Jack's POV

The very first thing I felt was the hammering in my head. It was as though there were a stampede, all clambering around, creating chaos and havoc, all when I needed sleep the most. I hadn't even opened my eyes yet but I could feel how heavy my eyelids were, begging, pleading to go back to sleep, but my throat was screaming for water so reluctantly I forced them open. Instantly, the white lights of Dalton's room came into vision, the aching in my head multiplying. My mind went back to last night and even the mere thought of the smell of vodka made the sickness in my throat become a prominent taste in my mouth. Water. I need water.

I sat up slowly, my hand clutching at my hair, shielding the light from my fragile eyes. Half awake, my eyes lazily scanned the table next to the bed and never have I been more grateful to see a glass of water in my entire life.

I sighed in relief, grasping the glass and swallowing the contents in a matter of seconds. I placed the glass back onto the table, unaware of my surroundings, until I noticed something.

I noticed the extra pillows surrounding my body, I noticed the extra bounciness of the mattress, the smell of the quilt, the thickness of the covers. I was on Dalton's bed.

Shifting my eyes, I focused on Dalton, who was cuddled into my small bed on the opposite side of the room, his mouth slightly parted and eyelashes glistening against the warm July sun. He was beautiful. There was no way around it. When he was completely at peace, no anger, no frustration, no hatred, he was truly beautiful.

I tried to get some sleep again but my head was pounding, the pain vibrating through my body, polluting my ever so important sleep.

I ended up lying there, the memories of last night staining my mind. I was drunk. I've never been drunk before. It wasn't even that good.

I was drunk in front of Dalton. He must think I'm an idiot now. He was probably so embarrassed to be seen with me.

All the flashbacks were clear, I remembered everything. I remembered getting jealous. I remembered trying to down the bottles of vodka that Dalton's friends were giving me. I remembered accusing Dalton of leaving me when he never even had to stay in the first place and came straight back after he was done. I remember that even though I was being horrible and accusing Dalton, he didn't retaliate like he normally would have, he didn't get defensive, like he should have because I was being completely unreasonable, he was just simply more comforting.

My thoughts were disturbed when I heard shuffling from the other side of the room.

"Morning." He croaked, still half asleep.

"Morning." I replied awkwardly.

"How you feeling? Hungover?" He grinned slightly, sitting up on the mattress and facing me completely.

"Uhm, yeah, a little bit. Is that bad?"

"No, you were pretty fucked so I'd be surprised if you felt fine." There were no tones of annoyance or hatred in his voice as he spoke.

"I'm sorry about yesterday." My head fell, not wanted to meet Dalton's eyes as he remembered all the things I blamed him of doing, I couldn't face seeing the disappointment in his eyes.

"Sorry about what?"

"Well the whole night, but specifically when we were waiting for the taxi, I said some stuff I didn't mean." I swallowed, mentally preparing myself for the anger potentially coming.

"It's okay, I'm not mad." My head flew up, confused by his words.

"You're not? I literally accused you of leaving and tried to make you feel guilty when, firstly, you d-didn't even have to stay with me in the first place and secondly, you came straight back." I explained.

"So? You were drunk. Emotions were heightened, who cares?" Okay. This boy is amazing. Actually truly amazing.

The knot in my stomach began to ease. "Thank you, and I am sorry, I promise I didn't mean anything and I'm glad I got to go to my first party with you." I sighed in relief, glad to be woken up with Dalton in a good mood.

"Have you got a headache or anything? I could run downstairs quickly and grab some painkillers for you." He offered.

"Oh, no. It's fine, don't worry about it." I tried, not wanting him to have to get out of bed and leave me here by myself. I had a headache, I had a numbing headache, but making Dalton go out of his way for me, more than he already had, didn't sit well.

"I'm going to get myself a drink so I'll just grab some anyways, okay?" He stood up, his chest finally exposed completely from the covers now.

I could never imagine having a body like his. It was sun kissed, bronze, golden. His abs were defined, carved out by the finest sculptors. His muscles were prominent, drool-worthy. He was a work of art.

"Okay, thank you." I mumbled shyly before watching him leave the room. I listened to his movements, however they were cut short when he stop moving.

I heard Katherine's door open and her and Dalton began talking.

