The light that saves me.

by girlwithadhd

Summary:

James Hendricks has spent his life avoiding attachments, preferring the strict order of the military to the chaos of relationships. But his carefully controlled world shatters when his teenage niece, Emily Stevensons, is placed in his care after her parents lose custody. James wants nothing to do with her, seeing her as nothing more than a burden.

Emily, however, has other plans. Determined to break through her uncle’s icy exterior, she challenges him at every turn. What begins as an unwanted arrangement soon evolves into something more profound—more physical.

Chapter 1: Unwelcome Beginnings

Summary:

James Hendricks, a reluctant and stoic military man, is confronted by a social worker who delivers his 15-year-old niece, Emily. Despite his protests and aversion to caring for a teenager or children, James ultimately gives in and lets her into his home, setting the stage for an unwelcome and uncertain new chapter in his life.

Notes:

The actions mentioned in this story are fictional, and I condemn them in real life. Read at your own risk.

The door swung open, and there she was. The woman in the sharp grey pantsuit, clipboard clutched to her chest, looked at him like he was a last resort. And next to her, standing stiffly with her hands buried in her hoodie pockets, was a fifteen-year-old girl. Teenager. The exact creature he’d rather avoid for the rest of his life.

Thirty-two-year-old James Hendricks didn’t believe in fate, but he was tempted to think that if it did exist, it had a twisted sense of humor. Here he was, home on a leave from the military, intending to enjoy some long-overdue peace—peace he thought he’d earned, even if his therapist still doubted it. Instead, he found himself looking down at these two, the embodiment of everything he tried to escape: responsibility, vulnerability, the demands of family he’d successfully outrun for over a decade.

His thoughts raced. What could she want from me? But before he could conjure up the energy to ask, his eyes shifted to the teenager. Dark, rebellious eyes behind unruly hair. A girl who looked like she’d rather be anywhere but here. He tried to push down the frustration bubbling up in his chest.

“Of all things,” he mused internally, “I signed up to protect people from real danger, not… be some reluctant caretaker for an angst-ridden teenager.” He let the idea roll around in his mind, trying to comprehend it. No matter how much he steeled himself for life’s chaos, he wasn’t prepared for this.

It was strange how quickly a house could start feeling claustrophobic when life decided to walk up and introduce itself as his sister’s kid.

The woman in the suit cleared her throat, a practiced sound meant to command attention. “Mr. Hendricks,” she said, her voice steady but weary, “I’m Marie Collins from Social Services. We spoke on the phone.”

James crossed his arms over his broad chest, leaning against the doorframe. “Right. I remember,” he replied flatly, though he had been hoping she might have forgotten about him. His eyes darted once more to the girl, who was now looking intently at the ground, her shoulders hunched like she was bracing for a storm.

Marie took a small breath, adjusting her grip on the clipboard. “I understand this is sudden and… complicated,” she began, her words carefully chosen, “but your sister and her husband are in no position to provide the necessary environment for their daughter. The court’s decision is final, and as her uncle, you are the closest relative willing—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” James cut her off, a hint of panic creeping into his otherwise stoic demeanor. “I never said I was willing. You think I want to take care of a teenager?” He gestured sharply, as if the idea itself was absurd. “I don’t do… kids, or whatever you call a fifteen-year-old. I barely manage to take care of myself.”

The girl flinched at his words, but she didn’t look up. Marie’s expression hardened slightly, but she maintained her professional calm. “Mr. Hendricks, this isn’t about what you want. This is about what’s best for Emily.” She gestured to the silent girl, who shifted uncomfortably at hearing her name. “She needs stability, somewhere safe. Your sister’s situation is… not safe.”

James ran a hand over his face, feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on. “Look, I’m sure there’s got to be someone better for this. A family friend, a distant cousin… someone who actually likes children.”

Marie’s eyes narrowed slightly. “If there were a better option, do you think I’d be standing here?” Her tone took on a slight edge. “The truth is, there isn’t anyone else. You’re it.”

James’s jaw clenched. He stared at Emily, who now seemed impossibly small, despite her defiant posture. He looked back at Marie, hoping she’d break down and admit this was all a terrible mistake. But she didn’t waver.

He let out a heavy sigh, feeling the weight of inevitability sinking in. “I… I don’t think I can do this,” he muttered, his voice raw and uncertain, a rare crack in his armor.

Marie didn’t soften. “You don’t have to be perfect,” she replied. “But you have to try.”

James stood there, silent and unmoving, as Marie’s words hung heavy in the air. His mind whirred through a million thoughts, each one more desperate than the last, but all leading to the same dead end. There was no way out of this, no easy escape from the responsibility he had spent most of his adult life avoiding.

He exhaled slowly, the resignation settling into his bones. The fight drained from his expression, and something inside him seemed to sag. With a brief, almost imperceptible nod, he stepped back and opened the door wider. The gesture was reluctant, but it was still an invitation—a surrender to the inevitable.

Emily hesitated for a moment, as if unsure whether to cross the threshold. Her eyes flickered up to his, but James had already turned away, retreating into the dimly lit hallway. She followed, stepping carefully over the worn-out welcome mat, clutching her backpack tighter. The sound of her footsteps echoed softly as she entered the house, and the door closed behind her with a quiet click, sealing the two strangers in a shared silence.

James didn’t look back. Instead, he kept moving, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, bracing himself for the chaos that had just been let into his home.

Notes:

Hey everyone! I’m girlwithadhd, and for starters, I’m not a native English speaker. Writing in English is a challenge, but it’s one I’m excited to take on. Thank you for joining me on this journey—I hope you enjoy the story!

with love, girl with adhd.

Chapter 2: Unwanted Responsibility

Summary:

James stands tense in his living room, confronted by his 15-year-old niece, Emily. As he observes her nervous demeanor and appearance, he questions her about her situation. His frustration and reluctance to accept responsibility for her become evident as he struggles to navigate this unexpected change in his life.

James stood rigidly in the middle of the living room, the air thick with tension. He glanced around, taking in the familiar yet suddenly foreign space—his neat rows of books, the worn couch that had seen better days, the silent clock ticking ominously in the background. Behind him, Emily stood quietly, her presence a stark reminder of the responsibility he never asked for.

“What’s your name?” he asked, keeping his tone neutral, almost casual.

“Emily,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

He turned slightly to observe her. She was fidgeting with the hem of her oversized hoodie, her thin frame barely filling it out. Emily’s dark hair hung in loose waves around her face, partially obscuring her wide, expressive eyes—eyes that were a mix of hazel and green, reflecting a blend of fear and defiance. A smattering of freckles dusted her nose, remnants of childhood that seemed incongruous with the teenager she was now. She stood with her shoulders hunched, almost as if she were trying to make herself smaller, yet there was a spark of resilience in her posture that James couldn’t ignore.

Now, she was a stranger—a child he hardly knew, thrust into his life with no warning. James felt an uncomfortable knot tightening in his stomach as he studied her.

“Where are your parents?” he asked suddenly, the words coming out harsher than he intended. “What have they done this time? Your mother… That fuck—she’s been drinking again, hasn’t she huh?”

Emily flinched at his words, her eyes dropping to the floor, and for a moment, the silence hung heavy between them. The realization hit him hard—he didn’t just want answers; he wanted to understand how everything had gone so wrong.

Emily’s gaze fell to the floor, her fingers twisting nervously around the fabric of her hoodie. The silence stretched on, suffocating and uncomfortable. James couldn’t shake the anger building within him, a mix of frustration at his sister’s choices and the resentment bubbling up at being thrust into this situation.

“Look at me,” he commanded, his voice sharper than he meant. When Emily didn’t respond, he took a step closer, forcing her to meet his gaze. “I’m not your babysitter, and I sure as hell didn’t sign up for this. Your mother had one job—to keep you safe. And now, I’m stuck with you because she can’t handle it.”

Emily’s eyes welled with tears, but she held them back, her expression a blend of defiance and hurt. James felt a fleeting pang of guilt, but he quickly pushed it away. This wasn’t his fault; he had no obligation to care for her. She was just a reminder of everything he wanted to escape, a burden he never wanted to bear.

“Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to adjust to this?” he continued, his voice low and rough. “I’m not equipped to deal with a teenager, especially one whose life is a mess because of her parents. What do you expect me to do? Play the role of the caring uncle?”

Emily opened her mouth, but no words came out. She simply stared at him, the weight of his words hanging between them. James felt a surge of irritation. Why couldn’t she just be quiet for once?

“I need you to understand something,” he said, crossing his arms. “I don’t want to be here. I don’t want you here. But until I can figure something out, you’ll just have to make yourself comfortable. I can’t guarantee it’ll be pleasant.”

With that, he turned away, leaving Emily standing alone in the living room. The knot in his stomach tightened further as he retreated to the kitchen, trying to ignore the knot of emotions stirring inside him. This was not his fight, and he had no intention of letting it become one.

Notes:

Hello everyone! I will do my best to upload new chapters three times a week. I appreciate your support and feedback along the way. Thank you for joining me on this crazy adventure—I hope you enjoy the story as it unfolds!

with love, girl with adhd.

Chapter 3: Strangers bound by blood

Summary:

Emily and James navigate an uneasy silence, each burdened by the other’s presence, as tension lingers in the air between them.

Two days had passed, each one dragging on like an eternity. The tension in James’s small house had settled like a heavy, invisible fog. Emily slept on the worn-out couch, her makeshift bed hastily arranged with an old blanket and a pillow that had seen better days. She tried to make herself as small as possible, curling into the cushions, as though trying to disappear.

James barely acknowledged her presence. He moved around the house with purposeful strides, his jaw clenched, eyes averted. Every interaction they could have had was instead replaced by a suffocating silence. He left her meals on the small dining table and disappeared into another room, making sure to keep his distance.

He had spent the past two days glued to his phone, dialing every family member he could think of. Conversations filled with desperation and frustration echoed through the house, his voice rising and falling as he pleaded, argued, and tried to negotiate some other arrangement for Emily. Each call ended the same way: no one was willing or able to take her in. It seemed the burden of caring for Emily was one no one else wanted to shoulder.

James’s resentment simmered beneath the surface, bubbling up every time he glanced at the figure sleeping on his couch. He felt trapped, cornered, like life had played a cruel joke on him, and Emily was the punchline. He told himself it wasn’t his fault—he didn’t ask for this, didn’t deserve to be forced into this unwanted role. Yet, no amount of phone calls or empty reassurances seemed to change the reality he was now facing.

And so, the days dragged on, with Emily still there, unwanted and silent, as James tried—and failed—to push her out of his life.

 

o

 

Emily sat stiffly on the edge of the couch, clutching the old blanket James had given her. It didn’t smell like home; nothing here did. The past two days had blurred together in a haze of unease and silence, with James barely acknowledging her existence. She tried not to make noise, tried not to be in his way, but the tension never eased.

When she heard his footsteps approaching, she straightened up, bracing herself. He entered the living room, looking exhausted and annoyed, as he had every time she’d seen him. He stopped and sighed heavily, running a hand through his short hair. Emily swallowed, her heart beating faster.

“You,” he said abruptly, making her flinch. “Are you still in school?”

His tone was so detached, almost as if he were talking to a stranger. She was his niece, wasn’t she ? Emily nodded quickly. “Yeah,” she answered, her voice barely more than a whisper.

James’s expression didn’t change, but he crossed his arms over his chest, as if he was assessing a problem that needed solving. “Good. When do you go?” he demanded.

“Usually at eight,” she said, hesitating. Her hands fidgeted with the edge of the blanket. “But I’m not… I don’t know where the school is from here.”

James’s scowl deepened, as though the inconvenience she presented was too much to bear. “Fine. I’ll figure it out,” he muttered, sounding more irritated than anything else. Emily tried not to let it sting, but the truth was, his coldness hurt. It was a sharp reminder that she was unwanted here.

Just as she thought he might leave, James paused, turning back to her with an almost commanding presence. “You need to get ready for school tomorrow,” he said, his tone brisk and businesslike. “What’s the name of your school?”

She hesitated, her heart racing. “It’s called Oakwood High,” she said quietly.

He nodded, almost dismissively, as if her answer was just another item checked off his mental list. “Are you in middle school or high school?” he asked, his impatience evident.

“High school,” she replied softly, her cheeks warming under his gaze.

James let out a breath, shaking his head slightly as if her presence and everything that came with it were a massive inconvenience. Emily felt a flicker of hope, thinking maybe he was trying to help her, but it quickly faded as he moved on.

“Great. Just try to stay out of my way,” he said, his tone cold and final. She felt the weight of his words settle heavily in the air, filling her with a deep sense of isolation.

Before she could muster the courage to say anything else, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving her clutching her blanket, feeling more invisible than ever.

She glanced at the empty doorway where James had just been. Every interaction with him felt like stepping on shards of glass, each word carefully chosen to avoid setting him off.

She’d heard stories about him growing up. Her parents had always spoken about her “uncle the soldier” with a strange mixture of pride and strength. But sitting here now, Emily saw none of that. All she saw was a man who looked worn down, angry at the world—and at her, for reasons she couldn’t understand.

Whatever had broken him felt aimed at her. Every time he looked at her, she saw resentment in his eyes, a reminder that she wasn’t welcome here.

Yet, as much as his coldness hurt, Emily felt a small, stubborn hope inside her. He was her only family for now. A part of her wanted to know him, to understand who he was beyond the anger and bitterness. But the wall he’d put up between them felt insurmountable. She wasn’t sure if he would ever let her in or if she’d remain just a burden in his eyes.

With a shaky breath, she pulled the blanket closer, letting the silence settle around her. For now, all she could do was wait and hope.

Notes:

Little update! I think this is my longest chapter for now.

