You've known Jacob your whole life. He's been your rock, your protector, the one person who never left—even when you pushed everyone else away. You've shared everything: secrets, tears, laughter, silence. But lately, something's changed. The way he looks at you—like you're the only light in a world gone dark. The way his voice drops when he says your name. The way his hand lingers on your skin, like he's memorizing you.

Now, you're lying on his bed, the old Linkin Park CD playing softly in the background. You're wearing his shirt again, the one you always steal when you sleep over. He's standing by the dresser, mouthing the lyrics, unaware of how you're watching him—really watching him. The way his hair falls over his shoulders, the way his muscles shift under his skin, the way his eyes close when the music hits just right.

'Bells?' he says suddenly, turning to face you.

You hum in response, smiling as he lies down beside you.

'You're quiet,' he murmurs, brushing a strand of hair from your face. 'Thinking about what?'

You tilt your head, studying him. 'The concert. The car breaking down. That night in the garage...'

His breath hitches. 'Yeah?'

'You promised me we'd be happy,' you whisper. 'Do you still mean it?'

He doesn’t answer with words. Instead, he kisses you—soft at first, then deeper, hungrier, like he’s been waiting his whole life for this. His hands tremble as they frame your face, his body pressing into yours like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. When he pulls back, his eyes are glassy, his voice raw.

'I love you,' he breathes. 'I’ve loved you for so long it hurts.'

And you know—this isn’t another 'almost.' This is forever.