I wasn't listening at first, I was in my own world, gazing at the plain walls. But my daydream ended when I heard my name. I didn't mean to, and I didn't want to, I know it's rude, but curiosity got the better of me so I inched my way to the edge of the bed to get a better chance at hearing what they were talking about.

"Dalton, how could you possibly do that?"

"I didn't mean to, I was with him for the whole night and then I saw Amber and she was a mess so I had to help her." He sounded angry. She also sounded frustrated.

"Amber isn't my responsibility, Jack is. How dare you let him get that drunk. What happened to you being responsible?" She was whispering, but her words were harsh, poison dripping off of her tongue.

"Fuck off, when have I ever been responsible, hey? When, mum? When? And it was his choice, I'm letting him have a fucking life. Think about the shit he's been though, don't you think he deserves to let go once in a while?" Dalton was furious. He swore often but when around his parents, he did have the decency to keep the swearing to a minimum. But not right now.

"I think it's okay for him to let go, but I saw him last night when you brought him in, Dalton. I saw the fact that you were practically holding him up. Letting go," she held up air quotations, "does not mean nearly killing the poor boy."

"Nearly killing him?" He scoffed, eyebrows furrowed. "How the fuck did I nearly kill him?"

"You've seen how little that boy is, he could probably only handle a small proportion of what you can handle, you know that."

Wow, okay then. I'm not that little.

"For the last time, mother," He spat the words out viciously, "I didn't let him drink that much. Shit came up with Amber and you barely know fuck all about me but you know about Amber. You know our past, mum. Can you really expect me to leave her be if she's breaking down?" Both their voices were softer now, but the tension was still polluting the air.

"No, I respect that you helped out Amber, but Jack was your top priority."

"Don't you think I know that? I took her somewhere private and made sure she was okay and tucked her in in the space of about 5 minutes, I literally couldn't have been any quicker." He explained, I could tell his patience was running thin.

"Good for you, but what would have happened if he had gotten hurt or too drunk and had to go to the hospital, they'd have to call his parents and do you think you could do that. Because that would only end two ways. The parents refusing to come, which in turn would hurt Jack. Or the parents coming, spewing their homophobic thoughts everywhere, also leading to Jack getting hurt."

It's not that I'd forgotten about my parents, because trust me, they were still fresh in my mind, but I thought that maybe if I left them for a while, they'd come around, but clearly they don't think so. Knowing your parents hate you is a hard pill to swallow. Knowing your parents will hate you forever is an even harder pill to swallow.

"I would knock his fucking parents out if they even said one bad thing about him."

"That's not the point. The point is that you are irresponsible and put Jack in danger because of your crush on Amber." He didn't reply to this at first, instead just laughed and shook his head.

"It is impressive how you've raised me for 17 years and you still know so fucking little about me." Before she got the chance to reply, he shoved past her, and soon the stomping down the stairs morphed into the slamming of the front door.

A knot of guilt formed in my stomach. They had just argued about me, because of me.

My first plan of action was to grab my phone to call Dalton. I rummaged around the room until I found it tucked under my bed for some reason. When I called it though, the echoes of Dalton's ringtone from the side of my bed near where he slept filled my ears. He left his phone here.

That's when I came to the realisation of what he was wearing too. Unless he grabbed a jacket, which I didn't hear him doing, he was out in only grey joggers. I seriously hope he's okay.

Also, I had a faint memory of exiting the taxi after the party which meant Dalton's car was still securely parked at Savannah's house. Therefore, he had no phone, no car and no top on.

If he gets hurt, I would never be able to forgive myself. He left because of an argument about me, it would be my fault if anything happened.

Those thoughts lingered with me through the entire day. Breakfast became lunch and lunch became dinner, yet no one had heard from Dalton.

Around lunch time, I walked all the way to the court, the only place that I knew he visited often, only to be disappointed when there park was empty, the only sound was the trees, that enclosed me from the outside world, rustling and shouting.

That night was stressful. Dalton didn't have his wallet or phone, which meant no money or way to communicate with me. I was worried. Really worried.

The hours passed as I paced his room, excessively flicking my focus from the ticking clock to the window. The room was silent too. No tv on. No music playing. I wanted to hear when his car pulled up. I wanted to hear if his car pulled up.

He didn't show up though. I ended up trying to get some sleep, but I found myself tossing and turning, the thought of Dalton being upset and alone, and possibly in danger, circling my mind a million times.

Eventually though, around 3am, I began to drift into a dreamless sleep.