Butterfly Kisses | Jack Hughes

Twenty Four

Kidnapping Me, Hughes?

Jack has his chin tilted up toward me as I climb on his lap, straddling his legs with both palms flat against his chest, supporting myself. He doesn't say a word, doesn't object to me being on top of him, doesn't try to stop me. He watches me carefully, taking in every breath, every small movement and committing it to memory.

I have no idea what time it is, but judging by how the sun is only just staring to peek through the curtains of Jack's bedroom, my guess is sometime in the earliest hours of morning.

I'm dead tired and my body feels exhausted and heavy, but that doesn't stop my heart from racing uncontrollably as he grips lightly at my hips, fingertips digging into my skin as his touch lights my whole body on fire. I've never felt so much need for somebody in my entire life.

He's got this tiny pout on his lips that I find myself silently obsessive over, and in a moment of weakness, I kiss him gently on the lips, watching his mouth go from a frown to a shy smile almost instantly. Shaking his head incredulously, Jack lets out a breathy laugh.

"This is going to sound insanely stupid," he begins to speak, brushing his nose to mine. I feel my heart do a backflip as my breath hitches at his sudden burst of affection. "But I swear you were made just for me."

I shake my head in disbelief or denial or misunderstanding, scrunching my eyes closed tight. "Maybe, we were made for each other."

Jack snorts playfully, biting back a smile. "We are disgustingly cute, do you realise that?"

I feel like my whole chest might burst as I wrap both arms around his neck, pulling my body as close to his as it can go. "Will you kiss me?"

Jack cups the back of my neck without any further convincing, bringing out lips together, but I pull away with a frown. "Lyla, how can I kiss you if—"

"I didn't mean there," I whisper, glancing down at him with pleading eyes, begging that he'll know I'm serious, and that it's okay.

Jack seems to stop functioning all together, coming to a complete stop as he blinks at me once, his eyes wide and his lips parted. "Y-you want me to—"

Staring at him dead on, I nod, and say: "Yes, please."

I don't think I've ever seen Jack nervous until this very moment, but right now, I wouldn't have even picked he was the same Jack. Clearing his throat, he half coughs as he digests my words. "Babe, when I said I'll wait until you're ready, I meant it, I didn't mean tonight."

"I know," I nod, sure as anything.

Jack sighs, brushing his knuckles over my cheek daintily. "I don't want you thinking I'm just like him."

Scoffing, I shuffle away from him. "You are nothing like him, and that's why I'm asking for this, why do you never want this? Is it because of me? Do you just not want me?"

Jack glares at me like I've just said the dumbest thing he's ever heard. "I want you more than I've ever wanted anyone or anything in my entire life, Lyla."

Whining, I sit on my knees, pouting up at him in hopes of changing his mind. "Then listen to me, I wouldn't ask if I didn't want it."

Jack fidgets slightly in his place, seemingly contemplating, then he's staring at me like he's never been more serious, and before I know it, he's pushing me down by my shoulders until his hands slide down my body and settle on my waist. In the space of a heart beat, I'm lying on my back, my hair around me in messy tangles, my chest heaving as Jack and I take a moment to do nothing but stare right into each others eyes.