j: hey nancy, are you awake?

n: yeah. now i am.

j: oh sorry! did i wake you up?

n: yeah.

n: come in here and stop being ridiculous. this is your apartment, you know. (:

j: i know, i was just

j: you know

j: trying to be respectful.

Nancy looked up and smiled at the sound of the knock at the bedroom door. She had slept alone, peacefully, in Jonathan's bed last night, although she insisted that they stay in there together. Jonathan had fought back and told her that he wasn't sure if he was comfortable with that yet. He slept on the couch.

"Are you dressed?" he called behind the closed door.

Nancy rolled her eyes, but it was honestly flattering to her how shy and careful he was being with her. Even after they had gotten back last night from their day in the city and had spent hours on the couch unable to tear themselves away from each other, he had been more than careful about where he put his hands, always stopping to make sure that she was okay with everything that he was doing.

"Yes," she answered, pushing herself up in bed and rubbing her eyes. She couldn't explain it to herself, but she felt like she was floating on a cloud. She had never felt this relaxed and carefree. She couldn't stop smiling. "But even if I wasn't, I wouldn't mind if you came in."

"I know, I know." She had told him the same thing last night after she had finished showering. He pushed the door open, entering the room with his eyes downcast and nearly hidden underneath his messy, bedraggled hair. Slowly, he looked up at her, and a small smile graced his lips. The way that the light filtered in through the window and hit his face made him look like a marble sculpture, and Nancy felt her heart flutter in her chest at the sight. He was stunning and far too perfect to understand.

"How did you sleep?" he asked, running a hand through his hair, then shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He was wearing the same clothes he had been wearing yesterday. Must have been too exhausted last night to bother changing into pajamas.

"Perfectly," she answered with a grin, moving over in bed to make room for him. "What about you?"

He shrugged and returned the smile. Nancy noticed that the skin around his eyes crinkled when he smiled, and she had this sudden overwhelming urge to trace her fingers across it.

"You wore me out yesterday," he said.

Nancy raised an eyebrow at him, watching as he seated himself next to her, careful to keep his distance. She smirked. "Oh, you have no idea what I can do to you, Jonathan Byers."

He did not look at her but coughed nervously and very dramatically. She watched as a slow blush crept up his neck and made its way to his cheeks, and she laughed a little and took his hand in her own, squeezing his fingers tightly. He finally looked up at her and managed the tiniest of smiles.

"I'm half kidding," she said.

He did not respond. For a long moment, his wide eyes grazed over her face, down her neck, her chest, all the way down to her toes, and then back up again, studying her, scrutinizing her. Her lips parted with some witty joke hanging out on the tip of her tongue, ready to make its escape, but she found that his gaze made her stomach flutter nervously, her heart pick up speed, and now it was her turn to blush.

"W-what?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She lifted the sheets over her face until only her eyes weren't covered so that he could not see the heat that had flushed her cheeks. "What are you staring at?"

"Nothing," he replied. "I just think you look really beautiful in the morning. I mean...you look beautiful all the time. But there's something about the morning...you just look...ethereal."

Nancy felt bumps rise along her skin. It was almost as if someone had punched her in the chest, rendering her breathless. No one had ever complimented her like that. She was "pretty" or "cute" or "hot." Not ethereal.

"Can I kiss you?" Jonathan asked, but before he could even get the question out, Nancy was closing the space between them and pressing her lips hard against his. It startled him just as much as their first kiss, but he was more comfortable now, more willing, and it took no time at all for him to respond. She wrapped her arms around his neck and ran her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer and closer to her until there was no room to move, no room to breathe, and she admired how well their bodies seemed to melt together, as if they were two parts of a machine that only needed connecting before the whole contraption worked.

Slowly, he lowered her onto her back on the pillows, only stopping to make sure that she was comfortable, but she did not answer as she kissed him again, rougher and needier now. Her fingers glided along the skin of his neck and gradually traced their way down his abdomen to the hem of his shirt, slightly raised and exposing the bare skin of his tummy. She desperately wanted to explore the rest of his body, but as she ran her hands underneath his shirt and touched the small of his back, he pulled away suddenly, his eyes wide as he jerked his shirt down to cover himself up.

"I'm sorry," Nancy said. "I'm sorry. I really shouldn't have --"

"It's fine. I just...I don't want this to go too far. It's just going to make things harder."

"Right." Nancy frowned, curling her legs up close to her and resting her head on her knees. For the first little while of her waking, she was able to forget that this was all going to end, that Jonathan was moving to London to better himself. Now, she just felt hollow.

Jonathan let out a breath and moved away from her, leaning against the bed frame and looking utterly hopeless. "I'm sorry. We shouldn't have done this."

Nancy looked over at him, her eyes wide, and she shook her head vigorously, taking his hand in hers again. "No! Don't say that. Please. There's nothing I would change about any of this. I'm glad that we finally...I mean...I think that we would have felt worse if we never..."

"Maybe." He looked up at her as his thumb traced circles on the back of her hand soothingly. "What are we supposed to do?"

Nancy shrugged, biting her lip. "We could try long distance."

Jonathan shook his head. "It won't work."

"But we could try."

"It's too far. I don't know how long I'll be gone."

Each word felt like a stab to the heart. "Then I'll come with you."

Jonathan laughed humorlessly. "Don't be ridiculous, Nancy. Your life is here. Your family --"

"They've survived without me."

"You can't leave Mike and Holly, Nancy. You know that."

She did know that. She did not argue. Her chest felt very tight, constricting with sobs building up inside of her that were clawing their way up, trying to escape, but she would not let them. Her eyes stung with tears she wiped away before they could trail down her cheeks. It seemed awfully unfair to have something this perfect working for her, only for it to be snatched away.

"Then let me have the rest of the time you'll be here in New York," she said. "Please. Can we at least have that?"

Jonathan was silent for a long time as he played with her fingers, never looking up at her. She stared at his eyelashes, his parted lips, and listened to the rhythm of his breathing, desperately trying to memorize every detail about him.

"We can have that," he finally said. "But don't fall in love with me, Nancy Wheeler. Promise."

She smiled, letting out a breath of relief. Tears escaped anyway, and she wiped them away. "Don't flatter yourself. I promise I won't fall in love with you."

But she already knew that the promise was broken. It had been for a long time.