and he smiles, biting the inside of his cheek as he shakes his head at me.

"Come into my arms."

"No."

"August." I whisper unimpressed.

"Em."

"Here." I say, opening me legs and arms and he groans, rolling over and he moves between my legs, his head falling down on my stomach in defeat and I grin, wrapping my arms and legs around him like I am a sloth.

He laughs slowly turning around and I sit up a little, his back lent against my front as he picks up the book again.

We flick through it, me cringing a little at my references to him that he doesn't always pick up on.

He ignores the references to the other guys as well, the pictures of them. He just skips past them, he doesn't care.

He's here, he would have never laid like this before, he would never have relaxed like this without threatening me that if I told he'd kill me, but he also used to be jealous then.

He used to be possessive, to get angry if I was close to another guy.

He doesn't seem to give a shit right now.

And I don't- does that mean he's just in a better place or does that mean that what he feels for me now, if he feels anything, is nothing compared to what he thought he felt for me when he was manic?

Do you understand what I am thinking?

I dunno.

It doesn't even matter.

I just have been wondering about it, why he doesn't care.

He didn't care with Peter.

Earlier.

I yawn, closing my eyes and August lets his head fall back on me chest, looking up at me.

"Am I not crushing you?" He asks.

"I mean yeah a little but I like it."

"You are weird." He whispers.

I shrug. I like the pressure. I dunno.

"It's nice."

He turns around again, placing the journal down properly this time and he crawls up over me, his head hovering above mind.

I pout, his weight now on his knees and hands, not on me.

"You are weird." He whispers.

I just glower a little.

"Stop being mean to me." I whisper back. "I could kick you out, you know?"

He nods. "I know."

"I could remove touching privileges."

He smirks, I say this because his hand was softly trailing my thigh, my thigh which has moved to press against his waist.

"You could."

"I could just stop speaking to you." I whisper back.

He smiles and lowers his head close to mine. "I dare you."

My eyes widen, those words.

"We shouldn't play dares, it gets us in trouble." I whisper.

"Mhm." He hums back. We were being so quiet and I was really fucking close to closing the gap between us.

But I also knew we couldn't.

Like that would be a bad bad idea.

"We should sleep." I whisper.

"We should."

I lean up and press a kiss really quickly on his lips. Pulling a way immediately. "Good night."

He breaths a laugh and rolls off me, both of us moving quietly to pull the covers up.

"I mean technically I should go downstairs." He says.

I nod. "Yes."

"Oops." August whispers in response and I smile, turning my back to him and he moves close, as if magnetically attached to me.

I laugh, hugging his arm which came around me and pushing myself closer when he wraps his legs under me from behind.

I close my eyes.

"What are we doing tomorrow?" I whisper quietly.

"Going to mine."

"What are we doing there?"

"Um, cooking, baking? The usual shit that happens when they get all of us together."

"When are we going back to uni?" I ask.

He chuckles. "Fuck Em, stop saying we."

I shrink. "Sorry."

He hugs me tighter. "I'll bring us both back to uni in the evening. Have you got work to do?"

I shake my head. "Not really."

"Okay." He says quietly and I relax into his hold, we both fall into silence.

Just holding each other.

Fuck. Just hell, you know?

I think he has to have some sort of feelings towards me right?

Like for us to be like this.

I press into him and he responds, moving us together tighter and I admit, it was me, who moves my hips a little pressing against him and he presses his face into the crook of my neck.

"Are you awake?" He whispers.

"Yeah." I breath and August moves against me quietly, gently, but I can feel it, his slow growing excitement.

It sent a shiver up my spine, my eyes closing again and I sink into the feeling, rocking my hips back on him.

I just have a large top on, it was his or Rayne's or someone's I dunno, but it was slowly riding up, just my underwear pressing against his shorts and I know we shouldn't but-

Well I mean we were.

Quiet, tired, August rocked himself against me, only thin material separating us and I couldn't help but respond to him, grinding myself back against him.

In little time, August lips were hot against my neck, my finger nails digging into his arm as we moved in the unusual, delicious rhythm that made no noise, just burned me from the inside out.

His rhythm became more controlled, deeper and his hand was travelling down to my underwear and I bit my lip from making any noise as it felt really good, just slowly moving together.

I honestly was throbbing, it was a mess, his arm wrapped around me, under my top, his hand travelling into my underwear.

I gasp.

"Shush." He says almost harshly. "No sounds."