Next chapter will probably « start » their relationship or maybe i’ll drag it on.. we’ll see !!

Thanks for reading <3

with love, girl with adhd.

Chapter 4: The Phone Call ?

Summary:

James reluctantly deals with the consequences of his actions, and in the process, a small shift happens between him and Emily—one that neither of them fully understands yet.

Notes:

Sorry for the long wait, I’ve had some personal issues but I’m back now! In an effort to make up for the wait, Chapter 4 is a bit longer... I’ve also seen some comments I haven’t responded to yet, but I promise I’ll get to them soon. Thank you again for all your comments, they really mean a lot to me! I’m currently working on Chapter 8, so the next ones will be coming very soon. I

with love, girlwithadhd.

James pulled up to the curb in front of the school, slowing the car to a halt. He noticed Emily shift uncomfortably as she glanced out the window, her gaze landing on a group of girls standing near the entrance. They seemed to spot her instantly, exchanging glances before making their way toward the car. Emily’s face tensed slightly, but she didn’t say anything.

James took in the scene with disinterest, ready to drive off as soon as she stepped out. But a thought crossed his mind, and he scowled, annoyed at himself for even caring enough to think about it.

“Hey,” he called out, making her pause as she unbuckled her seatbelt. “What’s your phone number?”

Emily turned back, blinking in confusion. “I… I don’t have one,” she mumbled, her voice low, almost embarrassed.

James’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening in frustration. Of course she didn’t have a phone. Nothing was ever simple with her.

“You don’t have a phone?” he repeated, his voice sharp with irritation. “Your parents—”

Emily didn’t respond, only looking down, her fingers fidgeting with the strap of her backpack. The silence was enough to irritate him even more, and he let out a frustrated sigh.

“Whatever,” he muttered, waving a hand dismissively. “Just go to class and don’t cause any problems.”

Without waiting for a response, he turned his gaze forward, watching as she opened the door and stepped out, her shoulders slightly hunched as she adjusted her bag. The group of girls was already waiting, casting curious glances at James’s car before one of them gave Emily a wave. He barely gave them a second glance, already itching to get back home.

As Emily walked toward the school, James pulled away from the curb, his thoughts already elsewhere. Whatever her issues were, they weren’t his problem. She was here because he had no other choice. That was all.

 

o

 

James barely had time to settle back into his chair when his phone buzzed, breaking the brief silence of his empty living room. He glanced at the screen, his irritation spiking as he saw the caller ID: Social Services. Rolling his eyes, he hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether or not to ignore it. But he knew that avoiding them would only bring more trouble.

With a sigh, he picked up the call. "Yeah, James here," he muttered, his tone as flat as his patience.

"Good morning, Mr. Hendricks," came the smooth, professional voice on the other end. "This is Mrs. Collins from Social Services. I wanted to check in on Emily's transition to your home. I understand these arrangements can be challenging, and we want to ensure that both you and Emily are adapting well."

James clenched his jaw, feeling the familiar wave of irritation rise in his chest. "Look, she’s here, isn’t she?" he replied curtly. "I’m handling it though I'd rather not."

There was a pause, and he could almost imagine Mrs. Collins’ carefully measured response on the other end. "Mr. Hendricks, we want to ensure Emily feels safe and supported. She’s been through a lot of changes recently, and it’s important that she has a stable environment."

James resisted the urge to scoff. Stable environment. Right. Like he had any idea how to create that for anyone, let alone a teenage girl he barely knew. He ran a hand through his hair, struggling to keep his frustration in check. "She’s alive. That's good right?" he replied, his tone barely concealing his impatience.

Mrs. Collins didn’t seem deterred. "We’re here to support you as well, Mr. Hendricks. If there’s anything you need, or if you feel overwhelmed, please don’t hesitate to reach out. It’s essential that Emily feels she has someone she can rely on."

James gritted his teeth, biting back a retort. "Yeah, well, she’s only here because no one else could—would take her. I didn’t ask for this," he said bluntly.

There was a brief silence, and he thought he heard a sigh on the other end of the line. "I understand, Mr. Hendricks. But Emily needs stability and care. If you have any concerns or difficulties, we can arrange additional support."

"Noted," James replied shortly, eager to end the conversation. "Is that all?"

"For now," Mrs. Collins said, her tone unwavering. "But we’ll be checking in regularly to monitor Emily’s well-being. Please remember that she’s been placed with you because we believe it’s in her best interest."

James grunted in response, already done with the call in his mind. "Fine. Have a good day, then."

"Thank you, Mr. Hendricks. Please reach out if you need anything." And with that, the line went silent.

James tossed his phone onto the table, letting out a long, frustrated sigh. Support. Stability. All those empty words thrown at him like he was supposed to know what to do with them. He’d spent years in environments that were anything but stable, and now they expected him to play family with a teenager he barely remembered?

Shaking his head, he stood up and wandered into the kitchen, trying to push the conversation out of his mind.

 

o

 

It was 6:00 PM when James woke up with a jolt, his eyes snapping open as the realization hit him like a ton of bricks. The clock on the wall showed the time, and for a moment, he didn’t move. His mind was still foggy from his unplanned nap, but then it clicked. Emily.

He shot out of the chair, cursing under his breath. He’d completely forgotten to pick her up. The rush of panic surged through him before he could stop it, but he quickly squashed it down. It was just a stupid mistake, right? She could wait a little longer. But still, something made him grab his keys and head for the door at a speed he didn’t even know he had in him.

When he arrived at the school, the parking lot was almost empty, the evening sky fading into dusk. He spotted her almost immediately, sitting on the steps by the entrance, her head down, her shoulders shaking.

Great. Just great.

James’s eyes narrowed, and for a second, he considered turning around and heading home. But he couldn’t. He hadn’t come this far to leave her stranded.

He trudged over to where she sat, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "What the hell are you doing out here?" he snapped, more harshly than he intended. "You know I’m not a mind reader, right?"

Emily looked up at him, her eyes red and puffy from crying. Her face was streaked with tears, and despite the anger brewing in James’s chest, a small part of him flickered with guilt. But it was quickly snuffed out. She didn’t need sympathy, not from him.

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, her voice barely above a whisper. "I... I didn’t know where you were."

"Yeah, I get that. It’s what happens when you don’t have a phone," James muttered, his voice cold, his frustration mixing with a little annoyance. "That’s exactly why you need one."

Emily flinched at his words, her lip trembling. She said nothing, just looked down at her feet as if trying to shrink into herself. James watched her for a moment, unsure of what to feel. She wasn’t his responsibility. She wasn’t anyone he asked for.

"Come on," he muttered, pulling open the passenger side door of the car. "Get in. I’m not going to sit here all day."

He didn't wait for her response, already starting the engine as Emily hesitantly climbed into the car. He didn’t speak again as he drove, the tension in the air thick with unspoken words.

The silence was deafening, and yet, part of him couldn’t shake the image of her sitting there, alone, waiting. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was just the inconvenience. Either way, he didn’t know how to fix it—hell, he didn’t even know if he wanted to.

After a brief, awkward drive, James pulled into the parking lot of a local electronics store. He didn’t say anything as he got out of the car and walked to the entrance, Emily following behind him, still silent. The air between them was thick with unspoken tension.

Inside, he quickly picked out the cheapest phone they had. It wasn’t much, just a basic model with a cracked screen. But it would do.

"Here," James said, handing her the phone with a slight grunt, "Now you can call... next time you’re stranded, I guess."

Emily took the phone from him, her fingers brushing his for a second. For a split moment, their eyes met, and she offered him a small, almost imperceptible smile. She tried to hide it quickly, as if it was something she shouldn’t be doing.

James’s eyes narrowed as he watched her, a flicker of something he couldn’t quite identify crossing his mind. She knows how to smile, huh?

He didn’t know why it bothered him, but it did.

"Anyway," he muttered, turning his gaze away, "Let’s get going."

As they walked back to the car, Emily held the phone tightly in her hand, her smile still lingering at the edges of her face, despite her attempts to hide it.

Chapter 5: Breaking Point

Summary:

Emily begins to assert herself in the tense environment, facing the challenges of living with James. As she tries to understand his behavior, James retreats into his own anger, creating a growing divide between them.

The drive back home was uneventful. The silence between them felt heavier than usual, but neither of them seemed inclined to break it. Emily fiddled with the phone in her lap, her fingers hesitating over the buttons. She didn’t know what to do with it, hadn’t had a chance to figure it out.

As they pulled into the driveway, James killed the engine and glanced at her.

“You know how to turn it on?” he asked, his voice sharp, but with a hint of something else—impatience.

Emily’s eyes darted to the phone in her hands, then back up at him. “Uh… no.”

James exhaled sharply, a mix of frustration and disbelief. “Seriously? How were you even raised?”

He didn’t wait for a response as he slammed the door and walked into the house. Emily followed, feeling a familiar unease crawl up her spine. She wasn’t used to being around people like James—people who didn’t sugarcoat anything, didn’t hold back their irritation when things weren’t perfect. But at the same time, it was better than pretending everything was fine, like she was used to with her parents.

Inside, James threw his keys on the counter and turned back to Emily, who was still standing by the door, holding the phone awkwardly.

“Alright,” he started, rubbing his temples. “Give me the damn thing. I’ll show you how it works.”

He snatched the phone from her hands before she could protest, and his fingers moved quickly, tapping through the settings, swiping through screens. Emily stood silently, watching him as he set it up.

James’s frustration wasn’t really directed at her, but she could feel it radiating off him anyway. “You press here for calls, here for texts,” he explained, not looking up as he fumbled with the phone. “The camera’s here. Don’t mess with anything else, alright?”

Emily nodded, feeling embarrassed, but not saying a word. She didn’t know how to tell him that she didn’t want to bother him, that she was already a burden.

“Don’t you ever just—” James cut himself off, biting back more words. “Just… get the hang of it. You should be able to do this yourself. You're a teen.”

There was a moment of silence between them. He turned away, clearly done with the lesson, and Emily stood there, still holding the phone in her hand. She hesitated for a moment, then spoke up, her voice small but determined, "Can I have your number?"

James stopped in his tracks, turning slowly to face her. There was a brief flash of annoyance in his eyes. "What for?" he asked, his voice tight.

"Just in case something happens... or if I need to reach you," Emily said quietly, not meeting his gaze. She felt awkward asking, but she knew it was necessary—especially after everything that had happened today.

James rolled his eyes, clearly irritated by the request. "Fine," he muttered, pulling his phone from his pocket. He entered his number quickly and handed the phone to her. "There. Happy now?"

Emily took the phone, feeling the weight of it in her hands, but before she could say anything else, James let out a long sigh.

"Now go eat, or just... get out of my sight for a bit," he snapped, his voice dripping with irritation. "I've seen enough of you for today."

As Emily turned to head toward the kitchen, she hesitated for a moment before speaking up again. "James…"

He stopped in his tracks, clearly not in the mood for more questions. "What now?" he muttered, turning back to face her.

Emily bit her lip, unsure of how to phrase it. "Why... why are you so different today? You didn’t... seem as angry when we were... at the store."

James let out a heavy sigh, rubbing his temples as if trying to ward off a headache. "Great," he muttered, clearly annoyed. "You're already trying to figure me out. Don’t bother."

Emily winced, but before she could respond, James spoke again, his voice gruff. "And why’d you suddenly find your voice today, huh? You didn’t say much the past couple of days."

Emily blinked, caught off guard by the question. She had been quieter around him, afraid to push his buttons. But now, with everything happening, she found herself asking things she hadn’t planned on.

James raised an eyebrow, his tone even more irritated than before. "You were silent for days, and now you start talking. What gives?"

Emily didn’t have an answer, so she simply looked down at the floor, unsure what to say.

James let out another sigh, obviously not expecting a real answer. "Whatever," he muttered, walking away to his room. "I’m done with this."

"James... wait," she said, her voice trembling slightly.

He turned back, eyes narrowing with irritation. "You're pissing me off kid." he snapped, his patience clearly running out.

"I just... I just want to know you," Emily blurted out, feeling a surge of vulnerability. "I know you probably hate me... but you're my only family now... I don't have anyone else..."

James’s face twisted with anger at her words. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. "Family?" he spat, his voice venomous. "Stop talking about family. I don’t have a family, and neither do you. So don’t act like you’re some damn orphan looking for a savior."

Emily took a step back, her heart racing at the intensity in his voice. She hadn’t expected this reaction—she just wanted him to understand how alone she felt. But James wasn’t having it.

"Don't talk about family," he repeated, his voice rising, his anger apparent in every word. "I’m not your family, and I’m sure as hell not gonna pretend to be."

The rage in his eyes was enough to make her shrink back, but she stood her ground. "You think I believe in family?" she whispered, feeling the sting of his words deep in her chest. "I don’t. Not anymore... But that doesn’t mean I’m closed off. I don’t know why you’re so angry at the world, or why you can’t even look at me without glaring like I’m some problem," she said, trying to keep her voice controlled. "But just because I don’t trust people, just because I don’t expect anything from anyone, doesn’t mean I’m going to shut myself off completely... Not like you are doing right now..."

James didn’t turn around. He kept his gaze fixed on the wall, his jaw clenched tight. But Emily wasn’t done.

"I’m not asking for you to be some kind of hero, or to pretend like you care—I know you don't," she continued. "I’m just saying... maybe you could try not to push me away every time I try to talk to you... I get it okay we don’t have to be family... but we don’t have to be strangers either... I just need someone James..."

There was a long pause. Emily could feel the weight of his silence, but she refused to back down. She wasn’t going to let him dismiss her feelings again.

