Jacob Seed x Reader

Sixteen

What the fuck was going on?

He didn't knew why, but in this very moment, Jacob felt strange. His heartbeat fastened, his breath hitched and he wanted to gasp for air.

Was he nervous?

No, no this couldn't be. His feeling never controlled him, he wasn't nervous, not ever since he had made it out of this fucking desert alive.

But his heart was beating different than usual. He knew that. He felt it in his chest, like a hammer that was smashing against his rib cage. He was excited. Yes, it must have been excitement.

Or was it surprise?

"Jacob.", you called his name again, noticing the thoughts that chased through his eyes.

He blinked, raising his eyebrows slightly.

So he was indeed surprised, you thought.

He seemed like meeting you here was the last thing he had expected.

He swallowed, suppressing the urge to smirk at you. Somehow, the sound of his name out of your mouth made him want to smile. He liked the way it sounded. He liked his you called him, so little fear, but so much desire to make him notice you.

When was the last time he had felt like this when hearing his name?

He couldn't remember.

"Pup.", how fucking excited he sounded.

He hated it.

You curled your lips, gifting him a soft smile before looking like an empty shell again.

You felt like shit. The air was burning in your lungs and it felt like your leg was about to fall of. The pain inside your knee had grown again, now that the adrenalin was slowly fading off.

It was painfully uncomfortable to put pressure on it, so you just stood there, one leg a bit into the air while the other had to hold all the weight that was pressing onto your shoulders.

You felt tired.

At that moment, nothing mattered no more.

Jacob came closer, so close, that he felt the need to reach out and wipe some dirt off your cheek.

"Had a nice stroll?", he asked and examined you from top to bottom. "You look like shit."

You huffed.

"I feel like shit.", you admitted and let your forehead fall against his chest. "Jacob... May I ask you a question... before you take me back again?"

For a moment, he just stared at the back of your head. He noticed how he liked the colour of your hair.

(H/C) hair.

For some reason, he wanted to let his fingers run through them. But he held himself back, grasping the handle of the knife even hard, until his knuckles turned white.

"One question.", he said, standing still like a stature carved from stone.

You took a deep, shaky breath. Somehow, even that felt exhausting. Your lips were as dry as a desert. You wanted to drink something, but the river was out of reach now and he would probably not be nice enough to offer you a glass of water after returning to the camp.

"What made you... what made you be this... this calm... while killing?", every word burned on your tongue.

It was as if speaking came with a cost that made you crave a drop of water like a fish in dry land.

Below you, you could feel him move.

Slowly, he loosened the grip around the knife and pushed it back into the holster on his leg.

Your eyes followed his movement and your fingers twitched, wanting to grab the weapon.

But before you could do anything, his long fingers wrapped around your hand, covering it entirely.

You chuckled again, amused this time.

"God, you have hands like a bear, mountain man.", you joked, almost falling to the ground. "Ha. Can you kill with only those? I'm curious..."

Your legs were as weak as they were never before. An exhausted sigh escaped your broken lips as you lose all feeling in them and sunk to the ground.

Little pieces of glass dug into the soft skin of your tights, causing the feeling of thousand needles inside your flesh.

Slowly, Jacob kneeled next to you. His blue eyes wandered over your body.

"Only one question, I said.", with surprising gentleness, he began to check your legs, pulling out a few of the glass pieces that were stuck. "Which one should I answer?"

Already halfway taken by the darkness, you laughed again.

"The... the second one.", you grinned at him, obviously not master of your own senses no more.

He stopped in his motion, his eyes jumped up to your face to check if you were joking. But he couldn't find a clear answer.

There was this smile on your face that he couldn't quite read. It was the smile of an exhausted person that was drunk with pain and helplessness. At this point, everything was just a joke to you.

But at the same time, you really wanted to know the answer. He could see it in those half closed eyes of yours.
(E/C) eyes.

He noticed, how your eye colour matched the (H/C) of your hair. Somehow, he liked it.

"I can.", he finally said. "And I did."

Satisfied, the smile on your lips broadened and you nodded, as if approving the answer.

He wanted to tend to your legs again, finding the conversation had ended.

But you quickly grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

He looked at you again. His lips did not move, but the way he was looking at you was demanding. He wasn't asking a question, but he wanted an answer.

You found it strange, but he was surpassingly easy to read now. At least his facial expressions.

"The... the glass... It's not the main problem.", you tried to moisten your lips with your tongue. "My... my knee... I think it's dislocated."

Quickly, he glanced at the knee and back at you again.

"Is a frightened person telling me this? Or a nurse?"

For a second, you were stunned. Then a short snort escaped you.

"Holy shit, you remembered?"

He nodded.

"Sure."

"My god, I wouldn't have expected you to be a man for details."

He rolled his eyes, slightly squeezing your leg so that a sharp pain made you forget the jokes.

"I'm serious. Who's telling me?", he asked.

You flinched.

"The nurse.", you said. "I'm serious, it's probably dislocated."