It's close to two in the morning when she calls you.

Your right hand is buried somewhere in the confines of the big, oversized bowl of buttered popcorn you had made yourself earlier, so you use your left hand to grasp your vibrating mobile device, and hitting the green TALK button, hold it up to your ear.

"Yellow?" You answer with a color, because it's this new phase you're going through. It'll pass, just like the phase you had when you answered the phone in different languages. Three years of French weren't going to waste.

"Jade?" Her voice is barely above a whisper, and it sounds frightened, weak.

Tearing your gaze away from your television that was currently flashing gruesome displays of death in front of you, and ripping your other hand out of the popcorn bowl, your eyebrows knit over your nose. "Cat, what's wrong?"

She doesn't respond as quickly as you would've liked her to, and for a brief second, a shot of panic races to your heart, and you're already jumping off your bed, dashing for your closet to throw on a hoodie and some sneakers since you're clad in nothing but your Nightmare Before Christmas pajamas.

But when she does reply, you loosen up, and your fingers hover over the doorknob to your closet door.

"Um, n-nothing really. I … I just-"

"You what? Spit it out, Cat." You've never been one to tolerate stuttering and stalling, and now was no exception, especially when she had you freaking out over here.

"I had a bad dream."

The adrenaline pumping in your heart seems to slow, and with a sigh of relief bubbling out of your lungs, you run your free hand through your wild mess of thick tar black hair.

Part of you is comforted, grateful that nothing severe had happened, that Cat wasn't in danger or on the brink of death. But then the other half of you is stringing a million curse words, not only because Cat just scared the crap out of you, but because she's making you miss your movie. You forgot to press pause.

"Jesus, Cat, I thought it was something serious."

"It is serious," She insists, and you don't have to see her, you know she's pouting. "It was really, really scary, Jade. There was this man, and he had on a black cloak like Dracula or something, and he was coming toward me with a knife. And he … and he told me how he was going to skin me alive and … and I was scared, Jade."

She whispers the last part, and by then you're already back in bed, popcorn bowl tossed aside, the television silent and blank.

"Well, it's not real," You're not exactly sure how to comfort her, so your words come out sarcastic and mean. You imagine her face, chocolaty eyes fragile and watery, locks of hair the color of blood falling down her shoulders, lips pressed tight. Your ribcage expands at the thought of her, and you're lying on your stomach to try and silence the feeling. "Don't worry, go to sleep. Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"You sound like my mom."

"Speak of the devil, why don't you go bother her with all this bad dream stuff?"

Cat doesn't respond right away again, but this time you just wait patiently and dangle your feet in the air for amusement. When a minute passes by, you quickly pull your phone away from your ear just in case she had hung up or the call had been dropped. But no, she was still on the line, and so were you.

And then, like someone knocked the wind out of her, she murmurs, "Am I bothering you, Jade?"

Normally, you wouldn't care. Normally, when Cat is upset, when you accidentally (or purposely) hurt her feelings, you would just wave it away like you do whenever Sinjin comes to you with one of his cheesy pickup lines. Normally, you would just swiftly blurt out a half-hearted apology and forget about it.

But this isn't like all those other times. Somehow, this time it's different, and this time, you realize, that you've genuinely hurt Cat. She came to you, all innocent and naïve and sweet, with her red hair and big eyes, looking for some security within you, and you shrugged her off like some kind of jerk.

Normally you would feel no remorse, but now you just feel like shit.

"No, no, you're not," You sit up, hair falling into your eyes, and you push it away, tuck it behind your ear. "I'm really sorry, Cat. I didn't mean to sound so … well, mean."

"It's alright." She says, but you know it's not.

It's not okay that you treat her like she's some kind of kid (even though she may act like one on a day-to-day basis). It's not okay that you can hurt her like that and get away with it. It's not okay, and suddenly, you're determined to do some serious damage control.

"I'm … I'm, uh, going to make it up to you. I promise."

"How?" She questions.

"Well, what do you want me to do?"

Cat's silent, again, and you're thinking that maybe asking someone with the imagination of a five year old what they want from you isn't the best idea, and you're about to take back what you said and rephrase it.

Then that's when she yells, "Sleepover!" and you know that you're doomed.

