hands off my heart || n.h au

s i x

"Happy holidays, Jena," Ellie wishes as she switches the sign on the door from 'yes, we're open' to 'sorry, we're closed'. She insisted on staying until closing even though Jena had assured her that she had everything covered. Her mum was right. She could definitely trust Ellie to look after the shop if she were to join her parents on their vacation — not that it matters now because Bread & Butter is finally closing for the holiday. "I'll see you after the break?"

Jena nods, smiling. "Happy holidays, Ellie. Have fun."

As soon as Ellie has left the shop, Jena allows herself to slump on the nearest chair, exhaustion flooding out of her, pooling at her feet. She woke up this morning feeling like she had swallowed glass while she's asleep, her head clogged with pressure. By noon she thought she'd willed it away, but now she's starting to think that she's wrong. Her throat has started to sting again and her chest feels heavy — even breathing feels like a chore to her.

Lying her head down on the cold surface of the table, Jena closes her eyes and tells herself that she's not getting sick. Her body is probably reacting to the lack of sleep, the exhaustion and the conversation she had with Niall a couple of days ago.

Before her mind can replay the conversation again, Jena's phone buzzes on the table next to her head, snagging her attention. Her mum has sent her a picture of the view from her room along with the caption: are you sure you don't want to wake up to this view?

Lips curving, Jena shakes her head at her mum's attempt to get her to fly out to Tenerife.

Jena: You're mean.

Mum: it's not too late for you to jump on the plane and spend your Christmas here with us. We'll pay for the ticket, don't worry about it

Jena looks at the picture again, her resolve slowly crumbling. 

It's a spectacular view — the kind that takes your breath away because it just seems unreal. She can see palm trees dotting the edge of the picture, their branches blown by the wind, and a sea so blue Jena finds it hard to believe that such a place exists.

Every fibre of her being wants to be there. She wants to feel the wind in her hair, the sun on her skin and she wants to feel whole even for just a minute. If she closes her eyes, she can easily see herself there. She can feel the sand between her toes, the sun warming her skin and the sea salt wrapping her senses.

When she opens her eyes and finds herself back in the empty bakery, disappointment hangs over her. She's beginning to think that she's an idiot for turning down her parents' offer to spend Christmas with them.

But before those thoughts can take root in her mind, pushing her off the edge where she finally caves and gives in to the temptation, Rowan walks into the shop.

"Hey. You ready to leave?" Her best friend asks. "Andrew's already at the pub."

When Rowan found out that she had no plans after closing the bakery this evening aside from going home and relaxing in front of her television, she suggested they go out for drinks to celebrate the end of the busy weeks she's had. Jena didn't think a celebration is necessary but once Rowan has set her mind on something, it's hard to convince her otherwise. Besides, maybe Jena will feel better after she's had some drinks in her system.

"Yeah," Jena answers, ignoring the fire in her throat. She types a quick 'miss you x' to her mum and slips her phone into the back pocket of her jeans. "Let me grab my bag."

Jena disappears into the backroom to grab her things and once she's back at the front of the shop, she catches Rowan frowning at her. "What?"

"Are you okay?" She asks, voice tinged with concern, as she moves closer to her. "Don't get me wrong but you don't look so good."