♥Chapter 53: ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ʜᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇꜱ ʜᴇʀ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛꜱ♥

✿Kennedy✿

My eyes open in the middle of the night with a heavy weight pressing on my chest. Something like a quite heavy sob leaves my mouth nearly wracking me. My hand moves to my side where I know Jake's sleeping figure would be.

My fingers find his arm and I shake it.

Being the light sleeper he is, he wakes up in seconds, stirring around to find me.

"What happened?" His sleepy voice asks.

Tears stream down my face and my throat feels too choked up to reply.

"Kennedy?"

I bring my hand to my mouth to muffle the sobs, but they come out anyway.

"Kennedy?" Jake's voice sounds more alert now.

He's sitting up now and moving the covers away. He pulls me onto his lap, resting my head on his hard chest. "What happened?" He asks softly, pressing a kiss to my head, holding my hand in his.

For some reason, I can't stop crying and the tears just flow down while my mouth makes choked noises of sobs.

"Did you have a nightmare?"

I nod my head.

He wraps his arms around me, holding me tighter. "It's okay, Ken. I'm right here." He kisses the top of my head.

I nuzzle my face into his hoodie, finding comfort from the warmth of his body.

A few minutes pass and Jake keeps on holding me, rocking back and forth gently while whispering calming words.

"Are you alright?" He asks after I finally quiet down.

I give a nod, gulping.

He wipes my remaining tears with the pad of his thumb.

"Wanna talk about it?" He asks, even though already knowing the answer.

Of course, I wanna talk to Jake. I always tell him stuff, even if it is unnecessary.

Not everything. A voice at the back of my head echoes.

I ignore it.

"I had a nightmare," I tell him.

He remains silent as if he's waiting for something.

What is he waiting for though?

After a few seconds, a resigned sigh comes out of his lips. He speaks up. "Yeah? What happened?"

"I had a dream about my parents." My voice hushes down to a whisper as a feeling of deep sadness weighs on my chest. Jake notices that and brings his hand up to caress my hair soothingly.

"What about them?"

"We were in the backyard of my home in California. I was small and my dad was telling me how I'd take over the world one day. He always told me that before he—" With a struggle I say the next word, "died. In my dream, he said the same thing."

"Oh, so he's the one who put that thing in your head?"

"What?"

He shakes his head. "Nothing. Continue."

"He was telling me that despite what disease or illness I have; I can still make a difference to the world and that what I had shouldn't be seen as a bad thing." Tears fill my eyes again, but I force myself not to cry again. "He was always so cheery and supportive. My mom was the scariest. Not always though. She just switches up really fast. She always told me to be kind and nice to everyone, even if they do me wrong. She said that's the way to guilt bad people up."

Jake says nothing but I know he's listening to me. So I continue.

"In my dream, I saw my parents dying again. Right after my dad said that I'd take over the world. But it was much more horrible, Jake." A tight feeling closes around my throat. I try to gulp it down. "They were dying right in front of me. Their bodies were slowly weakening, and they were on their knees like some kind of sickness was killing them. And my five-year-old self was watching that. They were trying to appear brave and unaffected in front of me, but then suddenly they were screaming for it to stop."

I stop abruptly, not wanting to freshen the dream in my head again.

I shake my head, burrowing my face against Jake's neck. "It was horrible." I finish it at that.

His fingers continue caressing my hair lightly and suddenly a tiny fear blooms within me. What if my hair comes off in his fingers?

He's gonna get super panicked and more worried.

It's already hard to keep him from worrying twenty-four/seven. He fears this cancer more than I and sometimes it makes me hesitant to open up to him about any pain or something.

He already treats me like this delicate flower. God knows what else he will do?

Sometimes I wish he could be a little more understanding and accepting about my having cancer. But I see the fear spark in his eyes whenever I let out the tiniest coughs, or even place my hand on my forehead.

He's not ready to accept it and it makes me scared about what's gonna happen if anything happens to me.

I don't want to hide anything from him, but I don't want him to get panicky and worried too.

I take his hand that was caressing my hair, praying that it seemed like a casual gesture, and hold it in mine.

"I'm sorry you got scared. Your parents loved you, Ken." Jake starts and presses a kiss on my forehead. "This nightmare isn't real. Your parents are in a happy place right now."

A small smile comes to my face. "Yeah?"

He nods. "Yeah. I love you."

"I love you too."

"Also Ken?" Jake says.

"Yeah?"

"I finally know that it was your dad who said that you're gonna take over the world. And it's a really motivating thing to say." He says. "But...I don't think he meant that it should have involved knives and murder."

I give him a confused look. "Then what else could he have meant?"

"Well..." He finds it hard to find the words. "You know? He meant it as..."

"As what?" I ask.

"As..."

He looks at my face.

Studies it.

Then shakes his head as if re-deciding his decision.

"Nothing. I take it back. He meant exactly that."

I give him a weird look. "You're weird."

"Well, it is two in the night."

"Right. Sorry about this." I give him an apologetic smile.

"What the fuck are you sorry for?" He frowns at me. He grips my chin and presses a hard kiss on my mouth. "Take it back."

A chuckle comes out of my mouth. "Okay, I take it back."