Her sheets are pink; hot pink with flowers, stars, rainbows and happiness sprinkled all over them. It makes you queasy, but you're toughing it out for her.

"You're hurting my elbow."

"Oh, sorry," Cat giggles childishly and scoots backwards a little, creating some space between you and her on her mattress. "Better?"

There are glow-in-the-dark star stickers dotted all over her ceiling and walls, and there are a collection of dolls sitting primly on a shelf above you, and they're all smiling at you eerily.

Just one night, this is only for tonight. You chant to yourself over and over, your little motto to get you through it.

"Yeah," You nod, and stretch your legs out, but then your knees bump into hers, warm skin grazing warm skin, and she's giggling all over again.

Arching a brow, you say, "Why are you laughing so much?"

"I'm happy."

"And I'm happy that you're happy."

"You make me happy, Jade."

It's dark, but the moonlight filtering in from her window makes her eyes look wide and shiny, and they're trained right at you. You bite the inside of your cheek, and you swallow, suddenly feeling that maybe her bed is too small for the both of you.

"That's … nice."

"Do I make you happy?" She's touching you now, her fingertips are cold, ice cold as they brush gently along your own, and you don't mean to, but you flinch slightly.

"In a way, maybe." You pull back from her, your heart beating the blood in your ears so loud that you can barely hear yourself. Yes, the bed is definitely too small.

Cat keeps moving closer. Inching her way forward, closing in the little space between the two of you. She's backing you into a corner that's not even there.

She's also saying something, too. Something about baking cookies with her brother and how he accidentally cut off his thumb, but you're not listening; your eyes are too focused on the way her lips move.

Cat has always been beautiful. With hair deep and rich and crimson that falls down past her shoulders, brown eyes that are wide and always sparkling with life (be careful you don't fall in), lips curved in the shape of the perfect kiss, skin warm and flushed, and with ears small and so freaking adorable it makes your chest hurt.

Though you would never admit it out loud (or even write it down), for the past few months, you've noticed Cat more than you should have. You've noticed how whenever she walks, she skips, and that her laugh sounds like sleigh bells at Christmas. You've noticed how easy it is to lift her up, and how easy it is to break her down.

You've noticed that you may just be falling in love with her.

You know what's going to happen before she actually does it.

She's done talking, and her bottom lip is stuck in between her teeth. She's not looking you in the eye, but she's focusing solely on your mouth, which is probably a quivering line right now because you're trying your best to keep calm.

You've been here before, in this position. It was the first time you kissed Beck (Yeah, Jade, you have a boyfriend, remember?), and he wouldn't stop looking at your mouth. It had been annoying with him, because the way he stared had been perverted, and the kiss was rushed and hungry.

In your conscious, you're screaming, she's going to kiss you, she's going to kiss you. Jade, get the hell out of there, because she's going to kiss you! But, whether it's by accident or on purpose, your legs don't respond.

There is nothing but silence, like the calm before the storm, so loud in your ears, and then Cat is breathing heavy, and then her fingers are digging into your sides, then she's coming closer, closer.

Her mouth presses into yours, and you don't want to stop it.

You don't want to, so you don't.

You kiss her right back, meshing your lips with hers, and your hands have minds of their own and their snaking through her hair, pushing it back while you press your body closer to her. She's warm, like a blanket, and right then and there you decide that you never want to let her go.

But you have to, though. At some point you do have to breathe.

When you pull apart, your lips feel raw and tingly, but you love it nonetheless. Cat's staring at you, a 'cat-that-just-ate-the-canary' (no pun intended) grin on her face. Her hand is on your thigh.

"You make me happy, Jade." She says.

"You make me happy, Cat." You say, and it isn't a lie. And you're not saying it because you're still making up for being such a jerk to her, or because you're messing with her feelings. You're saying it because you mean it, and because you want her to know that you mean it.

And then she kisses you again, and her lips are the sweetest thing you have ever tasted.

Howdy, partners.

Ali here.

Okay, so I must say that I absolutely ADORE this pairing. I ship it with my life. Cat and Jade are soulmates, all other arguments are invalid. I mean, how could you not want them to be together?

Alright, I'm ranting again. Anyway, I don't really have a song to go with this one. But, reviews are still beautiful, they make me happy.

Haha, see what I did there? No?

Eh, okay.