Heartstrings

Chapter 13: Butterflies

Emma's Perspective

I swung the door to my room back open furiously and glared at Jake who looked at me from the couch with an innocent little smile. He'd been in my room and he'd left a sketch of me in my bed.

- Everything okay Emma?

Jake looked at me with a shit-eating grin and I squinted my eyes, shaking my head at him. But Sam turned in my direction and I immediately corrected my infuriated expression.

- Um. I thought I forgot something. Sorry.

Closing the door gently behind me, I walked back over to my bed, sat down, and let out an exasperated "huff" as I picked up the sketch. "Damnit," I thought, "this is actually really beautiful." As if it wasn't already going to be hard enough to get over the feelings I had for him.

Through the paper, I could tell there was something scrawled on the back, so I flipped it over and found a quote I instantly recognized -

"You have been in every line I have ever read"

It was one of my favorite lines from Great Expectations, and I knew he'd read that part and thought of us. I rubbed my temples. I had really hoped that I'd shut him down enough the other night that I wouldn't have to continue pushing him away.

I crawled into my bed and opened my copy of Great Expectations. I stuck the sketch in there for the time being and laid my head back onto my pillow - my eyes glued themselves to my high ceiling as a long groan escaped my lips.

X

Apparently, the sketch was just the beginning of a blitzkrieg of secretive romantic gestures from Jake.

Monday after school I opened my car door and found the picture Jake's mom had taken of us cuddled up together in his bed as children. It was the very one we'd talked about the night we fell asleep together, and Jake had placed it on the dashboard with a note on the back that quoted what I'd said that night -

"This is better"

I had no clue how he'd even gotten into my car let alone how he'd managed to find the photo - surely it had been buried somewhere in his house for years.

When Tuesday came around, there was a box of my favorite tea sitting on my bookshelf when I got home from school. I opened it hesitantly and noticed Jake's handwriting on the inside of the lid.

"little things that mean the most"

When I got a closer look, I realized he had retagged every single tea bag with a tiny description of something he liked about me.

"Your silver eyes"

"Every single freckle on your nose"

"The way you close your eyes when you play the cello"

"The face you make when you're annoyed with me"

"Your creativity"

There were 50 tea bags and 50 little notes... and I took the time to read each and every single one of them. After the thirtieth one, though, tears began to stream down my cheeks. I'd never felt so... seen or so appreciated by someone. It's as if he paid attention to every single detail about me.

After I finished reading the tags, I carefully put the box in my closet for safe keeping. Confusion clouded my mind and emotional exhaustion began to set in, so I trudged into my bathroom with the intention of soaking in a bath - and low and behold, Jake had been there, too.