Home is You

Chapter 5. What am I to you?

AN: This one is me 😎

JJ sits behind the door of the chateau bathroom, with a tight constricting feeling grabbing his neck. It was all coming too fast. John B and Sarah are dead, Pope is pissed at him for kissing Kiara, Kiara is...Kiara. It's just too much to handle right now.

He slams his head back against the door in a poor attempt at grounding himself, and looks around, and trying to find something get the air flowing. God, it's stuffy in here.

The bathroom was tiny. Barely could fit a single person in it if they weren't standing in the shower or sitting on the toilet, and the longer he sits the more claustrophobic he feels.

He mumbles to himself as he climbs up from the floor, hands reaching for the single window in the space. Of course, it's painted shut. Just like every other room in this old ass house. He doesn't have time to continuing working at it, and unlocks the door and swing it open wide as he runs through the house, heading for the yard.

Kiara is standing in the living room and whips around when she hears the door slam against the wall. "What's wrong?" she says, all concerned and what not.

"Nothing," he sharply replies as he breaks the threshold of the porch. Once outside he doubles over, hands on his knees as he takes in large gulps of air the best he can. How can it feel like he's not getting enough but drowning in it at the same time?

"Hey," Kiara says softly, recognizing that he's freaking out. "Hey, it's alright." He feels her hand on his shoulder and for a second he lets himself pretend to give into it. Imagines what it would be like to let her comfort him like she did when they got the news that the Phantom went down. Like she did when he broke down for the thousandth time since.

Let's himself remember what it was like to hold her back. To keep her close and feel her lips against his. A feeling he only allowed himself to imagine, but never thought would actually happen. It was everything and more.

But that doesn't matter, now.

"Stop, Kie," he says, pushing her hand away.

She backs away, startled by his response. He hates the look of hurt on her face.

"What?"

"Just stop, alright," he repeats, taking a deep breath. "Stop acting like there's more to this than there is."

"What's that supposed to mean," she snaps back.

"We're not together, alright," he huffs out.

"Why not?" she asks, feelings a wave of humiliation that she even has to ask that question. When someone says "we're not together" it's because they don't want to be. But he told her he loved her. She said it back. That meant something, didn't it?

JJ appears to be at a loss for words, mind openly sputtering as he tries to think of a response for her inquiry. He bites his lip, still pacing in the front yard.

"JJ, you're scaring me," she softens. She doesn't like that he's getting this worked up. He's still kinda drunk, panicking, and really pushing her away. None of those are good things.

He shakes his head like she doesn't get it, like she doesn't want to get it and it's annoying him. "I'm fine," he says, stopping in front of her. His sudden stillness throws her off as he looks her square in the eye to tell her, "Just, we can't do this. And I think you know that."

"I don't, I don't get why you're pushing me away," she says, blinking back tears, forbidding them to fall.

Because he's from deep in the Cut and she was born in Figure Eight. Because she had two parents that she fought with because they loved her too much and he had two that hated him. Because she used words and he used fists. Because she was the sun and he was the moon. They would never work, destined to be on different paths and never forging together.