Finally, James muttered under his breath, though she could tell he wasn’t really speaking to her. "You don’t know what you're asking for."

She nodded slowly, feeling a mix of frustration and understanding. "Yeah... I don’t but maybe you should start asking yourself why you’re so afraid to let someone in..."

Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away, leaving James alone in the hallway, the words hanging between them like an unresolved question.

 

o

 

After the confrontation with Emily, James couldn’t stand the tension in the house any longer. His mind raced with anger and frustration, and the last thing he wanted was to sit in silence, stewing over everything. Without saying a word, he grabbed his coat, slammed the door behind him, and headed to the nearest liquor store.

The evening air was cold against his skin, but he didn’t feel it. His thoughts were consumed by the exchange, by Emily’s words. “We don’t have to be family, but we don’t have to be strangers either.” He scoffed at the thought. Who the hell does she think she is?

He bought a few bottles of whiskey, some cans of beer, and didn’t care about the cost. He barely noticed the cashier’s look as he handed over the money.

Back home, the house felt even emptier than before. The silence was suffocating, and all he wanted was to drown it out. James poured himself a drink, his hands shaking just slightly as he lifted the glass to his lips. He drank, then drank more, and then drank until the world around him felt a little less sharp, a little less real. The TV blared in the background, but he wasn’t watching. His mind kept circling back to Emily, to the frustration of being in this situation. By the time the sun had set, James had lost track of how much he’d drunk. The alcohol was doing its job—numbing him, dulling the pain of everything he didn’t want to think about.

When the bottle was empty, he slouched back against the couch, too tired, too drunk to move. He glanced over at Emily’s makeshift bed on the couch, the blankets piled up in the corner. A bitter laugh escaped him. The girl was still here, still forcing her way into his life, whether he wanted it or not. His vision blurred as he reached for another drink. But before he could open it, the world tilted, and he collapsed back against the cushions, his body heavy and uncooperative. The bottle slipped from his hand, landing on the floor with a soft thud. The room felt like it was spinning.

James closed his eyes, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him harder than ever, and soon, the noise of the world disappeared, replaced by the deep, quiet darkness of sleep.

Notes:

Hey everyone! I hope you enjoy this chapter—it’s a bit intense, but it was important to show this side of James. Thank you for your patience and your amazing comments; they always make my day! Don’t hesitate to share your thoughts, I love hearing from you all. ❤️

with love, girlwithadhd.

Chapter 6: Small Gestures

Summary:

Emily and James navigate an unexpectedly tense and quiet morning, marked by small but telling interactions that reveal more about their uneasy dynamic.

Emily stood in the doorway, staring at the scene before her. The living room was a mess—empty bottles, crumpled papers, and scattered clothes. Her eyes locked onto James, who was sprawled across the couch, his face contorted in a grimace as if he were fighting a nightmare. His breathing was heavy, ragged, and for a moment, she wasn’t sure whether he was fully asleep or just too drunk to move.

She sighed, pulling the towel from the kitchen and gently dabbing his forehead. His skin was warm and clammy to the touch, and she couldn’t help but feel a pang of something—a mixture of sympathy and discomfort. She hated seeing him like this, but at the same time, there was an odd part of her that couldn’t look away. James stirred under the cool towel, his brow furrowing in response to her touch. For a moment, Emily considered leaving him to sleep it off, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to rest until things were at least somewhat in order. She started cleaning the mess around him, picking up bottles and tossing them into the trash, all while doing her best to stay quiet, not wanting to disturb him.

As she moved about the room, her eyes kept drifting back to James. Despite the disarray around him, there was something strangely magnetic about the way he looked in that moment—vulnerable, yet somehow still imposing. She watched his chest rise and fall with each breath, and her thoughts wandered to the way his jawline was sharp and defined, his tousled hair still messy from sleep. His features, even in this state, had a raw intensity to them that she couldn’t deny.

For a moment, she found herself sitting on the floor near the couch, her gaze tracing his features. There was something undeniably attractive about him, even when he was at his lowest. She hated to admit it, but there was a quiet power in the way he looked—even drunk, even angry—and it made her heart skip a beat, though she couldn’t explain why. She caught herself staring, quickly looking away, a flush creeping up her neck. She wasn’t sure what it was about him that drew her in so strongly. But as she sat there, her legs crossed beneath her, the room still silent except for the sound of his faint breathing, she couldn’t help but think that there was so much more to him than the angry, distant man she saw most days.

 

o

 

Emily’s eyes fluttered open, her neck stiff from spending the night slumped against the edge of the couch. The first thing she noticed was the faint morning light filtering through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the living room. She blinked a few times, disoriented, before realizing she was still on the floor.

Her heart skipped a beat when her gaze shifted, and she saw James already awake, leaning slightly on one elbow, his piercing eyes locked directly onto hers. He looked tired—his hair was messier than usual, his face unshaven—but there was a sharpness in his expression that made her feel like he had been watching her for a while. The sudden intensity of his gaze made her cheeks burn, and she quickly looked away, brushing her hands over her face to wake herself up. How long has he been awake? she wondered, her mind racing as embarrassment flooded her.

“What’s your problem?” James’s voice broke the silence, rough and low, but not loud.

Emily’s head snapped up, her cheeks still flushed. "W-what?" she stammered, trying to keep her voice steady.

He sat up slowly, wincing slightly, rubbing a hand over his face. "Why are you sitting there like some kind of creep? Watching me all night?" His tone wasn’t accusatory, more confused, but it still carried his usual edge.

“I wasn’t—” Emily began defensively, then stopped herself. She hesitated, lowering her gaze to her lap. “You were... having a nightmare. I didn’t know what to do, so I just... stayed. In case.” Her voice grew quieter toward the end of the sentence.

James stared at her, his expression unreadable. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just let the words hang between them. Then, with a dry scoff, he leaned back against the couch.

"You’re weird," he muttered, almost like he was saying it to himself.

Emily’s face burned even more. She wanted to snap back, to defend herself, but something about his tone made her hold back. It wasn’t mean, not really—it sounded more tired than anything else. She stood up, brushing off her jeans and stretching out her stiff limbs. “Well, you’re welcome,” she mumbled under her breath, not sure if he heard her.

James’s eyes flicked back to her as she moved toward the kitchen. “For what?”

Emily turned around briefly, looking at him with a faint frown. “For being here,” she said simply, before starting to walk away.

Behind her, James ran a hand through his hair, watching her leave the room. What the hell is her deal? he thought, but a part of him couldn’t shake the image of her sitting there all night, watching over him like he actually mattered. "Hey," he called, his tone gruff but less sharp than usual. She turned to see him still slouched on the couch, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "Do you know how to make coffee?"

Her lips parted, a little taken aback by the question. "Uh, yeah, I think so," she replied hesitantly.

“Good. Make some,” he muttered, leaning his head back against the couch. Then, after a beat, he added, “And grab me something from the drawer under the sink. Should be some pills in there.”

Emily frowned slightly but nodded, heading to the kitchen. She wasn’t sure if she was more annoyed at his demanding tone or surprised that he was asking her for something so... normal. It was the first time he’d asked her for help, even if it was grudgingly. She found the drawer he’d mentioned and pulled it open, rummaging through its chaotic contents. Wrappers, loose batteries, pens, and—finally—an old pill bottle. But as she reached for it, her hand froze.

Tucked beneath the clutter, half-hidden, was a photograph.

She picked it up carefully, her fingers brushing against the worn edges of the picture. It was James—years younger, his posture rigid, dressed in a military uniform. His expression was serious, almost severe, but there was something striking about it. The confidence in his stance, the sharpness in his gaze—it was so different from the James she « knew » now, slouched on the couch with a headache and a permanent scowl. Emily’s heart tightened as she studied the photo. Is this who he used to be? she wondered. The man in the picture looked like someone with purpose, someone who knew where he belonged. She couldn’t reconcile it with the person she’d been living with for the past few days—a man who seemed lost, angry, and tired of everything, including her.

“What’s taking so long?” James’s irritated voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

She shoved the photo back into the drawer and grabbed the pill bottle, closing it quickly before he could notice. When she turned around, she saw him watching her, his brows furrowed in suspicion.

"Sorry," she muttered, walking over to hand him the bottle.

He snatched it from her hand, shaking out two pills into his palm before dry-swallowing them. "Coffee?" he prompted, his tone clipped.

Emily bit back a retort, turning back to the kitchen to start the coffee machine. But as she worked, her thoughts kept drifting back to the photo. She glanced over her shoulder at James, who was now rubbing his temples, his eyes closed as if blocking out the world. The man in the photo and the man in front of her felt like two completely different people. And for the first time since arriving here, Emily found herself wondering what had happened to him—what had changed him so much.

Emily finished making the coffee and brought a steaming mug over to James. He took it with a gruff nod, his eyes still clouded with exhaustion. She hesitated for a moment, standing awkwardly beside the couch, before slowly lowering herself to sit next to him. He didn’t react, just sipped the coffee in silence, his focus seemingly elsewhere.

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, noting the tension in his jaw and the way his fingers gripped the mug a little too tightly. Without thinking, she reached out, her hand hovering near his forehead.

“What are you doing?” James’s voice was sharp, and his free hand shot up, catching her wrist before she could touch him.

“I was just checking if you have a fever,” Emily said, her voice softer than she intended but firm enough to hold her ground.

James narrowed his eyes, his grip on her wrist tightening just slightly. “Don’t take advantage of me being half-dead,” he muttered. “I’m fine.”

Emily’s brows furrowed, a flicker of irritation crossing her face. She twisted her wrist out of his grasp with more force than she thought she had. “Stop being so difficult,” she shot back, her cheeks warming with a mix of embarrassment and frustration. Before he could respond, she pressed her palm gently against his forehead, her touch light but deliberate.

James stiffened, his lips parting slightly as if he were about to protest, but then he stopped. His eyes stayed on her, studying her face as she concentrated on her task, ignoring his gaze. Emily’s heart raced under his scrutiny, and she could feel the heat creeping up her neck. Why does he have to look at me like that? she thought, biting the inside of her cheek to keep herself focused.

“You’re warm,” she mumbled, withdrawing her hand quickly and placing it in her lap.

James leaned back against the couch, still watching her with a strange expression. “That’s what happens when you drink half a liquor store,” he said dryly, though his tone lacked its usual bite.

Emily didn’t respond, keeping her eyes on her hands. She could still feel the ghost of his gaze on her, and it was making her stomach twist in ways she didn’t understand. She crossed her arms over her knees, willing her face to cool down.

James smirked faintly, taking another sip of his coffee. “You’re blushing,” he pointed out, his tone somewhere between amused and mocking.

“I’m not,” Emily said quickly, her voice too high-pitched to be convincing.

“Sure,” he drawled, leaning his head back against the couch with a small, almost imperceptible chuckle.

Emily huffed, standing up abruptly. “Just... don’t fall asleep here again… I don’t have a room so at least let me keep the couch,” she muttered before walking toward the kitchen, her face burning.

As she left, James let out a long breath, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t understand why she bothered, why she cared. But for some reason, her touch—however brief—lingered.

Notes:

Hi everyone! Thank you so much for your continued support and patience. I hope you enjoy this chapter—it’s a bit quieter... As always, feel free to share your thoughts; they mean the world to me!

with love, girl with adhd.

Chapter 7: Quiet fractures

Summary:

Emily and James experience a quiet, tense morning, where subtle moments and exchanges reveal the growing tension in their complicated relationship.

Notes:

I really really liked writing that chapter! Nothing more to say ahah!

with love, girlwithadhd.

Emily shuffled through the kitchen, still flustered from her abrupt exit moments earlier. The weight of James’s gaze seemed to follow her, even when he wasn’t in the room. She busied herself by tidying the counter, wiping away crumbs that weren’t hers, before heading toward the bathroom.

The shower was her sanctuary. The sound of the water drowned out her thoughts, letting her breathe for a few stolen moments. As the steam filled the tiny space, she leaned her forehead against the cool tiles. “Why do you care, Emily?” she whispered to herself, echoing the question James’s silence had asked so many times. She didn’t have an answer—at least not one that made sense.

Maybe it was because she didn’t have anyone else. Maybe it was because he didn’t have anyone either, not really. Or maybe it was just easier to focus on his mess than her own.

The hot water ran over her shoulders, loosening the knots in her muscles from sleeping on the floor all night. She closed her eyes, replaying the look on his face when she’d touched his forehead. He hadn’t pulled away—not at first. It was the first time she’d seen something other than anger or annoyance in his expression.

It felt… strange. Vulnerable.

The slam of a door pulled her out of her thoughts. She quickly turned off the water, wrapping herself in a towel as she stepped out of the shower. Droplets of water clung to her skin as she cracked the bathroom door open, listening.

In the kitchen, James was rummaging through drawers, his movements sharp and impatient.

Emily padded out, still clutching the towel tightly. “What’s wrong?” she asked cautiously.

James didn’t look up, his voice dry. “You were in there forever.”

“It wasn’t that long,” she muttered, narrowing her eyes.

He finally turned, his gaze flicking over her briefly before smirking. “Trying to show off something?” he asked, his tone laced with sarcasm.

Emily flushed a deep crimson, tightening her grip on the towel. “What is wrong with you?” she snapped, glaring at him.

James shrugged, leaning against the counter. “Maybe don’t parade around the house in a towel next time.”

She scowled at him, her voice sharp. “Maybe don’t look.”

James raised an eyebrow, his tone flat. “Look at what? There’s nothing to see.”

Emily’s jaw dropped slightly, her cheeks burning brighter. “You’re unbelievable, I’m going to your room,” she muttered, storming past him toward his room.

As she disappeared, James let out a small chuckle, shaking his head.

