bloom // jake kiszka

1.

It was a chilly sunday morning.

Cold enough that when i peeled the cotton blanket from my skin, goosebumps trailed their way through my body, kissing up my arms and sending a shockwave down my spine.

I decided on the thick sweatshirt laying next to the bed to warm my body, Although if i wasn't so tired i could convince myself to be dramatic enough to put on a few layers.

I look over at the bed where Jake lays, sound asleep, hugging the pillow under his head. I can't help the smile that grows upon my lips, it's like an instinct. An unconscious reaction.

He's my best friend. The only one with the interest to know the simple yet intimate details of my brain. The only one who knows me. And I'm the only one who knows him.

I have to admit I've attached myself to the claim it gives me over him. And well...I suppose I've attached myself to him, as well. In a way that would turn my cheeks red if he ever heard me say it out loud.

I breathe a small sigh through my teeth and shake my head, trying to snap out of the familiar feeling that arises in my chest whenever he's around.

After looking at the time and realizing that we both slept in longer than intended, i kneel back onto the bed to wake him up.

I lightly grab his forearm and rub my thumb against his warm skin. "Jake?" I say softly, hoping not to startle him awake.

I keep trying, humming his name. "jaaaakeee...you'll kill me if i don't wake you uuuuup."

When i start lightly shaking his shoulder, his eyes flutter open. I brush the strands of hair away from his face and say "morning sunshine".

He flashes a sleepy smile and croaks out a "morning" burying his face in the pillow and then moving to lay on his back to face me.

"What time is it?" He says, rubbing his eyes. "10:45"

"Damn. How long have you been awake?" He sits up slightly, resting his head against the headboard and furrowing his brow.

"I just woke up, and i knew you wouldn't wanna sleep in any later." He nods. "Tea?" I question.

"Coffee?" He raises, in a teasing tone. I exhale a laugh and roll my eyes, getting up to make my way to the kitchen.

I put the kettle on and start the coffee machine. I zone out as i wait, thinking over yesterday. It was a rainy, muggy day, so me and jake spent most of it curled up on the couch, watching movies and eating junk food.

He comes over quite often, he might as well just move in if I'm honest. It's not like i could ever get sick of his company, or waking up next to him in bed, or, well, him.

I'm startled out of my thoughts by Jake's hand on my shoulder. He chuckles, "you good?" I go wide eyed for a second, knowing i was just thinking about him, then smile and nod.

"I was just thinking" he raises his eyebrow and cocks his head "about...?" He questions.

"Nothing" i hum. "Ok crazy girl, whatever you say." He reaches past me to grab a granola bar from the counter, and i stare, frozen, as his face gets close enough for me to feel his breath on my skin.

Sometimes i swear he does these things on purpose, like he's taunting me. Other times i convince myself he does them because, maybe, his heart beats faster when we get close too.

It's the grazing my hand when we're walking side by side, lightly touching my waist when walking past me, putting his arm around me when we're on the couch kind of touch that I've noticed he saves exclusively for me, like his own little language of connection.

I ruminate on it far more than I'd like to admit. He's like an intrusive thought that i just can't get out of my head.

I look over at him, now propped up on the island, rested on his hands. His long hair is messy and his brown eyes are staring out the window across the room.

I take in his features, drawing out another stint of hopeless admiration, until the kettle starts to scream and i notice that the coffee is done.

I make both our drinks and we settle on the couch, a blanket over both of our laps. We sip in comfortable silence, watching the sun dance through the window as our entertainment.

In this moment, i am content. I wish i could freeze it in a frame and come back to visit whenever i want, not hoarded as a memory in which i can never return.

"Hey" Jake says after a while. "Come here" he begins to reach his left arm up, gesturing that he wants me closer, so i put my half finished cup of tea on the table in front of us and cuddle into his side as he wraps his arm around me.

He rests the side of his face against my head, rubbing circles on my shouder with his thumb.

I wish i had the guts to to tell him what's going through my head. That my heart has belonged to him for as long as i can remember.

But the thought of a chance it could take away moments like these is a burden too heavy for me to ever have the courage to follow through.

I've built up so much resentment towards myself for that, yet I'm so comfortable in this denial i latch onto every time I have to refrain from stepping over the platonic line.

I wanna lace my fingers through his as his hand sits on his lap. Or reach my head up and kiss his lips. Simply, i want to know if he wants it too.

But here we are. In this weird space of inbetween that we've been neck deep in for years. I hate myself for being disappointed, because maybe this should be enough.

But maybe, as we sit here in silence, locked inside our minds and trailing over our own thoughts, it's not just me that feels stuck.