a/n: The title of this fic is taken from the title of an album by Bright Eyes (which is really good btw). This story is an Alex/Paige pairing told from Alex's POV. There is nothing too explicit, but there a couple instances of some very naughty words, so...

This is my first fanfic so, as always, feedback is most welcomed/appreciated.

I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning

Okay, so this feeling is weird. And it's not going away. Should I be worried?

I'm lying awake, just staring at the ceiling, trying to ignore this little wave of anxiety that I can feel building up in the pit of my stomach. I'm tired, we partied late last night, her and me. It's nearly noon now, but I slept, what? On and off for a few hours? I don't like worrying at the best of times. But being overtired and worrying, this really sucks.

I blink hard a few times as I try to half-heartedly work out whether that's a stain in the corner of the ceiling or just a shadow. Could it be damp? This place looks too new and, well, properly looked-after to have damp. Did some lame-ass student leave their bath over-running or something? Nah, actually I reckon it is just a shadow. The way the light's filtering through the blind, it's gotta be. Looks like it's pretty sunny outside. I could get up. Go outside. Breathe fresh air. No, too early, definitely. Especially as it's Saturday on a university campus. These places seem to operate inside their own little time zones. I can make out detached snatches of conversation drifting in from outside. Some guys out in the hall talking about some hockey game. The faraway strains of that new Coldplay song the radio's busy playing to death.

But here in her room, in her bed, it's still and quiet. It feels closed off from everything else, protected. So, why don't I feel safe? If anything I feel…restless. Nervous. Like I should get up and start moving. Anywhere, just to keep moving, just to be doing, to not be thinking.

I almost roll my eyes at myself. This was my doing. I put myself here so now I've gotta deal with it. I knew she would go away to university; she was so determined, so driven, so damn smart. So what if I had gotten her stoned and inadvertently ruined her academic dream? She'd find a way. I guess what I didn't bank on was that we'd still be together when that happened. What can I say? When your future is predestined to failure you tend to avoid thinking ahead. But lo and behold we were doing this, we were having a fully-functional relationship, the high school head cheerleader and the trashy broken-homed freak. Okay, so it wasn't without its share of drama. She likes to shop. A lot. And I, apparently, I don't have any patience. Oh and she likes to talk. All. The. Time. And sometimes, just sometimes, I like everyone to shut the fuck up. But all of that stuff, that just fell by the wayside. I mean, I love this girl, all that other stuff, that's nothing…

So we discussed options when she got accepted. I could visit. We could break-up. We did actually break-up, for like, a whole afternoon. It was quite possibly the shittiest feeling I have ever had in my short existence.

"You'll just be partying all the time," I told her.

"Uh-huh," she reluctantly agreed.

"And you'll be studying the rest of the time," I suggested.

"Well, yeah, in theory," she offered.

"So, it'll just be a hassle. Like, me calling you, and then you having to call me and stuff. Y'know, like if you're out and then maybe I'll wonder where you are and what you're doing…"

"Well, it'll be the same for me too," she countered.

"Oh come on Paige. You'll be in a whole new environment . With a whole new crowd and a whole new bunch of experiences waiting for you. I'll just be…here. Same shit, y'know? It's not fair. On you or me."

Somehow the last part just tumbled out of my mouth.

"So, what are you saying? You want to break-up with me?"

It was like one of those out of body experiences, when you can see yourself about to do something totally stupid and you're yelling at yourself Noooooo! You idiot! But that day my inner idiot was driving.

It was almost funny though. Our hearts just weren't into it, the break-up that is. I walked out of her house feeling totally numb. I had thought I would feel, I don't know, relieved maybe, or free. Free of worrying that perhaps I could have a future. But I just wandered around for ages feeling more and more sorry for myself and the idiot that I had just become. It began to rain really suddenly I remember. And I just carried on walking, getting increasingly self-indulgent in my misery and liking the fact that the rain was making me look as pathetic to the outside world as I felt on the inside. And when I eventually made it back to her door I had exhausted any ounce of integrity and self-respect I had left.

She opened it, her face looking blotchy like she had been crying. The proud and insecure part of me was a little bit pleased about this.

"I'm sorry," I began. "I'm an asshole. I don't want to break-up with you. I'm just…"

And she pulled my drenched self inside and hugged me so tightly that I thought I could just die right there. "Yeah, you are," she agreed, pulling back to look at me and run her hand through my soaked hair. She laughed as she examined my less then immaculate appearance.

"Sorry," I said sheepishly.

She shook her head, smiling, so damn beautiful. "Don't do that again," she warned, pulling me in for the obligatory make-up make-out.

And with that realization that I really did want to be with her, properly, not just out of convenience, it was decided by both of us that I would move with her.

It's not like I was leaving anything behind. My crappy popcorn job at the theater, which I have now traded-in for an equally crappy waitressing job at Ritzy's Roadside Diner, my borderline alcoholic mother, none of it would be missed. But a life without Paige, to go from waking up next to her, talking to her everyday to…nothing. It scared the hell outta me. So I did it. I made the move with her. I got a job and, after much consideration, I got my own fleapit apartment. She wanted to live on campus, I got it. We needed some sort of independence from each other. But, in reality, I was pretty much always there. My room just didn't cut it for Paige, dripping taps, temperamental heating, "predatory spiders" – not my words.