Emily was standing in front of the mirror, still fuming from the earlier exchange, when James’s voice carried down the hall.

“Get dressed. We’re going out.”

She frowns, confused. “What?”

“I said, get dressed. We’re going to the store,” he called back, his tone impatient.

Emily frowned, muttering to herself, What’s his deal today? But she didn’t argue. She pulled on a pair of simple denim shorts and an oversized T-shirt, glancing at herself in the mirror. She tied her damp hair into a loose ponytail, not wanting to put in any more effort than necessary.

When Emily stepped out the door, James’s eyes immediately scanned her outfit. He stared at her for a moment, his gaze sweeping slowly from her feet up to her face, pausing for a second longer than necessary at her thighs. The air between them grew thick with the unspoken tension as he finally broke the silence.

“You could’ve just skipped the shorts,” he muttered, his voice dripping with annoyance. “It would’ve been the same.”

Emily froze. Her eyes narrowed, and her stomach twisted with a mix of frustration and embarrassment. Seriously? she thought, her face heating up.

“Right,” she bit back, trying to keep her voice steady. “Thanks for the fashion advice, James.”

James didn’t respond, simply turning toward the truck and sliding into the driver’s seat, his hands gripping the wheel. Emily didn’t follow him immediately, standing there for a second, trying to calm the sharp sting of his words.

She finally got into the truck, slamming the door a little harder than she meant to. James didn’t seem to notice—or maybe he didn’t care.

 

o

 

The minutes passed in silence, broken only by the sounds of the TV and the soft scraping of Emily’s spoon against the ice cream tub. James barely registered the flickering images on his phone anymore; his mind was elsewhere, still wrestling with the discomfort he couldn’t shake. Emily, oblivious to the storm brewing next to her, finished her ice cream and set the empty tub on the table. She stretched her arms overhead, yawning.

“Are you always this tense?” she asked casually, not really expecting an answer but curious nonetheless.

James looked up, his gaze cold. “No,” he muttered, irritated by her question, “just when people make me uncomfortable.”

She blinked, taken aback, but didn’t argue. Instead, she turned her attention back to the TV, not wanting to press further. James couldn’t shake the feeling that every interaction with Emily was getting under his skin in ways he hadn’t anticipated.

“You’re weird,” Emily said suddenly, not looking at him.

James smirked, despite himself. “You’re one to talk.”

She laughed softly, but there was no malice in her tone. It felt… oddly peaceful.

“How much longer are you going to stay like this?” she asked, her voice quieter now.

James stiffened at the question. “Like what?”

“Cold. Detached. You could try, you know?”

He didn’t answer, he didn’t bother.

Emily let out a long, drawn-out sigh, still staring at the TV. She wasn’t sure why she was even saying this, but the words slipped out before she could stop them.

“You know… I actually appreciated today,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

James, who had been absentmindedly scrolling through his phone, didn’t respond immediately. He tilted his head, his expression unreadable, before his eyes flicked over to her.

“What?” he asked, tone flat, not sure he’d heard her right.

Emily didn’t look at him, her gaze fixed ahead on the screen. “I mean, you were different today. Calmer. I guess it’s because you’re hungover and probably too tired to be your usual self… but still, I appreciated it.”

James blinked, a mix of confusion and irritation crossing his face. He wasn’t sure whether to take it as a compliment or not. He hated that she noticed any difference, that she was able to see through the walls he’d carefully built.

“I’m not your friend,” he said quickly, his voice sharper than intended. “So don’t get any ideas.”

Emily shrugged, her voice still soft. “I’m not trying to be your friend. I just said I appreciated today. You weren’t… so bad.”

“Don’t expect it again,” James muttered, his voice dismissive. He stared at the screen, trying to ignore the annoyance he felt towards her.

Emily hesitated, then cleared her throat. “Can we watch a movie together?” she asked, almost sheepishly. “I mean… I’m taking advantage of your hangover and your good mood.”

James shot her a glance, a raised eyebrow betraying his disbelief at her audacity. Her face flushed bright red under his gaze, and she looked down, avoiding his eyes.

For a brief moment, James stayed silent, just staring at her. He didn’t know why, but there was something about her that made him feel uneasy—like she was peeling back layers he didn’t want anyone to see. Slowly, he leaned forward, his body tilting towards her as if trying to size her up.

“What’s the catch?” he asked, his voice low and skeptical.

Emily shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. “No catch, just… thought it might be nice. I’m not used to people being… well, not horrible.”

James scoffed, about to brush her off, but something made him pause. He leaned in a little closer, his gaze fixed on her flushed cheeks, his proximity closing the space between them. She was fidgeting in her seat now, clearly uncomfortable.

Before he could respond, there was a loud knock at the door.

“Who the hell is that?” he muttered, irritation creeping into his tone. Without waiting for a response, he stood up and walked towards the door.

Chapter 8: The Visit

Summary:

James is visited by a social worker about Emily's living situation. Tension rises as Emily fears being taken away, while James reluctantly defends her.

James reached the door, his hand on the doorknob, when he shot a quick glance back at Emily, who was still sitting on the couch, her eyes focused on the space between her hands. The knock came again, louder this time, impatient.

He yanked the door open, ready to snap at whoever was on the other side, but froze when he saw who it was.

A man in his mid-forties stood in front of him, wearing a suit that was a little too expensive for someone standing on a worn-out porch. His posture was rigid, his face sharp—someone who definitely didn’t belong here, but somehow did.

“James Hendricks?” the man asked, his voice smooth and authoritative.

“Yeah. Who the hell are you?” James grunted, stepping back from the door, his irritation palpable.

The man smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Social services. We need to have a word.”

James stiffened, suddenly aware of Emily’s presence behind him. He glanced over his shoulder, catching her watching the exchange with wide, cautious eyes.

“Now?” he asked, his voice laced with annoyance. “I don’t have time for this.”

The man ignored his tone. “It’s about the child in your care.”

James gritted his teeth, the reality of the situation crashing down on him. The last thing he needed was a visit from the authorities.

“I’m not discussing anything right now. You can come back later.” James tried to close the door, but the man put a hand out, stopping him.

“This can’t wait,” the man insisted, stepping inside without being invited.

Emily, who had been standing awkwardly behind James, now stepped forward. Her voice was small but firm. “What do you want with him?” she asked, her eyes flitting between the man and James.

The man glanced at her briefly before focusing back on James. “We’re just following up on reports. We have questions.”

James shot Emily a glance, then quickly turned back to the man. “Fine,” he muttered, stepping aside to let the man enter. “But make it quick.”

The man stepped inside, his eyes scanning the small, cluttered living room as he set down his briefcase by the door. He took a seat across from James, who remained standing, tense. Emily hesitated for a moment before the man addressed her directly.

“So, Emily,” he started, his voice softer now, trying to appear more approachable. “How are you feeling living with James?”

Emily’s heart skipped a beat at the question, her body stiffening. She’d expected it, but hearing the words made it real. The possibility that she might be taken away from James hit her in the gut like a physical blow. She glanced at James, who was standing with his arms crossed, his expression unreadable.

Without thinking, she instinctively took a step toward him, a small act of seeking comfort, reassurance. It was just the two of them, even with the man sitting in front of them. The idea of being removed, of going somewhere else, suddenly felt too overwhelming.

James caught her movement from the corner of his eye. His gaze flickered for a second, and he took a step closer to her, but it wasn’t necessarily a sign of comfort. He wasn’t sure why he did it, but it felt like an automatic reaction, as if his body was reacting to her being so close, so vulnerable. He cleared his throat and focused on the man again.

Emily’s voice was quiet, almost hesitant, but she pushed through the fear. “I… I’m okay, I guess. It’s… not perfect, but it’s fine,” she replied, her eyes still on James. The distance between them felt safe but fragile.

The man raised an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied with the answer. “Are you sure? Is there anything you feel uncomfortable with? Anything you think we should know?”

Emily swallowed hard. She didn’t know how to answer. If she said something, would it be the wrong thing? Would they take her away from here? She glanced at James, whose jaw was clenched, but he didn’t say anything. She had to speak, but she didn’t want to lie either.

James could feel the tension in the room growing, the pressure of Emily’s silence hanging heavy between them. He didn’t want to get involved in this, didn’t want to explain himself or defend her. But there was something in the way she looked at him, like she was silently asking for his help, though she didn’t say it aloud.

He finally spoke, his tone sharp, yet trying to mask his own frustration. “She’s fine,” he said, his voice firm but not unkind. “So, what’s the point of this?”

The man didn’t seem convinced. “We just need to ensure that things are… working out. It’s part of our procedure.”

Emily shifted slightly, her nerves on edge. She felt exposed, but the simple act of standing near James, of having him closer, seemed to settle the uncertainty in her chest, even if only for a moment.

James fixed his gaze on the man, his voice sharp as he crossed his arms. “What do you want her to say, exactly? If she says she feels uncomfortable, are you going to take her away?”

The question hung in the air, thick with tension. Emily’s heart skipped a beat. She could feel the weight of his words pressing down on her, and a sense of dread flooded her chest. The idea of being taken away from here, from the only semblance of stability she had, was suffocating. Her breath hitched in her throat, but she didn’t say anything.

James glanced at her, his eyes narrowing slightly as he saw the expression flicker across her face, the silent fear she was trying to hide.

“Look,” James continued, his voice still laced with irritation, “if she wants to stay, she can stay. I’ve already tried to get rid of her, but apparently, it’s not that simple. So, here she is.”

Emily felt her chest tighten at his words, her stomach twisting painfully. Tried to get rid of her? Her mind repeated the phrase, and the hurt seeped through her, despite the fact that she knew he had said it out of frustration. She wished she could say something, but the words felt stuck in her throat. It was like he was telling the man that she didn’t matter, that he didn’t want her there. The man, still observing both of them, let out a quiet sigh, sensing the discomfort in the room. He turned to Emily, his expression softer than before. “You don’t have to feel pressured to stay if you don’t want to, Emily. We can make other arrangements if needed.”

Emily shook her head quickly, her heart pounding. “I… I want to stay,” she murmured, though her voice wavered slightly. She wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to say. She just couldn’t bear the thought of being sent away somewhere else, somewhere she might not even want to be.

She glanced at James, her face turning pink as she caught his eyes. He wasn’t looking at her with anger this time, but something else — something unreadable.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she muttered, feeling her cheeks heat up more.

James raised an eyebrow, clearly confused by her reaction, but he didn’t press it. Instead, he turned his attention back to the man. “So, you hear that? She wants to stay. You can go ahead and check your little checklist, she’s staying here.”

The man nodded slowly, taking in the situation. “Alright. We’ll keep in touch,” he said, standing up to leave. “But just remember, Emily, if anything changes or if you need help, don’t hesitate to reach out to us.”

James didn’t respond, only watching the man as he left. When the door clicked shut, Emily let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

James turned back to her, his tone almost casual. “See? You can stay. Happy now?”

She nodded, though the sadness still lingered in her eyes. Happy...? She swallowed hard, her hands gripping the hem of her oversized shirt as she hesitated. Her voice was barely above a whisper. “Would you have preferred if I left?” She paused for a second before shaking her head quickly. “Actually, no… Don’t answer that.”

James, leaning against the edge of the couch, tilted his head to look at her. His gaze lingered on her, and for a moment, he looked like he was about to say something dismissive. Instead, he let out a long sigh and ran a hand over his face.

“After all this time trying to get rid of you,” he said flatly, his voice low, “I finally had the chance to do it… and I let him walk out the door.”

Emily’s breath caught in her throat. She wasn’t sure how to respond. She knew James didn’t want her here—he’d made that painfully clear more times than she could count—but hearing him admit it so plainly still stung. She stared down at her hands, her heart thudding in her chest as the words echoed in her mind.

“I’m not sure why I did,” he added after a pause, his tone distant, as if he were talking more to himself than to her. “Maybe I’m losing my fucking mind.”

Emily finally lifted her eyes to look at him. She searched his face, but his expression was unreadable—neutral, detached, and yet there was a flicker of something she couldn’t place.

“Thanks for… not letting me go,” she murmured, barely audible. It was all she could manage without her voice cracking.

James gave her a look but didn’t respond. Instead, he pushed himself off the couch and headed toward the kitchen without another word, leaving Emily alone to stew in her thoughts.

Notes:

Thank you so much for taking the time to read this chapter. Your support and engagement mean the world to me. I'm kind off falling in love with this story I'm not gonna lie eheh!
Stay tuned for what’s to come!

with love, girlwithadhd.

Chapter 9: Unspoken Tensions

Summary:

James notices Emily's odd behavior as she fluctuates between being distant and overly attached. And it's annoying the hell out of him.

Notes:

Thank you so much for following along with James and Emily’s journey !!

with love, girlwithadhd.

Over the weeks, James began to notice a pattern with Emily. On school days, she was like a ghost—quiet, withdrawn, almost invisible. She would barely speak unless spoken to, and when she returned home, she’d slip into his room while he was lounging on the couch or she'd sit silently on the couch, staring blankly at the TV. But Wednesdays and weekends were a different story.

On those days, she wouldn’t leave him alone. Whether it was hovering nearby while he made coffee, sitting uncomfortably close on the couch, or even pretending to need help with things she clearly already knew how to do, Emily seemed determined to be in his orbit. It was annoying.

James didn’t understand it. Didn’t she have hobbies? Friends? A life outside of trailing him around the house like a lost puppy?

He let out an exasperated sigh one Saturday morning as he watched her linger by the kitchen doorway while he stood at the counter, pouring himself a mug of coffee. She wasn’t saying anything—just standing there, arms crossed and looking at him like she was waiting for something.

“What?” he barked, not bothering to mask his irritation.