"Don't ever be sorry." He says. "Got that?"

I nod.

"Good. Let's go back to sleep now?"

I stare at him.

He stares back at me.

A huge heavy sigh comes out of his mouth.

"Right." He rubs his forehead with his fingers. "You don't go back to sleep once you wake up in the middle of the night."

"Yup."

"And now you're gonna talk my fucking ear off."

"Also correct." I nod.

"Gotta get all the coffee ready for the morning then." He sighs.

A small laugh comes out of my mouth.

"We should have a sleepover," I tell him.

He frowns at me. "We sleep together every night."

"Yeah but we don't pillow fight, or binge movies, gossip, paint each other's toenails, put on facemasks—"

"Oh hell Nah." Jake stops me with a horrified look. "I've seen Toothy put on her face masks. Scared the shit out of me. And then I had to pray to God to save my fucking life."

My face twists in confusion. "Why?"

"I slapped her thinking she was someone else."

My eyes widen in horror. "You sure you're still alive? This isn't your ghost sitting in front of me, right?"

Jake winces as if he's reliving the memory in his head. "Let's not fucking talk about it."

I nod in agreement.

"Now what?" I ask.

"I'm going to sleep," Jake announces, placing his hands on my waist and sliding me off his lap. "You can bother Gabriel."

"But Gabriel said he'll block me if I text him at night." I protest.

"You can use my phone if he does." Jake waves me off, pulling the covers over his shoulder and lying down.

I give him a blank look for a while before my eyes narrow.

I stare at his face for five seconds.

And another five seconds.

And another five seconds.

And another five seconds.

My finger raises to poke his cheek.

He ignores me.

I poke him again.

He ignores me again.

"Jake," I whisper, suddenly scared to raise my voice out loud in the dark.

"Jake." I place my hand on his shoulder.

"Jake. I'm scared." I whisper with a more urgent tone.

His hands shoot out and grab me. I squeal. He pulls me under the covers, shoving my face to his chest and wraps his arms around me.

"Oh mama." I breathe out.

He didn't even open his eyes.

I raise my head to look at his beautiful, chiselled face. His dark lashes brush the tops of his cheeks.

Wiggle your body.

What?

Just do it.

I wiggle my body.

Jake's eyelids open to reveal those beautiful turquoises and he frowns down at me. "What are you doing?"

I shrug. "I don't know. Just felt like it."

He stares at me for a while before letting his eyes fall shut again.

Wiggle your body.

What?

Do it again.

I wiggle my body again.

Jake opens his eyes again but this time with a bored, sleepy, look.

He stares at me with the same look.

"Fine. Let's fucking talk." He finally says.

A grin spreads on my face. "Yay!"

A sigh comes out of his mouth.

I scoot up a little further to be eye to eye with Jake. His hand comes to rest lightly on my waist.

"Hi, I'm Kennedy." I smile.

"And you like warm hugs?" He asks.

"The warmest." I nod, smiling. "How are you?"

"Sleepy." He answers.

"Too bad." I mock him. "I ain't letting you go to sleep."

"You ain't letting me go anywhere, baby."

"What?"

"Nothing." He shakes his head.

I look into his eyes, taking in the swirly mix of colours; blue and green. His long lashes brush his cheek when he blinks. A few fading spots scatter his cheekbones and forehead that might have been freckles or something. I mean it could have also been acne and pimples.

An image of a juicy pimple comes to my head.

A laugh escapes my mouth.

Jake's fingers come over my mouth, tracing the shape of my lips. "Why are you laughing?"

"Imagine someone having a huge pulpy pimple."

He frowns deeply at me with a face that said his everyday vocabulary 'what the bleep?'. "Where do you get these thoughts from, Kennedy?"

I shrug. "I don't know. They just appear out of nowhere. Sorry."

He continues tracing my lips with his thumb. "Don't be fucking sorry, Ken. I love your thoughts." He pauses. "Most of them."

"What's your favourite thought of mine?" I ask.

"When you're thinking about me." He answers without hesitance.

"Then you must love my thoughts ninety-five percent of the time," I reply.

"I do."

"Tell me about your mom." My mouth speaks before I can even comprehend what I was gonna ask.

Jake's face suddenly closes off with a dark expressionless face as if I asked him to kill a puppy.

But I wanted to know about his mom.

He once told me that she was like me. Also, she was my dad's best friend before he moved to California away from Alex and her.

Amelia Knight.

"Let's not talk about her," Jake says grimly.

"Alex said she had been diagnosed with cancer." I continue. "Just like me—"

He jerks up into a sitting position, his face showing expressions of rage that he's trying to conceal. "I said don't talk about her."

"Jake, I'm sor—" I start to apologize but he cuts me off.

He gets down from the bed and without even glancing at me, he walks out of the room and slams the door shut behind him.

I stare at the place where he had last been.

My heart slowly sinks into a darker place.

✄ ✄ ✄ ✄

QUESTION: How old do you people think I am?

I genuinely wanna know your answer to that ^

Also for Jake, don't worry we'll finally get there with him. He has to open up someday now, doesn't he?

Words: 2,000

Date of publishing: 15th June 2022