𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑! [𝐉𝐉 𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐊]

chapter twelve.

CRUEL SUMMER!
chapter twelve.

( how do you effectively hold onto something that you don't want other people to see in your hands? )

The summer before I turned fifteen was the first time in my life that I'd truly become aware of my surroundings. Specifically, the nicely furnished cage that I'd been living in. The labyrinth. I don't know exactly what made me realize it. I just know that before that summer, I had been indifferent to most of my experiences. Lackadaisical to aspects of my life that felt like I had lived through them on auto-pilot. Like these moments I'd simply witness hadn't been my own.

Don't get me wrong, I've never liked it here. I've never liked the false appearances or the endless heat or the idea of fitting into the godforsaken mold— but during that specific summer, I became deadly aware of just how much I hated it. I realized then that what I really wanted was to get out. And in these abrupt, unexpected bouts of repressed realization, somehow it manifested into something physical. A painful restlessness that harbored in my chest. It felt like it was my body's way of protesting.

Obviously, I never told anyone about it. No matter how painful the spontaneous sinking aches in my chest became or how furiously my hands would begin to tremble -  I refused. And I refused to call it what it was, too, despite being fully aware. I wouldn't admit it. Still can't.

I considered how to get rid of it, though, and I thought maybe some safe substance use could be of aid. So, Sarah used her Princess Kook charm to our advantage and easily acquired a spare joint from some hopeless sucker at school. Thinking back on it now, the lousy joint could probably be traced all the way back to The Cut, back to JJ. The notion, that he might be the one responsible for the first and only joint I've ever smoked, is amusing, if a little fond.

It was Sarah's first time smoking as well as mine, that much was plenty apparent. She was nothing but a mess of giggles and poorly fabricated would you rather questions. I spent the better part of the evening humoring her, and while I did find that being under the influence made it easier to let every thought and concern fizzle away into mere background noise - it made no real difference.

I never ended up finding a real solution. But eventually, the episodes of tension and unease went away just as easy as they'd started, and they never came back. So I left it at that.

The toaster goes off, beeping unceremoniously loud amidst the already hectic environment of the chateau. Two nearly-burnt waffles pop out from the top. JJ reaches out and grabs them, much too soon, and hisses quietly at the easily foreseen burn in his hand. I push the plate towards him, silently urging him to drop the hotted breakfast. He quickly obliges.

"You could've waited," I tell him, smirking slightly at the sight of him trying to shake the burn off his hand. "Let me see."

He pouts but complies, lending me his hand to inspect the damage. Luckily, I doubt you can get any degreed burn from a waffle, so despite the slight redness to his fingertips he appears to be fine.

"What's the verdict, doctor?" He asks, his hand nestled comfortably in my grasp. He's biting back a smile, his injured hand seemingly entirely forgotten now that he finds himself in this situation, suddenly much too satisfied by it.

I roll my eyes, looking up to meet his mirthful gaze. It's impossible not to smile back at him. "You'll live."

He grins, stepping closer until his shoes knock against my own. I let go of his hand, trying to remain stoic and indifferent beneath his relentlessly charming eyes.

"I almost just lost a limb making you breakfast, Kaito," he says, a playful, airy lilt to his tone.

A scoff pushes past the inevitable smile on my lips. He's ridiculous, I'm well aware, and I have no idea how he's somehow always able to make it work in his favor.