Emily shrugged. “Nothing.”

“Then stop staring at me like that,” he snapped, taking a sip of his coffee.

Emily didn’t move. Instead, she tilted her head slightly. “You’re grumpier than usual today. Didn’t sleep well?”

James narrowed his eyes at her. “You know what? Maybe if you actually gave me some space once in a while, I might.”

Emily’s lips twitched, as if she was holding back a smile. “You didn’t complain about space when I stayed by your side after you got drunk.”

James groaned, setting his mug down on the counter with a sharp clink. “You’re really gonna bring that up again?”

She shrugged again, her expression neutral but her eyes glinting with something mischievous.

He stared at her for a moment before shaking his head. “Unbelievable.”

Emily didn’t respond, but the small smirk that flickered across her face told him she wasn’t about to drop it anytime soon.

He sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t you have friends to bother or something? Go outside. Touch grass.”

Emily frowned this time, and he glared at her.

“I don’t need friends,” she mumbled, suddenly looking down at her feet.

James blinked, surprised by the change in her tone. “What do you mean, you don’t need friends? You’re fifteen. Isn’t that, like, your entire personality at this age?”

She glanced back up at him, her expression unreadable. “I just don’t, okay?”

He wanted to push further, to ask her what the hell that meant, but the annoyance he felt towards her stopped him.

“Whatever,” he muttered, grabbing his coffee and walking past her. “Just don’t follow me around all day. Find something to do.”

As he left the kitchen, he heard her sigh behind him. And yet, by the time he settled on the couch with his laptop, there she was again—quietly sitting on the opposite end of the couch, pretending to scroll through her phone.

James resisted the urge to groan.

She was impossible.

James pinched the bridge of his nose, setting his laptop aside as Emily continued to linger on the couch. She was oddly quiet, her legs tucked beneath her, scrolling on her phone like she wasn’t even in the same room. But he could feel her presence, like an itch he couldn’t scratch.

After a long moment, he sighed sharply and turned toward her. “Do you have a problem at school or something?”

Emily glanced up, confused. “What?”

“You heard me,” he said, crossing his arms. “You’re too weird. Always sulking on school days like you’re carrying the weight of the world. What’s the deal?”

Her brow furrowed as she set her phone down. “I’m not weird.”

“Yeah, you are,” he shot back. “You come home looking like someone died, but on weekends, you’re glued to me like some kind of barnacle. It’s annoying.”

Emily’s face turned red—not from embarrassment, but from frustration. She sat up straighter, glaring at him. “Maybe because school sucks, James. Ever thought of that? Or is it too much for you to comprehend?”

James raised an eyebrow, ignoring the jab. “Okay, fine. School sucks. That’s the whole explanation?”

Emily pressed her lips together and looked away.

He tilted his head, studying her. “You’re hiding something.”

“I’m not hiding anything,” she mumbled, but her defensive tone betrayed her.

“Right,” James said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Because you’re the picture of open communication.”

Emily clenched her fists in her lap, her shoulders stiff. “Just drop it, okay?”

James sighed, leaning back against the couch. “Fine. Whatever. Keep your secrets. See If I care.”

She shot him an irritated glare before grabbing her phone again, her fingers tapping aggressively against the screen.

James watched her out of the corner of his eye. She was stubborn, he’d give her that.

 

o

 

James was too absorbed in his phone, the faint glow of the screen lighting up his face as he scrolled through the dating site. A smirk curled on his lips when he saw a match. He leaned back into the couch, already preparing a response. Emily, on the other hand, sat quietly across from him, her eyes flickering toward his phone as he continued typing.

A strange tension filled the room as Emily’s gaze lingered on the screen, her jaw tightening. Her heart thudded in her chest as she tried to focus on something else—anything else—but the image of James grinning at his phone made her stomach twist.

She quickly looked away, trying to ignore the uncomfortable heat spreading across her cheeks. Her grip on her phone tightened, her fingers almost trembling. She felt like a fool for letting herself get bothered by something so stupid. But seeing him so engrossed in chatting with someone else felt like a slap in the face.

James noticed the shift in her demeanor, the way her shoulders tensed and her eyes darted away, but he didn’t say anything. He had no intention of addressing it. It wasn’t his problem. Besides, she was being irritating today—too quiet, too fidgety, too… off.

After a long moment, Emily set her phone down on the coffee table with a little more force than necessary.

“Hey, James,” she said, her voice almost too soft for him to hear.

He looked up, raising an eyebrow, his fingers still moving absentmindedly on his screen. “What?”

“Can we watch a movie together?” she asked, her tone slightly hesitant but determined.

James blinked, not entirely sure what she was getting at. She hadn’t shown much interest in spending time with him lately, so this was a strange request. “Really? You wanna watch a movie with me?”

She nodded, biting her lip. “Yeah, just… I don’t know. I thought it might be nice.”

“Fine. Whatever. Grab the remote,” he muttered, tapping his phone screen.

Emily smiled faintly and moved toward the TV, her heart still pounding but for an entirely different reason now. Maybe it was a stupid request. Maybe he didn’t care, and maybe this wasn’t going to make a difference at all. But for some reason, it felt important for her.

Chapter 10: Shifting Silences

Summary:

As Emily and James share an unusually close moment, the tension between them grows heavier. Boundaries blur as unspoken emotions surface, leaving both of them questioning their connection and the meaning behind their actions.

Notes:

Interesting chapter is the least I could say.

with love, girlwithadhd.

Emily hesitated for a moment, but then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, she shifted closer to him on the couch. Her heart was pounding in her chest, her mind racing. She wasn’t entirely sure why she felt this sudden need to be near him, but she couldn’t deny it. The quiet space between them felt uncomfortable, and the urge to fill it with something, even if it was just their proximity, was overwhelming. James didn’t look up from his phone at first, his thumb scrolling through whatever was on the screen. But then, his eyes flicked over to her as she inched closer, and his brow furrowed slightly.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice flat, almost bored.

Emily froze, her cheeks turning bright red as she instinctively looked away. She hadn’t expected him to notice so soon. She shifted uncomfortably, suddenly aware of how silly it all seemed.

“Nothing,” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

James smirked, the corner of his lips curling upward slightly. “You’re getting clingy again,” he said, the words laced with sarcasm.

Emily’s stomach twisted, but she simply nodded in response, avoiding his gaze. “Yeah… I guess I am,” she said quietly.

James sighed and leaned back into the couch, his phone still in his hands but now paying less attention to it. He didn’t say anything else, but Emily could feel his eyes on her. His judgment wasn’t harsh this time, though; it was something else, something she couldn’t quite place.

Without thinking, she leaned a little closer, the space between them shrinking even more. She didn’t care if it made him uncomfortable. In fact, a part of her enjoyed it. For a fleeting moment, she allowed herself to forget the tension, the awkwardness, the strange dynamic between them. Maybe, just maybe, being close to him wasn’t such a terrible thing. She stayed close to James, her body nearly pressed against his, and for a moment, there was an eerie silence between them. James didn’t move, didn’t seem to care about the proximity. His focus remained on the TV, but Emily couldn’t help the heat rising in her cheeks.

“Please… don’t hate me tonight,” she muttered softly, her voice barely audible.

James didn’t respond. He didn’t need to. His silence felt like a response enough. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting from him, but his lack of reaction left her feeling exposed, vulnerable.

She couldn’t stop herself from staring at him. His features were sharp in the dim light, his jaw slightly clenched, his eyes focused on the screen. But after a moment, she realized he was looking back at her. Their gazes locked, and for a second, everything around them seemed to fade away.

Emily’s breath hitched as her eyes flicked to his lips, instinctively drawn to them. She didn’t move at first, frozen, her thoughts racing. Was she really considering this? Before she could even think it through, her heart pounding in her chest, she turned her head away sharply. Her mind screamed at her to pull back.

James raised an eyebrow and frowned slightly. He watched her, his gaze shifting from her face to her lips, and then back to her eyes.

In his mind, a thought ran through: What the hell is she doing?

His frown deepened as he tried to make sense of it, but whatever it was, it didn’t sit right with him. He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to push her away or pull her closer. This strange tension between them, it felt both familiar and foreign. But for now, he stayed silent, his mind swirling with confusion.

Emily bit her lip, her mind racing as she tried to make sense of the emotions swirling inside her. She wasn’t sure what was happening, but a strange, unfamiliar feeling tugged at her chest. Was it possible? Could she be starting to feel something for James?

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, his presence next to her both comforting and unsettling. The tension between them was undeniable, but what did it mean? Her thoughts swirled, trying to understand the connection, or lack thereof, that had existed between them for so long. She didn’t know if it was the isolation, the long hours together, or something else entirely.

But in that moment, with him so close, she couldn’t deny the pull. It was something deeper, something that confused her, but at the same time, she felt a warmth inside her that made her wonder: Is this what it feels like?

She quickly pushed the thought aside, almost afraid to admit it to herself. She had always been closed off, protective of her feelings. Yet here she was, considering a possibility she hadn’t allowed herself to before. No, she thought, this is just a phase. It’ll pass.

James sat up abruptly, breaking the tension that had settled between them. He didn’t say a word as he stood up and made his way to the kitchen. Emily watched him quietly, the silence heavy in the room. She could hear the clink of glass as he poured himself something strong, the sound echoing in the quiet apartment.

A moment later, he returned to the couch, his glass in hand. He didn’t look at her as he settled back into his spot, taking a long sip from his drink. The action was familiar—something he did when he wanted to shut everything else out. He didn’t seem to care that she was sitting right next to him, or that she might have noticed.

Emily could feel the space between them growing again, an invisible wall that pushed her back. She couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she stared at the TV, the warmth of their earlier closeness slipping away, replaced by the cold distance that always seemed to follow James when he drank.

She wanted to say something, to ask him why he always did this, but she knew better than to push him. He wasn’t the type to open up, especially not now. So, she stayed silent, her thoughts swirling, her heart still heavy with the confusion she hadn’t quite figured out yet.

 

o

 

An hour later, James was slumped further into the couch, his glass empty but his expression increasingly blurred. His eyes were distant, unfocused, as the alcohol took hold of him. Emily watched him quietly, her own thoughts swirling as she fought the urge to say something. Finally, she broke the silence.

“Are you drunk enough to forget what might happen tonight?” she asked, her voice soft but laced with something she couldn’t quite place.

James didn’t look at her at first. He stared at the empty glass in his hand, almost as if the question didn’t register. But then, his eyes flicked to her, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

“Why?” he slurred, “You planning something?”

The question hung between them, heavy and unspoken, as Emily hesitated, her heart pounding in her chest. Would he remember? Would he care?

Emily leaned in slightly, her gaze unwavering as she repeated, “Yes or no?” Her voice was steady, though her hands betrayed her, fidgeting nervously in her lap.

James blinked, clearly a bit taken aback by her directness. He seemed to struggle to focus on her, the alcohol clouding his thoughts. For a moment, he just stared at her, his expression unreadable.

“Does it matter?” he muttered, his voice a bit too low, as if he was trying to avoid the question. He took a slow sip from his glass, but his eyes never left her face.

Emily’s words lingered in the air, the weight of them unspoken yet understood. “No… you’re right,” she said softly, her voice barely a whisper, before she leaned in and gently pressed a kiss to his lips.

For a moment, James remained still, his eyes locked onto hers, as if trying to make sense of what just happened. But then, without a word, without hesitation, he pulled her closer and kissed her back, his lips urgent and intense, as if he had been holding back for far too long.

The world seemed to fade around them as the kiss deepened, the tension between them finally unraveling in that heated moment.

Notes:

Hello everyone, first of all I’d like to apologize for not posting sooner. I had a lot of things going on and I couldn’t find some time to write and post the new chapter. So again, sorry.

But, I’m back (I hope), and I’ll get back to writing again soon because I missed my story <3.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter, until next time: Take care !

Chapter 11: Lines Blurred

Summary:

A moment of vulnerability leads James and Emily to cross an unexpected line, forcing them both to confront emotions they’ve been avoiding. As James reacts with panic and guilt, Emily is left questioning her own feelings and the consequences of their actions. Tension rises as the weight of what just happened threatens to reshape their fragile dynamic.

With a groan, he pushed her back onto the couch and climbed over her, his hands roaming over her body in a way that sent shivers down her spine. His kisses grew more insistent, more possessive, and for a moment, Emily felt a thrill she hadn’t known existed. His hands traced the curve of her waist, the softness of her stomach, and the swell of her breasts, leaving a trail of warmth and anticipation in their wake. The weight of his body on hers was surprisingly comforting, the scent of him intoxicating. Her hands found the hem of his shirt, eager to feel the firmness of his muscles and the heat of his skin.

With a gentle tug, Emily lifted his shirt, exposing his chiseled abs and broad chest. Her eyes roved over the landscape of his body, her heart racing as she took in the sight of him. His eyes, dark and intense, searched hers for a moment before he leaned down, his lips grazing the sensitive skin of her neck. A soft sigh escaped her as he found her collarbone and kissed it, sending a cascade of goosebumps across her skin.

Then, his mouth moved to her chest, and with a gentle touch, he cupped her small breasts, his thumbs brushing against the tightened peaks of her nipples. He took one into his mouth, sucking gently, and Emily’s back arched involuntarily, a moan escaping her lips. The sensation was exquisite, a mix of pleasure and pain that made her toes curl. His tongue played with the delicate flesh, flicking and circling, while his other hand continued to explore her body.

But then reality crashed down upon James like a ton of bricks. His eyes snapped open, and he abruptly pulled away, his breathing ragged and his cheeks flushed with a mix of passion and panic. The gravity of the situation hit him like a sledgehammer, sobering him up instantly. He stumbled backward. “I’m—I’m going to hell for that—fuck-"

Emily’s eyes widened, her heart racing as she looked up at him, her own feelings a tangled mess of fear and excitement. She had wanted this, hadn’t she? 

