"We fought an uphill battle. One we had no hope of winning."
~~~
Felicity-Flick as most call her-Carter, has learned a thing or two in her 12 years of life. How to deal with drunk parents without waking the neighbors, how to smoke a cigarette withou...
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"I cried all night," I grumbled pathetically when Jackson climbed through my window that afternoon.
"I know," He said, with a shrug. He'd woken me up from a nap seconds earlier by landing his knee square in my stomach on his mission to get in from the fire escape. It hurt, but I didn't have it in me to be mad at him today. I didn't have anything in me today.
After Jacksons' blow-up last night, and that confusing and oddly comforting conversation with Lily this morning, I felt more emotionally drained than I had in a while. I finally got to sleep 2 hours ago. Had to down two and a half Melatonins to get it done, but I needed to sleep pretty bad.
"How'd you know?" I asked, sitting up. I still felt groggy. One earbud still clung to the side of my face, soft music pouring out of it just like it had been when I finally drifted off. He laughed a little. I was glad to see he was over his anger from yesterday. I couldn't handle another explosion of emotion right now.
"Your face still looks like a puffed-up tomato," He teased, poking my cheek. His eyes drifted to the iPod on my lap. "And you only listen to Fleetwood Mac when you're upset." It was a habit I'd picked up from Emmett. Whenever he would have a bad day or something, he would come home, put on Gold Dust Woman and try to forget everything bad while the music played. I started doing the same when he left. It made me feel closer to him then. Now, it just makes me feel a little less hollow.
"Are you okay?" I asked, situating myself against my headboard. Jackson looked at me for a long time. Looking, like studying. Like he was trying to see through my walls of protection, into the soft parts of my heart even he didn't have access to. He used to. A lot of people used to. But then one day, when I was hurting most, I realized how naive it was to let even the most trusted people into the soft parts of your heart. Anyone can hurt you. And given the chance, anyone will.
"I'm fine. Sorry I blew up on you like that." He muttered.
I shook my head quickly. "No. You were right to call me out," We sat in silence for a moment. Not uncomfortable silence, but quiet. The kind of quiet that makes you think about what the other person is thinking about. And I wished I knew. "I'm going, if that makes you feel better."
He looked up at me with those crystal blue eyes I loved so much, and all I saw was hope. Hope for me. Hope for my future. "It does," He said with a soft grin. "It does."
Before I could say anything else, Jackson practically threw himself at me, wrapping his arms around my neck so tightly I thought he may choke me to death. And somehow, I didn't mind. We stayed like that for a while. Just holding each other like our lives depended on it. Maybe they did. Sometimes I wonder if I would still be alive without Jackson. If I would have any reason to be. A knock on my door made us break apart, but I just rolled my eyes and repeated the same phrase I had been for the last five days.
"Go away," I layed back on my bed, Jackson doing the same beside me.
