What does "THE FAULT IN OUR STARS" mean to you?

Sometimes The Universe Doesn't Screw Up - Chapter 4

By: xanaliewrites

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CHAPTER FOUR

He was cupping her face with both hands now, whispering to her, holding her. Once, he had broke into her house. She woke up, screaming and crying from a bad dream. Her mother didn’t even bother to check on her—not that she expected her mother to do so. Her mother was always telling her to be strong, and that crying only showed how weak she was. But she was wrong; you have to be brave enough to show your feelings, and that is how you grow stronger.

She must have been loud, for a few minutes later he had climbed in through her room window with a tub of chocolate frosting and a spoon. Her mother only found out the next day when she found them in bed; she was clutching her tub of half-empty chocolate frosting, her head resting on his collarbone, her mouth opened in a little ‘o’. His arms were wrapped around her, forming a little cage, as if he could protect her from the cruel, dark world. She had trusted him with everything she had, for even if she lost all those things, she still had him.

Now, as he held her gently, his hand lingering on her cheek, she felt that feeling again. She felt that feeling where she could trust him with her life, no matter what the consequences. She could jump off a cliff, and into a raging river, and know that he wouldn’t let go of the cord that held her up.

“Jem,” she breathed.

The tears were gone; her eyes now tired and dry. But she felt… peaceful. She had never felt so peaceful in such a long time.

Every time she would sleep over at his house, she would always wake up earlier than him. She would wake up at dawn, the soft yellow shining through the drapes. He was still fast asleep, eyes shut, his body curled in a fetal position. There was nothing much she could do but look at him while he slept. She watched him, taking in everything; the way his chest rose and fell, the way he cheeks puffed when he exhaled. Nothing mattered in that moment. They were two people in the universe; who hadn’t a care in the world. It was one of the moments she wanted to stop time, and stay in that moment for as long as she could.

It was the last time she had stayed over at his house.

 “What time is it?” she breathed. He glanced at his watch. “Almost twelve thirty,” he replied. “Time flies fast, doesn’t it?” he smiles, and this time, it isn’t a sad one. She closed her eyes. Her energy was drained, her body was weak and fluttering, but she kept her eyes open, looking at him. “We should be getting back.” She inhaled sharply—What if tonight was a dream? What if she woke up tomorrow, in her bed, alone, and he became a stranger once more?

What if this wasn’t a dream, and he still remained a stranger?

Her hand grabbed his, and held on tightly. If he was shocked by how hard she was squeezing his fingers, he didn’t show it. He leaned in close again, closing most of the space between them. “Hey,” he said, his voice like a comforting lullaby. “Don’t leave me,” she said. She feared that if she had given him everything she had once more, he would leave, and nothing would be left—only the deep, terrifying void of emptiness, and oblivion.

He looked at her, into her eyes that reflected her fear, and he heard what they told him. “Valerie,” he whispered, and closed the space between them, softly brushing his lips against hers.

He tasted of beer and his lips were slightly chapped in the corners. It wasn’t a first kiss a girl would fantasize about, but it made her mind sigh, and her heart sing like the robin’s song in the spring. She closed her eyes, and her hand came to rest on the breast of his shirt. For a few moments, there was nothing but absolute happiness. Happiness that was complete, and made her feel as she could sing and dance the night and darkness away. Happiness that tasted like gas station beer and felt like soft cotton and a steady heartbeat. Happiness—love.

He pulled away just so, their foreheads touching.

Her eyes felt tired, even though they were closed. She was going to fall asleep any moment now, slipping into the dark world that was her mind.

She rested her weight on his lips, exhausted. He cupped her face again, and smiled at her, the curve of his mouth chasing away the nightmares. Slowly, he leaned back into the bathtub. “Come here,” he said, and she obliged. She laid down beside him, the bathtub surprisingly cool and comfortable. Her eyelids shaded half her eye now, but she could still see Jem, who was shifting to let her sleep on his shoulder.

When they were finally comfortable, he said softly: “Get some sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.” She craned her neck slightly, even though her eyes were fully shut now. “Promise?” she yawned.

He wrapped his arms around her, protecting her from the cruel, dark world. She rested her hand on his chest, feeling his heart.

“I promise.”

And together, they went to sleep, knowing that the dreams that were to come would be good ones; about pillow forts and wooden swords and paper crowns and tinfoil gowns; dreams about the crunch of the golden leaves in the autumn, and the stars that twinkled in the night sky.