"Go to bed. Fuck I’m fucked up. Just go sleep.”

With that, he turned and stumbled out of the room, leaving Emily lying there, her body still tingling from his touch, her mind racing with a tumult of emotions.

Emily remained frozen on the couch, her breath shallow, as she tried to process what had just happened. Her lips still tingled from the kiss, her breast still feeling the wet of his saliva, a fire sparking deep inside her that she wasn’t sure how to extinguish. She had wanted it, hadn’t she? But now, with the weight of James’s words hanging in the air, uncertainty flooded her. The rawness of the moment felt so surreal, and yet, so real.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she glanced at the door where James had disappeared. She didn’t know whether to be angry, confused, or… relieved. His rejection stung, but his kiss had felt like everything she’d been silently craving. She curled up, hugging her knees to her chest, trying to suppress the whirlwind of thoughts that seemed to drown her.

She’d always known he was broken, but she hadn’t realized just how much it would affect her. And now, she wasn’t sure if she had just made everything worse.

The door slammed shut down the hall, and Emily winced at the sound, as though it had shattered the fragile moment they’d shared. She bit her lip and closed her eyes, wishing she could simply forget everything for a while.

 

o

 

The next morning, Emily woke up to the sound of dishes clattering in the kitchen. Her heart sank as she remembered the night before, the kiss, the way James had stormed off, his words replaying in her mind like a broken record. She pulled the blanket tighter around herself, hesitant to face him. But she knew she couldn’t avoid him forever.

She slowly made her way to the kitchen, her bare feet padding against the cold floor. James stood at the counter, his back to her, pouring coffee into a mug. His movements were stiff, deliberate, and his usual gruff demeanor seemed heavier than usual.

“Morning,” Emily mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper.

James didn’t turn around. “There’s coffee. Or milk. Help yourself,” he muttered, his tone clipped.

Emily hesitated, unsure if she should say anything about the night before. She poured herself a small cup, the silence between them growing unbearable. Finally, she set the mug down and cleared her throat.

“About last night…”

James turned sharply, his eyes narrowing as they locked onto hers. “Don’t,” he said firmly, his voice low but commanding. “We’re not talking about it. Ever.”

Emily flinched at the harshness of his tone but forced herself to stand her ground. “I wasn’t going to—”

“Good,” he cut her off, turning back to his coffee. “Because it didn’t happen.”

Her stomach churned at his words, but she refused to let him see how much they hurt. “Fine,” she said quietly, gripping her mug tightly.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The air between them was thick with unspoken tension, and Emily could feel it suffocating her. She wanted to say something, anything, to break the silence, but James’s rigid stance warned her to leave it alone.

As she turned to leave, his voice stopped her.

“Don’t do anything stupid today.”

She turned back to look at him, her brows furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean…?”

James finally met her eyes, his expression unreadable. “It means I have enough shit to deal with without worrying about you.”

Her throat tightened, and she nodded curtly. “Noted.”

Without another word, she left the kitchen, her chest tight with frustration and something she couldn’t quite name.

 

o

 

The rest of the day passed in strained silence. James stayed in the living room, scrolling through his phone or pretending to watch TV, while Emily holed herself up in his room. She tried to distract herself with homework, but her thoughts kept drifting back to the kitchen, to his cold words, to the way his lips and tongue had felt on her body the night before.

By the time evening rolled around, Emily couldn’t stand the tension anymore. She wandered out of his room and found James still in the living room, slouched on the couch with a beer in hand.

She hesitated in the doorway, unsure if she should speak. Finally, she crossed her arms and stepped closer. “Are you just going to ignore me forever…? Did I ruined everything…?”

James glanced at her, his eyes bloodshot and tired. “I’m not ignoring you,” he said flatly. “Don’t start.”

Emily frowned, her frustration bubbling to the surface. “You’ve been ignoring me all day...”

He groaned and leaned his head back against the couch. “Just drop it.”

She didn’t move, her arms still crossed. “Why do you always push me away? Last night—”

“Don’t,” James snapped, his voice sharp as a blade. “I already said we’re not talking about it. Nothing happened, and that’s the end of it.”

Emily felt her chest tighten. “You can’t just pretend it didn’t happen.”

“Watch me,” he shot back, taking a swig of his beer.

For a moment, they stared at each other, the tension between them nearly palpable. Emily’s lips trembled, but she refused to cry in front of him. Instead, she took a step back, her voice quieter now.

“I just… I don’t understand why you hate me so much.”

James froze, his grip on the beer tightening. “I don’t hate you,” he said after a long pause, his voice low.

“Then why do you act like I’m some kind of burden?”

His jaw clenched, and he set the beer down on the table with a loud clink. “Because you are a burden, Emily,” he said harshly. “You shouldn’t even be here. You shouldn’t be my problem. But now you are, and I’m just trying to figure out how to deal with it without losing my damn mind. And I am losing my damn mind.”

Her stomach dropped, and she felt tears prick at her eyes. “If that’s how you really feel, then why didn’t you let them take me yesterday?”

James looked away, his expression conflicted. For a moment, it seemed like he might answer, but instead, he shook his head and muttered, “Just go to my room, Emily. Please.”

She hesitated, waiting for him to say something more, but he didn’t. With a shaky breath, she turned and walked away, her vision blurred with unshed tears.

Once she was out of sight, James ran a hand through his hair, his chest tight with guilt. He didn’t know why he’d let her stay, why he kept pushing her away yet couldn’t bear the thought of her leaving. All he knew was that he was in way over his head, and there was no going back now.

 

o

 

That night, James couldn’t sleep. He stared up at the ceiling of his bedroom, the dim glow of a streetlamp outside casting faint patterns on the walls. His mind replayed the events of the past few weeks like a broken record: Emily’s arrival, her hesitant attempts to connect with him, the way her presence disrupted every carefully constructed barrier he’d built around himself.

And then, there was last night.

He groaned, rolling onto his side and burying his face in the pillow. What the hell was wrong with him? He was supposed to be the adult here, the one with control. But instead, he’d let a moment of weakness—a moment of fucking insanity—upend everything.

The worst part? He couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Her touch, her lips, the way she’d looked at him, her fucking breasts… Those nipples. Damn. It was all burned into his memory, and no amount of guilt or alcohol could erase it.

He sat up abruptly, running a hand through his hair. He needed air.

Emily lay awake too, staring at the ceiling of the living room. Her chest still felt tight from their earlier argument, and her mind kept circling back to the same question: why had he let her stay?

She wasn’t naive—she knew James wasn’t the type to take someone in out of the goodness of his heart. He didn’t see her as family; he’d made that painfully clear. So why had he fought for her to stay yesterday?

Her thoughts drifted to the moment on the couch, the way his lips had moved against hers, the heat of his body so close to hers. Her cheeks flushed, and she shook her head. No. She couldn’t let herself think like that.

James was broken—angry, closed off, impossible to reach. And yet…

She sighed, rolling onto her side and pulling the blanket tighter around herself.

 

o

 

An hour later, the front door creaked open, and James stepped outside. The cool night air hit him like a slap to the face, but he welcomed it. He lit a cigarette and leaned against the railing of the porch, taking a long drag.

The street was quiet, the only sound the faint rustling of leaves in the breeze. For the first time in days, his mind felt almost still.

But then the door opened behind him, and Emily stepped out.

She was wearing a large hoodie, her bare legs pale in the moonlight. She hesitated when she saw him, her arms crossed over her chest as if to shield herself from the cold—or maybe from him.

“What are you doing up?” James asked, his voice rough.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she admitted, stepping closer. “What about you…?”

“Same.”

For a moment, they stood in silence, the tension between them heavy but unspoken.

Emily glanced at the cigarette in his hand. “I didn’t know you smoked…”

“Yeah, well, there’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he said, taking another drag.

She shifted on her feet. “Maybe if you’d let me, I could...”

James exhaled slowly, the smoke curling in the air. “You don’t want to know me, Emily. Trust me on that.”

She frowned, her gaze unwavering. “I think I do.”

He looked at her then, really looked at her. Her wide eyes, the way her lips pressed together in determination, the vulnerability she couldn’t quite hide.

“Go to bed,” he said quietly, his voice softer than before.

She hesitated, her feet rooted to the spot. But eventually, she nodded and turned to go back inside.

As the door clicked shut behind her, James let out a long breath and stubbed out the cigarette. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep this up.

Notes:

Hi everyone,

I know I’ve been a bit absent lately, and I just wanted to say thank you for your patience. Life’s been a bit chaotic with some personal changes, but I’m slowly finding my rhythm again. Your support and love for this story mean the world to me, and I can’t thank you enough for sticking around.

I hope you enjoy this chapter—it’s one I’ve been excited (and a little nervous) to share. Let me know your thoughts, as always!

Thank you for reading 💕

with love, girlwithadhd.

Chapter 12: A Shift in the Air

Summary:

Emily takes a different approach in her interactions with James, trying to navigate their complicated relationship with subtlety. Meanwhile, James notices something new about her. Tensions rise as they face the realities of their situation, both trying to manage their feelings and the complexities between them.

Notes:

I’m sooo sorry!! It was the holidays, then Christmas, and then New Year’s, and I couldn’t write at all! Anyway, I have this mini chapter followed by chapter 13, which I thankfully finished this morning!!

Sorry again!

James lounged on the couch, scrolling aimlessly through his phone, his legs stretched out as the TV played some unimportant program in the background. It had been a quiet few days, unsettlingly quiet. Emily, for the most part, had kept to herself, staying in his room or heading out without much explanation. He wasn’t used to it.

Not that he minded, of course. She wasn’t clinging to him anymore, wasn’t asking for his attention, wasn’t… there. And yet, for some goddamned reason, her absence felt like a pebble in his shoe—small, but irritating enough to notice.

As if on cue, Emily walked into the room, her phone in hand. She didn’t look at him as she passed, her steps light, her face serene. She looked… different. James narrowed his eyes, his gaze drifting over her. She was wearing jeans—ones that fit her a little too well—and a cropped sweater that exposed a sliver of skin at her waist.

“What the hell are you wearing?” he muttered, not even looking up from his phone.

Emily stopped in her tracks, glancing down at herself as if she hadn’t even thought about it. “Clothes,” she said simply, her voice calm, a hint of indifference laced in her tone.

James sat up straighter, his phone forgotten on the cushion next to him. “Yeah, but what kind of clothes? You don’t normally dress like that.”

She raised an eyebrow, finally meeting his gaze with a small, almost amused smile. “You don’t normally notice.”

That shut him up for a moment. He watched her cross the room, heading to the kitchen without sparing him another glance.

“What’s with the attitude lately?” he called out after her, leaning back on the couch but keeping his eyes fixed on the doorway she had just disappeared through.

Emily poked her head back into the living room, holding a glass of water. Her expression was neutral, but there was something almost playful in her eyes. “I’m just giving you what you wanted, James. You don’t like it when I’m around too much, right? So, I’m giving you space.”

Her words felt like a slap disguised as a compliment. James clenched his jaw, his irritation bubbling to the surface. “You’re acting weird.”

“Maybe I’m just growing up,” she said with a shrug, disappearing back into the kitchen.

James stared after her, feeling a strange twist in his stomach. He didn’t like it. Whatever game she was playing, it wasn’t funny. And yet, for some reason, he couldn’t stop thinking about that damn smile of hers.

“Prepare for school,” James muttered, his voice sounding flat, as if the routine of the morning had already dulled his mood. He didn’t look up as she passed by him, heading towards his room to get ready. His thoughts were still jumbled from the days before, unsure of how to read the small changes he’d seen in her.

A few minutes later, Emily came back dressed in a simple yet undeniably cute outfit: a soft, pale pink sweater that hugged her frame just enough to look flattering, paired with high-waisted jeans and sneakers that added a carefree touch to her look. Her hair was slightly messy, like she hadn’t bothered to make it perfect, but somehow, it suited her. She looked so… natural. So, well, adorable .

James stopped mid-sip of his coffee, his gaze unintentionally fixed on her. There was something in the way she carried herself today—so effortlessly sweet and casual—that made his chest feel tight. She had that youthful energy, a vulnerability mixed with strength, and for the first time in a while, he felt… something.

“Are you staring at me?” Emily asked, her voice cutting through his thoughts. She raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a playful, almost teasing smile. She hadn’t noticed his lingering gaze.

James shook his head quickly, trying to hide his reaction. “No. Just hurry up. We’re running late.”

She didn’t say anything else, but she flashed him a small, knowing smile before grabbing her bag and heading out the door. He followed her in silence, though his mind was still on the way she looked.

They drove to school without exchanging a word, the car heavy with unspoken thoughts. James kept his eyes on the road, but his mind kept flickering back to the picture of her in that outfit. Cute. Adorable. Too cute. What was happening to him?

When they arrived at the school, the atmosphere shifted. The air felt different. In front of the entrance, a group of girls were waiting for Emily, their eyes scanning her as she approached. James caught the look they gave her—sharp, judgmental, dismissive. It wasn’t subtle.

Emily’s pace faltered for a second. James saw the subtle tightening in her shoulders, the momentary uncertainty flickering across her face. She was trying to hide it, but he could see it—the panic in her eyes, the way her expression shifted just enough to show she wasn’t as comfortable as she let on.

He parked the car and glanced over at her. He could see she was already preparing herself to face them, like she was about to put on a mask to shield herself from the harshness of their gazes.