So I hung out with her most nights. And her friends, who seemed surprisingly very cool. As far as I could work out, university seemed a lot like high school, but with way more alcohol and a lot less teacher-student moralizing.

It all sounds just too damn peachy. Yet, back to now, me staring at the ceiling, fearful about god-knows what. I look to my right, Paige is all curled up on her side and asleep next to me. I don't like it. I don't like just staring at her back, like even in sleep she's capable of ignoring me. I gently stroke her hair, willing the contact to make her turn over. But she doesn't.

So I huddle in really close, spooning her and lightly kiss her naked shoulder. This has the desired effect as she stirs. I'm a bad girlfriend. I can't sleep so I'm going to wake up my girlfriend. This is not nice. And still I continue, wrapping my arms around her waist from behind and pulling her towards me.

"Mmpff…" she makes some unintelligible sleep-ladden noise as she turns in my arms. I'm back to lying on my back with Paige lying in the crook of my arm. I rhythmically move my free hand slowly up and down her back. "Mmm…sleepy…" she mumbles into my neck, misunderstanding my current need.

So I stop touching her and just continue to lay there, now feeling tired, anxious and slightly turned on.

Someone gives a whoop from just beyond the window, sounding like they're catching a frisbee or something and a couple of others laugh loudly which causes Paige to groan. As she does she shifts her weight a little bit off me so I stretch out my legs and point my toes and put my hands behind my head.

I can feel her hand running down my ribcage as I do and it's almost enough to stop the fear dead in its tracks.

I exhale loudly, lamely trying to work away some of the tension.

"Alex," she looks at me now, her voice thick with sleep, her eyes slightly bemused. "You're being very wriggly."

"Sorry," I mutter, afraid she might ask me what's wrong. What do I say to that? Well, I'm worried because everything seems to be going a little too smoothly right now. But she looks ready to fall back asleep as she drops her head to my chest and drapes her arm around me.

I start running my fingers idly through her hair again, hoping if I could just keep my eyes closed long enough, my brain would just give in.

She starts to trail her fingers lightly over my stomach and I'm instantly awake again.

"Y'knoooow…" she drawls sleepily as her ministrations continue.

"Mmm?" I raise my eyebrows and my hips slightly, expectantly.

"I saw this really nice pair of shoes yesterday."

"Uh-huh," I begin, then realize that this conversation is in no way going to end in sex. For a moment I'm annoyed. "I thought you said you were broke for the rest of the month."

"Yeah," Paige yawns as she ceases to massage my belly and moves her head from off my chest. "But they were really really nice."

"Right," I say as she settles down next to me again, but this time her legs are entwined with mine.

"Mmm…and strappy," she mumbles into my shoulder as her eyes close in perfect contentment.

I'm left blinking at the ceiling again. "Paige?" I whisper.

She makes a strange noise that could just be an unconscious reaction to her name than a realization that I'm seeking her attention.

"Paige?" I say a bit louder, but it sounds too loud and too harsh in this room.

She involuntarily drags her eyelids open. "What is it hun?" She lazily traces along my jaw line with her finger. "Go back to sleep."

"I can't. I can't sleep. I'm – I'm worried ….or something."

"Worried?" She replies.

"Or something…"

She raises herself up onto her elbow with a yawn, doing her best to indulge my paranoid android routine. "Why you worried?"

"I, well," yes this was not my brightest idea, to awaken my hungover girlfriend and engage her in inarticulate conversation. "I'm not sure. It just feels…"

"What?" Now she was listening.

"Do you ever feel like everything's going too well and sooner or later something is gonna happen to screw it all up."

Paige looks at me confused, shakes her head, "no."

"Oh."

"Alex, I'm kidding. Yeah, sure I feel like that sometimes. I bet everyone does sometimes. But, y'know, that can be a good thing."

"It can. And how's that?"

"Well, it makes you appreciate how good you've got it for starters." She says this half smiling at me, like she's pretending to be cocky, but is really being sweet.

"Oh, yeah, I know how good I've got it," I say, already inwardly relaxing.

"Do you now?" she asks playfully rolling on top of me.

"Mm-hmm." Yeah, now I'm smiling.

"Do you realize how patient and caring your girlfriend is to endure your paranoid freakouts when she herself is recovering from a date with a brewery?"

I'm still smiling as she kisses me.

"And do you realize that if you didn't spend half the night getting stoned with my friends you might possibly not be feeling like this now?"

"Oh, I kinda like what I'm feeling right now," I tease her as my arms wrap around her.

We kiss again, and with it everything dissolves, my insecurities, my unrest, my fears for the future.

"I reckon I'm the one who's got it good," Paige whispers as her face looms over mine, her eyes totally on me.

I have to smile. I can't help myself. Whatever anxiety tries to eat away at me, she can disperse it. With one look or one kiss. I mean, come on, that's pretty amazing. That's pretty un-fucking-believable.

So the kissing hasn't stopped. "But Paige, I thought you were tired," I say in mock-concern.

"Shhh, no more talking."

So I stop talking. And thinking. And just love her.