Fuck.

His lips attached to my neck, kissing me deeply and I just continued to ground myself back against him, his leg sneaking against mine and he was fully hard now, the friction between my thighs really freaking good.

He slowly tugged my underwear down and I reached down to help, his hand now bringing himself out of his shorts and I screw my eyes tight, pressing my hand again my lips when he rocks into me from behind, my back arching for him to slide deeper and we both sort of freeze at the contact.

This happened quickly.

I move in the same rhythm as I was before and his breathing is deep, heavy and slowly he moves in and out of me, both of us utterly over taken by the sensation and I reach across the bed and hold desperately onto the sheet to grip onto something.

August whispers a small curse in to my ear and I hum quietly, gasping at him hitting into me shaper.

His hand raises from between my legs to cover my lips and I replace his hand down their with my own and he picks up pace and we both freeze when we hear the bed post hit the wall.

That happens a lot with us.

August curses and slows down but I need, my fingers were circling and I freaking need him faster and I wanna cry.

I pull away and like roll off the bed, reaching up for his hand and I pull him with me to the floor and he laughs, I just pull him closer and then he's hovering above me.

"Shh." I whisper and our lips connect and shit, shit because he's back there and thrusting in and out of me and soon our kisses are distracted, our lips paused, open in pleasure and I cling to him, our movements fast, quick.

Fucking hell August.

I am leant on my elbows on my rug, my back arched against him, moving with him to pull him further in and we are slamming together, both of us trying to be quiet but forgetting ourselves a little as he curses and I gasp.

I gasp because I was really close and I didn't know what to do, I move my lips to his jaw and then his neck and I suck on his skin to keep quiet, the sensation making him let out a noise from deep in his throat and he rocks himself deeper and harder into me.

I suck harder, clenching around him and I fall apart, clinging to him and I feel his thrusts go hard and then suddenly he's out and he coming undone on my front, between us and his heavy breathing is mixed with mine.

I drop back, looking sort of shocked at him. We forgot a condom, but he remembered at the last minute, so he pulled out.

I press my lips to his gently and he kisses me back, tired, lazily.

I am a mess.

I was.

I fall back, looking up at him.

"I'm sorry." He whispers and I shake my head, sitting up and he sits back and pulls my top off, using it to wipe the rest off of me.

I just slowly move closer, climbing into his lap and he holds me.

He stands up, carrying me and placing me back on the bed.

I watch him with drowsy eyes as he stands, folding the top up and placing it in my wash basket and I watch him go into my bag and sift through it, finding my usual night dress and then he goes into my bathroom.

He comes back with a wet wash cloth and kneels slightly on the bed, taking care of me like he does and then he helps me slip my arms back into a dress and he redresses me.

Shit.

Just shit.

I um... I close my eyes and he slides back into bed with me, wrapping me up in his arms and we don't exchange any words as I turn into his chest and fall pretty much straight asleep.

No words really needed to be said.

....

I wake up with August getting changed for the day, his toothbrush in his mouth as he slides his trousers up.

I just watch him.

"Ima just open the door Emersyn." He mumbles. "So when you're parents wake up they can look in and see us not up to anything."

I nod.

I was tired, but I just stay snuggled in bed as he opens the door.

"You okay?" I ask and he nods.

"Yeah I didn't mean to wake you up."

I shake my head and he goes and rinses his mouth.

He comes and sprawls out on the bed and I smile at him, rubbing my face to get the sleep out of my eyes.

My eyes zero in on his jumper and I move forward, pulling the collar down to look for the mark I left on him.

I wince. They're not usually that noticeable, if I ever do leave marks, not like the purple marks on me that he leaves.

"Oops."

He chuckles and pushes my hand away. "The sweater covers it."

I nod. "Don't take it off."

"Hope mum doesn't try and boil us to death today then."

"Mm." I hum, clutching the sheets to my chest. I was dressed, some how, I don't remember getting clothes back on. I just look at him.

"I could cover it with makeup?" I ask.

He blinks at me. "I don't know if you have noticed Em, but I doubt our foundation SHADES would match."

I press my lips together, ha. "It's early, ok?"

He chuckles and shakes his head at me.

I just collapse back on the bed, watching him sit up more and pull away from me, just chilling at the end of my bed as we look at each other.

He was being careful.

I sort of enjoyed that. I moved my leg closer, pressing my foot against his knee and he watched me.

I wake up a little charged in the mornings.

Always do.