When Emily stepped out of the car, she didn’t look back. Her eyes locked forward, walking towards the girls with purpose, but there was still that subtle hesitation in her every step. She wasn’t as confident as she tried to appear.

James noticed her adjusting her bag nervously as she approached the group. But then, he saw it—her textbook, sticking out of her bag, had fallen onto the seat beside her. She hadn’t noticed.

Without thinking, James quickly got out of the car, his eyes briefly scanning the group of girls again. Something in him tugged at the sight of Emily standing there, her discomfort clear despite her attempts to mask it. Maybe it was the way she had looked back at the car, just before walking toward them. Maybe it was the thought that no one should have to face that kind of judgment.

He grabbed the book from the seat and started walking toward her. The group of girls noticed him immediately, their eyes widening as he approached.

James was tall—well over six feet—broad-shouldered, with the kind of muscular frame that made heads turn. He had the type of presence that made him impossible to ignore. The girls looked him up and down, their expressions softening from judgment to something… different. They were eyeing him like they’d just seen a celebrity, their gazes lingering a bit too long, but he ignored them.

“Hey dumbass,” he called out, approaching Emily, who seemed momentarily startled. “You forgot this.”

He held the book out to her, and she blinked a few times before realizing what was going on. Her cheeks flushed as she took it from his hands, and for a brief moment, their fingers brushed against each other.

“Thanks,” she muttered, not quite meeting his eyes, her voice quieter than usual.

James looked at the group of girls, who were now eyeing him like he’d just appeared from another planet. One of them smiled, the others exchanging glances.

“You’re Emily’s… brother?” one of the girls asked, her tone a little too sweet for James’s liking.

James raised an eyebrow, folding his arms over his chest. “Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

The girl blinked, clearly caught off guard by his bluntness, but James didn’t care. He turned back to Emily, who was still standing awkwardly in front of them.

“You good?” he asked her, his voice low enough that only she could hear.

Emily nodded quickly, and he could see the relief in her eyes, even if she wasn’t showing it to the girls. He didn’t wait for their responses. He didn’t need to.

As he turned to head back to his car, Emily stayed behind, her feet carrying her toward the group of girls. She cast one last glance at James, who was already climbing into his car. He didn’t watch her leave, instead starting the engine with a sigh. But in the rearview mirror, he saw the girls and Emily walking into the school together, the tension still lingering in the air.

Notes:

Well, happy new year, merry christmas and enjoy as usual ! (i saw all of the comments and I SWEAR I’ll answer to everyone <3)

with love, girlwithadhd.

Chapter 13: Boundaries blurred

Summary:

Tensions rise as emotions run high, leading to a moment that shifts the dynamic between James and Emily forever. Boundaries are tested, and lines begin to blur in ways neither of them expected.

Notes:

As I said: Enjoy!! I’m so happy to finally get to write again! Stay tuned for the next chapter, I’m so excited!!

James pulled up in front of the school, spotting Emily walking out with her head low and her shoulders slumped. She didn’t look up until she reached the car, her movements sluggish as she climbed in and shut the door.

“You look like someone ran over your cat,” James commented, his tone dry but his eyes briefly flickering with concern.

Emily didn’t respond, simply fastening her seatbelt and looking out the window.

James tightened his grip on the steering wheel, his jaw clenching. He wasn’t good at dealing with… emotions. Especially hers. After a beat, he spoke again, his voice rough.

“Don’t sulk in my car. It’s depressing.”

Emily turned to glare at him, but it lacked her usual fire.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Alright, fine. Get yourself together. We’re going shopping. You need clothes, right? I got some money from that… whatever aid they send for you.”

Emily blinked at him, confused. “Wait, what?”

James rolled his eyes. “You heard me. Clothes, groceries, whatever. Let’s just get it done.”

Emily blinked again, then her lips quirked into the faintest smile, though her eyes still looked tired. “Are you bribing me to feel better with shopping?”

James scoffed, starting the car. “I don’t bribe anyone. Don’t make it weird.”

 

o

 

The drive to the mall was quiet. James had the radio on low, a local rock station filling the silence with mellow riffs. He didn’t push Emily to talk, though his occasional glances toward her revealed his unease. She had that same withdrawn look from earlier, and it bugged him more than he cared to admit.

When they arrived, Emily followed him into the store, her steps hesitant.

“Alright,” James said, gesturing toward the women’s section with a lazy wave of his hand. “Go nuts. Just don’t pick anything ridiculous.”

Emily looked up at him, her brow furrowing. “You’re just… letting me choose?”

“What? You want me to pick out a bunch of frilly dresses for you?” James smirked. “Go on, shortcake. I’m not a stylist.”

Emily rolled her eyes but headed toward the racks, her fingers brushing over fabrics as she browsed. James trailed a few steps behind, hands shoved in his pockets, trying to look disinterested but occasionally glancing at the items she considered.

“Do you like this?” Emily held up a simple sweater, her tone uncertain.

James shrugged. “Looks fine. Warm, I guess.”

Emily frowned. “You’re no help.”

“Didn’t say I’d be.”

She sighed and kept looking, picking out a few more items before heading toward the dressing rooms. James leaned against the wall outside, scrolling on his phone and trying not to look bored out of his mind.

A few minutes later, Emily stepped out, wearing a fitted black dress that stopped mid-thigh, paired with a cropped jacket she had found. Her legs were bare, her shoulders slightly exposed, and though it wasn’t flashy, the outfit hugged her figure just enough to be… noticeable.

James’s phone lowered slightly in his hand as his eyes swept over her, slow and deliberate.

“What?” Emily asked, frowning as she adjusted the jacket. “Does it look bad?”

His gaze locked onto hers, intense and unreadable, but there was something simmering beneath the surface, something darker. Emily froze under the weight of his eyes, feeling heat creep up her neck.

“No,” James said finally, his voice low and gravelly. He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing. “It doesn’t look bad.”

“Uh… okay,” Emily murmured, shifting uncomfortably under his stare.

James blinked, like snapping out of a daze, and immediately turned back to his phone, the moment passing as quickly as it came.

Emily ducked back into the dressing room, her heart pounding in her chest. She hadn’t missed the way he’d looked at her—different from the usual irritation or indifference. This time, his gaze had felt… predatory.

 

o

 

Pushing a cart through the aisles, James tossed items in with little thought, while Emily trailed behind, occasionally picking out things more carefully.

“Do you ever eat anything green?” she asked, holding up a bag of spinach.

“Nope.”

Emily shook her head and added it to the cart anyway. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here we are,” James replied, grabbing a six-pack of beer and tossing it in.

When they reached the checkout, Emily watched as James handed over a credit card, her gaze lingering on his face.

“Thank you,” she said softly as they loaded the bags into the car.

James paused, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. “For what?”

“For… this. For not being a total jerk today.”

James snorted. “Don’t get used to it.”

But as they drove home, the corners of his mouth twitched upward, just slightly.

 

o

 

Back home, Emily’s energy had shifted completely. She walked in with her usual quiet demeanor, but today, it felt different—more distant, more… withdrawn. She barely glanced at him as she made her way to his room, her face a mask of frustration and weariness. James noticed, of course. He always noticed when something was off with her, even if he didn’t always show it. But today, there was a lingering heaviness in the air.

He didn’t ask what was wrong, though. He knew better than to push her. Emily had her ways of shutting people out, especially when she was upset.

But there was something about her today that unsettled him. The silence between them felt thicker than usual. The kind of silence that left him wondering if he should care more, but also unsure if he had the right to.

As he sat there, aimlessly flicking through channels on the TV, his eyes kept drifting toward the bathroom door. The sound of the shower running was the only thing filling the space, but it was almost like the noise made the tension worse.

And then, almost out of nowhere, his gaze landed on her phone lying on the coffee table. He had no idea why, but it was like a magnetic pull. Maybe it was the strange knot in his stomach. Maybe it was the feeling of something he couldn’t quite place—something that made his mind race.

He reached for the phone before he could talk himself out of it. He knew it was wrong, that it was an invasion of privacy. But he couldn’t help himself.

He unlocked it easily, her passcode as simple as always. His thumb hesitated on the screen for just a moment. What am I even doing? But then, the words just kept scrolling on the screen in front of him.

A conversation with some guy. Someone he didn’t recognize.

At first, he tried to brush it off, but then the guy’s messages hit him like a punch to the gut. There was nothing too bad at first—just small talk, some school gossip. But as the conversation progressed, the messages became more insistent. “You look so good, Emily. Don’t you think you could send me a pic? I’d love to see you…”

James’s grip on the phone tightened until his knuckles turned white. What the hell is this?

The guy didn’t stop there, his messages growing bolder. “Come on, just a quick one. You know you want to… I swear I wouldn’t ask if you didn’t turn me on like this.”

James felt a strange heat rush to his face. His heart was pounding, but not from anger—no, it was something else entirely. This guy… what the hell does he think he’s doing?

He was furious, but not in the way he expected. The jealousy was fierce, rising like an uncontrollable wave. It clawed at him, burning him from the inside. Why does this bother me so much? She’s not mine.

He cursed under his breath, his mind racing. No, she’s not mine. She’s just… Emily. Not mine.

But then, his thoughts shifted. No, she is. I’m sure I was her first kiss. His stomach twisted in a way he didn’t like. What the fuck am I saying?

His fingers trembled, but he slammed the phone off and tossed it back onto the coffee table, breathing hard. His chest was tight, his jaw clenched. He could feel the anger and something darker pooling inside him, something he didn’t want to acknowledge.

“Calm down,” he muttered to himself. But it didn’t help. The jealousy wouldn’t stop, it was suffocating.

A few seconds later, Emily came out of the bathroom, her hair damp and loose around her shoulders, wearing one of her oversized shirts that made her look so small. She barely acknowledged him, her eyes still downcast, as if she was still lost in whatever had been bothering her all day.

James tried to breathe normally, trying to forget what he’d just seen. But all he could think about was that guy. The guy who was asking for pictures. The guy who was making her feel something that James wasn’t sure he wanted to admit he felt.

He glanced at Emily again. Her shoulders were tense. Her mood was still heavy. She freezes when she sees him holding her phone.

“James… what are you—”

His eyes lock onto hers, cold and intense. He stands up, stepping toward her. “Who’s this guy, Emily?” His voice is rough, anger simmering beneath the surface.

Her stomach drops, and she feels a knot form in her throat. “It’s none of your business.”

“It is now,” he growls, taking a step closer. “You think you can just talk to whoever you want behind my back?” His chest is rising and falling with frustration, and his eyes are sharp, as if he could tear her apart with just a look.

Emily tries to back away, but he grabs her wrist, pulling her closer. “Who is he, Emily? What’s this shit?” His voice lowers into something darker. “You think I don’t notice? You think I don’t care?”

She tries to jerk her arm away, but he tightens his grip, his hand hot against her skin. “Let go of me, James,” she snaps, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and fear.

James’ eyes narrow, and for a moment, there’s an eerie silence between them. Then he leans in, his face only inches from hers. “ You’re mine , Emily. Don’t forget that.”

Her breath catches in her throat, her heart pounding in her chest. She looks at him, wide-eyed, unsure of what’s happening. “What the hell are you talking about?”

He exhales sharply, shaking his head. “ You belong to me. Don’t fucking forget it. ”

Emily is frozen, her pulse racing. She opens her mouth to protest, but no words come out. James stares at her for a moment longer before releasing her wrist, pushing past her to the door. His voice is strained as he mutters, “Stay away from that guy.” Then, without another word, he walks out of the room, leaving her standing there, in a whirlwind of confusion and raw emotion.

As James storms out of the room, Emily stands frozen, her body still tingling from the force of his words. Her chest rises and falls erratically as her heartbeat pounds in her ears. She feels like the air is thick with tension, suffocating, and her hands tremble slightly by her sides.

What just happened? The words “You’re mine” echo in her head, a phrase that makes her stomach flip and her pulse race. Her mind is spinning, and she can’t seem to make sense of it. What did he mean by that? Was it just anger? Or something more?

Her heart feels as if it’s about to explode, beating so loudly she can almost hear it thudding against her ribs. She takes a shaky breath, trying to calm herself, but the adrenaline is still coursing through her veins. The room feels too small, too suffocating.

She glances toward the door, where James just disappeared, her chest tight and her emotions tangled in a mess of confusion. Was he serious? Was he just jealous?

But deep down, something stirs in her, a feeling she can’t quite define. Maybe it’s fear. Maybe it’s excitement. But her heart… her heart is screaming for more.

As she lets out a breath, her hand instinctively reaches for her chest, feeling the frantic beat of her heart beneath her fingers. She closes her eyes, letting the whirlwind of emotions settle… or at least, she tries.

The sound of her heart pounding still lingers in her ears, reminding her that everything has changed.

Notes:

Ahhhhhhh, so good to finally see that part ahaha. Enjoy !!

with love, girlwithadhd. (😝)

Chapter 14: Yours, Somehow

Summary:

Emily faces the emotional aftermath of a difficult confrontation, wrestling with fear, doubt, and a deepening confusion about her place in James’s world. Tension lingers as morning comes, and words left unsaid weigh heavier than ever.

Notes:

I want to sincerely apologize for the unexpected 4-month ish hiatus. Life got incredibly overwhelming, and I went through a really rough patch—both emotionally and physically. My health took a big hit, and I needed time to recover and breathe.

Coming back to this story has brought me comfort, and I’m so thankful to everyone who stuck around. Your patience and support mean the world to me. I truly hope the continuation of this story makes the wait worth it.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

with love, girlwithadhd.

Emily sat on the edge of the bed, her fingers clenched around the fabric of her shirt as she replayed the confrontation with James in her head. The words “You’re mine” echoed in her mind, but they did nothing to calm the storm inside her.

