our small piece of serenity ❥ jake jagielski

t w e l v e

      I'm not sure when I started to care about what people thought of me. Growing up, it didn't effect me. I'd wear pajamas to school and think nothing of it, these people wouldn't remember a girl who was only here for a year and then left.

        Right now, I'm overthinking everything. I'm second guessing my clothes, debating on if I should change the way I dress. I'm afraid considering the way girls look at this school, that Jake won't like me because I don't dress like them. I'm second guessing something I said to Jake THREE WEEKS AGO, THREE WEEKS!

       I guess it's because this time around is different, if I like it here who say I have to leave? I'll be 18 by then, and Mom and Dad wouldn't force me to leave. Although considering they've been my only constant my whole life, would I be able to handle life without them in the next room over?

       Not wanting to dwell on something that is happening in three years, I go back to reading. Yet, I can't seem to focus on the words in front of me. Reading line after line, nothing is clicking. I let out a frustrated sigh, throwing my book down when the front door rings.

My parents are both working, so I make my way downstairs and when I see the silhouette of Jake standing outside I practically run the rest of the way to the door.

"Hi! What are you doing here? I thought you were busy today?!" I say practically tackling him in a hug.

"I could get used to this type of greeting," he says into my hair. He gives me a squeeze before giving us some space, but I don't let him go far I loop my arm around his waist. He kisses the top of my head and the butterflies go off in my stomach, "my mom is watching Jenny. I just really wanted to see you," he says and he sounds tired.

Getting a good look at him, he does look sleepy. His eye bags are more pronounced than usual, and his hair looks like he's been running his hands through it all morning.

"Let's head inside," I say trying not to let the worry code my voice. He doesn't fight me when I nudge him in the direction of my living room, "do you need anything? Water? A snack?"

"Can I just hold you?" He says and the way he asks, so innocently, so sleepy that I can't help but smile.

"Are you sure you don't need anything else?" I ask one more time.

"No baby, please. I just want to hold you," he says holding out his hand.

The use of the word baby brings heat to my cheeks but I take his hand giving in to his needs. He pulls us so we're laying down. Our legs are intertwined, and his head is right on my chest. I'm sure he can hear how fast my heart is beating.

"Do you want to talk about anything? Not that I don't love this, but you're kind of scaring me." I say running my hands through his hair.

He lets out a satisfied sigh, before shaking his head no. "No, I just missed you. I'm recharging."

       "God," I groan, squeezing him tighter. "You're so cute."

        He starts rubbing my arm gently, just barely touching. His finger tips are brushing my skin, and the butterflies are so overwhelming that I really doubt he doesn't know exactly what he's doing to me right now.

       "Baby?" He says. And I hum in response. I will never get sick of being called baby, HIS BABY, "thank you for being my calm during the storm." And almost instantly his breathing turns heavy and I know he just fell asleep.

I look down at his sleeping face, not able to help it when I drag my finger gentle across his jaw line. I continue to run my one hand through his hair, and my free hand drawing small circles on his back.

I've never in my life felt this way about anyone before. This wasn't in the cards for coming here, but little does he know he is MY calm in the storm because who was I stressing just ten minutes ago thinking this man wouldn't like me because of my clothes?!