What did he think of me now? She wondered, heart sinking. Does he hate me? Does he think I’m just like every other girl?

The guy who’d been texting her wasn’t just some random, desperate loser. No, he was popular. Charismatic. He had influence at school, and she’d been foolish enough to fall into the trap of believing that maybe, just maybe, he actually liked her. But now, with James knowing, she couldn’t help but feel disgusted with herself.

She closed her eyes, trying to push the thoughts away. He’s just like them, she told herself. He only wanted one thing.

But then, she thought about James. His anger. His possessiveness. Was it jealousy? Did he even care about her, or was it just a reaction to someone encroaching on what he thought was his? She wasn’t sure. She didn’t know what to think anymore.

I’m just a burden, she thought, a lump forming in her throat. I’m disgusting. I’ll probably just make him hate me even more.

The vulnerability she’d tried so hard to hide was now impossible to ignore. She wasn’t strong, she wasn’t tough. The reality was, she was scared. She was scared of being alone again, of pushing away the one person who had somehow come to mean more than she ever expected.

Emily’s hands trembled as she stood by the window, her breath uneven. Her thoughts spiraled, guilt and fear intertwining until she couldn’t tell which was worse. James knew. He knew. And now, she couldn’t shake the look in his eyes—the fury, the disbelief, the intensity that left her feeling exposed, vulnerable.

Her chest tightened. He must hate me. He must think I’m disgusting.

She turned away from the window, her fingers digging into the fabric of her shirt as if grounding herself. A sudden, sharp knock at the door made her freeze.

“Emily,” James’s voice was low, rough—no softness in it this time.

She hesitated, every nerve in her body screaming for her to ignore it, to let the moment pass. But she couldn’t. Slowly, she walked to the door and opened it.

James stood there, his tall frame practically filling the doorway, his jaw clenched tight, his dark eyes burning with an intensity that made her want to shrink back. He didn’t waste a second before stepping inside, his presence overwhelming the small space.

“Did you send him photos?” he asked, his voice sharp and cold, cutting through the silence like a knife.

Emily’s eyes widened. Her heart dropped to her stomach. “W-what?” she stammered, trying to process the question.

“You heard me,” James said, his tone rising slightly, his gaze pinning her in place. “Did you send that asshole pictures of yourself?”

Her throat felt like it was closing. She couldn’t answer. Her lips parted, but no sound came out.

“Emily,” James growled, stepping closer, his fists clenched at his sides. “Don’t make me ask again.”

“No!” she finally blurted out, her voice breaking. “I didn’t send him anything, I swear!”

James exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. He turned away for a moment, pacing the room like a caged animal, his shoulders tense, his breathing ragged. Then, abruptly, he stopped and turned back to her.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded, his voice quieter now but no less intense. “Why the hell would you keep this from me?”

“I—” Emily’s voice wavered, tears pricking at her eyes. “I didn’t know how… I thought I could handle it.”

“Handle it?” James’s eyes darkened further. “You think this is something you just ‘handle’? Some creep harassing you for weeks, and you think it’s fine to keep it to yourself?”

Emily flinched at his words, but he didn’t let up.

“Do you have any idea how reckless that is? How stupid—” He stopped himself, exhaling deeply, his hands running down his face. “God, Emily… You’re mine. Do you get that? You’re mine. I can’t—” He broke off, shaking his head, his frustration palpable.

Her heart stopped at his words. “I…” She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. Her mind caught on the way he’d said it, the way his voice cracked just slightly on the word mine.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” she whispered after a moment, her voice trembling. “You already… You already think I’m annoying. I didn’t want to make it worse.”

James stared at her, stunned into silence for a moment. Then, without warning, he let out a sharp, humorless laugh, shaking his head again. “Annoying? Jesus, Emily. You ARE annoying. You’re—” He cut himself off, his jaw tightening as he took a step closer to her, his eyes boring into hers. “Don’t ever do that again. Don’t ever keep something like this from me. I don’t care what you think I’ll say or do. You tell me. Do you understand?”

Emily nodded quickly, her throat too tight to speak.

James exhaled again, his anger simmering down into something more restrained but no less intense. “Good,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair again. “Because if I ever find out you’re dealing with something like this alone again, I swear to God, Emily…”

He didn’t finish the sentence, and she wasn’t sure she wanted him to.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, tears slipping down her cheeks now. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t fucking apologize,” James interrupted, his voice still firm. “Don’t do that shit again.”

The room fell into silence, thick with unspoken words and emotions neither of them knew how to express. Emily wiped at her face, trying to compose herself, but her heart was still pounding from his earlier declaration. You’re mine.

James took a step back, running a hand over his face. “Go get some sleep. You can sleep here tonight,” he muttered, turning toward the door.

Emily nodded, watching as he walked out, closing the door behind him. The moment he was gone, she sank to the floor, her chest heaving as she tried to process everything that had just happened. His anger, his words, the way he’d looked at her… It was all too much.

But one thing kept echoing in her mind, over and over again: You’re mine.

 

o

 

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting soft golden lines across Emily’s face. She blinked awake slowly, her body heavy with the weight of the previous night. Her heart still ached. James’s anger, his words—“you’re mine”—echoed in her mind like a broken record. But more than anything, the question he’d asked haunted her.

Did he really think she would have sent something?

She sat up quietly, listening for any noise. The apartment was unusually silent. No clinking of mugs, no footsteps. She slipped out of bed, padding softly down the hall. James was in the kitchen, back turned, staring into a cup of coffee he hadn’t touched. His hair was a mess, like he hadn’t slept.

Emily hesitated in the doorway.

“Hey,” she said softly.

He didn’t turn. “You’ve got school.”

She swallowed hard. “I know.”

He finally looked over his shoulder, his eyes tired but less stormy. “Go get ready.”

She nodded and turned, but then paused. “James…?”

“What?”

“I didn’t send him anything. Not a single thing. I swear… I’d never do that…”

He stayed silent.

“I just… I thought you should know.”

Still no answer, but when she turned away, she heard the faintest sigh behind her. Not relief. Something closer to regret.

Chapter 15: Crossing the thin line

Notes:

No chapter summary for this one, to be honest I’m kind of not feeling like it xD.

But I’m back with another chapter, I took some time to actually write chapter 16, 17 and 18. That’s why I’ve been taking so looooong to upload. Like this, I won’t have to stress because it’s been too long since I’ve posted a chapter.

All this yapping for nothing, enjoy !

with love, girlwithadhd.

It had been a week since James’s declaration, and things had somehow, strangely, returned to the way they were. Emily could feel the distance between them again, the coldness creeping back in. He barely spoke to her, his gaze never lingered as it had before. He was back to being the indifferent, guarded James she had known before—hard to read, emotionally distant.

She couldn’t tell if it was because of what happened or if he had simply gotten tired of her. Maybe she had misinterpreted his words, or maybe he had only said what he had in a moment of anger. Either way, she was left questioning everything. What was the point of it all? Why did it feel like he was pushing her away now more than ever?

Sitting on the couch, she tried to focus on the TV, but the silence between them was deafening. Every once in a while, she'd catch him glancing at her from across the room, but it was never the same look—no warmth, no fire, just... nothing.

“James,” Emily finally broke the silence, her voice barely above a whisper. She didn’t even know why she had spoken, but the weight of the silence was getting to her. He didn’t respond, keeping his eyes fixed on his phone, as though she hadn’t even spoken.

She frowned, frustration welling up inside her. She thought about the week that had passed. Was this all she was worth to him? A quick fix, a fleeting moment of tenderness that he had now completely turned off?

Emily couldn’t take it anymore. The distance. The silence. The cold stares and sharp words. She was suffocating in it.

Without thinking, she got up from the couch and walked straight to James, who was sitting with his phone in hand, just like he had been every day this week.

She reached out and took the phone from him—not aggressively, but firmly enough to catch his attention.

James looked up, surprised, his brows furrowed.
She held the phone close to her chest.

“I’m trying, James. I’m trying so hard and you’re just—” she paused, swallowing hard, “cold. Distant. Like none of it meant anything.”

He didn’t respond, his jaw clenched.

She stepped closer. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to upset you. I just… I want to understand.” Her voice softened. “Why did you say I was yours?”

Silence. Heavy. Tense.

James stared at her for a long moment, unreadable. And Emily held his gaze, even though her heart was racing.

James’s eyes narrowed, not in anger this time, but in something closer to conflict. He stood up slowly, towering over her. His voice was low, rough — not quite controlled.

“Because you are,” he said, like the words hurt to admit. “You’re mine. I don’t know when it happened, I don’t know how the hell it happened, but it did.”

Emily blinked, breath caught in her throat.

James ran a hand through his hair, frustrated with himself. “And it pisses me off,” he added, laughing bitterly. “Because you shouldn’t be. I shouldn’t want you to be.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but he wasn’t finished.

“You get under my skin. You make me care. And when I saw that guy messaging you, asking you for shit like that?” His voice cracked slightly. “I lost it, Emily. Because I knew… I knew if you ever gave yourself to someone like that, I’d fucking lose my mind.”

Emily’s lips parted, heart pounding. “But… I didn’t. I wouldn’t.”

He looked at her then, really looked — and something in his shoulders dropped. “I know.”

Silence fell between them again, but this time it wasn’t cold. It was heavy with meaning, with tension, with something neither of them dared name just yet.

“James,” she whispered, her voice trembling, “what are we even doing?”

He didn’t have an answer. But he reached out and gently took his phone back, fingers brushing hers for just a second too long.

“We’re figuring it out,” he muttered.

Emily bit her lip, almost afraid to ask the question that had been buzzing in her mind for days. “So… are we like… girlfriend and boyfriend?”

James scoffed, his face twisting in a mix of disbelief and frustration. He laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “That’s dumb. It’s not like that, Emily. Stop putting labels on things that don’t need labels.”

The words hit her like a slap in the face, her chest tightening as she tried to swallow down the sting. She had hoped for something more, something she could understand, but it only felt like he was pushing her further away.

She looked down, her hands trembling slightly. “Then what does it mean?” she asked quietly, the vulnerability in her voice undeniable. “What does being yours mean?”

James’s face softened for a split second, before he let out a long sigh, his posture sagging as he ran a hand through his hair. “It means I’m fucked up, Emily. I’m twisted. You don’t want to know what it means. You’re better off not knowing.”

Emily’s breath caught in her throat, his words cutting deeper than she expected. The idea that he thought she wouldn’t want to understand was almost worse than the anger. She wanted to know. She needed to know.

“Tell me,” she whispered, looking up at him. “Please… tell me.”

James met her gaze, his expression hardening again, but there was something softer in his eyes. Something darker. “It means you’re mine, but I’m not yours. I own you. But you sure as hell don’t get to own me. It means that… when you’re around, I’m not sure if I want to protect you or destroy you.”

Emily’s heart skipped a beat. Her breath caught as his words sunk in. She wasn’t sure what was worse — the fact that he seemed to believe that or the fact that she couldn’t stop wanting him anyway.

She let the silence stretch out between them, her mind reeling. She wasn’t sure if she should walk away, run far from the mess he was pulling her into, or stay and try to make sense of it all.

She settled on something that felt safer — asking the only question that seemed to matter. “So, what happens now?”

James stepped closer, his eyes never leaving hers, and his voice softened, though still heavy with an emotion she couldn’t name. “Good luck Em’.”

The air between them thickened, and for the first time in a long time, Emily didn’t know whether she was going to sink or swim. But she was already too deep to turn back.

"So… does being yours mean you’re going to kiss me again?" she asked quietly, her voice trembling, unsure whether she wanted the answer.

James' gaze darkened, and a wicked smirk curled on his lips, his eyes never leaving hers as he took a step closer. "You think it stops at a kiss?" he muttered, almost like a growl, his voice rough and low.

Her pulse quickened, her mind swirling with the possibilities. She could feel the tension in the air, the crackle of something dangerous but magnetic pulling her toward him, and she couldn’t help but want to know what it meant.

"I'm going to do so much more," he said softly, his eyes flickering with something possessive. "Every first will be mine, Emily. Every single one."

His words sent a shiver down her spine, and she swallowed hard, unsure whether to feel excitement or dread. She was standing on the edge of something she couldn't quite comprehend, something that felt like both a dream and a nightmare.

"All of them?" she whispered, her voice barely audible, but there was a quiet longing behind it.

"All of them," James confirmed, his voice thick with meaning, his face inches from hers. "And you won’t be able to stop me."

The way he said it, so confident and sure, made her stomach churn with a strange mixture of fear and desire. She wanted to run. She wanted to pull away. But instead, she stood there, rooted to the spot, drawn in by the intensity of his presence.

Emily slowly made her way to the couch and sat beside him, close but not quite touching. The room felt too quiet, her heart too loud. James leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together tightly. He didn’t look at her.

He exhaled, long and heavy, like the weight of everything was finally settling on his shoulders. “Your parents are going to beat the shit out of me for this,” he muttered, half to himself, half to her.

Emily glanced at him, eyes softening. “They won’t.”

He scoffed bitterly. “They will. And they’d be right to.”

She looked down at her hands, thumbs fidgeting. “You didn’t force me.”

“That’s not the point,” James snapped, then flinched at his own voice. He rubbed his face, then spoke more quietly, “You’re a kid. I’m… I’m the one who should’ve known better.”

Emily’s chest ached. “You treat me like I’m so fragile, but I’m not stupid. I know what this is. What it could be.”

James finally looked at her, and for a moment, he didn’t see a kid. He saw someone who saw through him, who held more courage than he did. And maybe that scared him more than anything.

He leaned back against the couch, eyes closed. “That’s the problem, Em.”