I'm Bad. You're Worse.

Fourteen: Weakness

~~~~~~~~~~~~~14~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I'm sorry, Lily." Jake says for about the hundredth time, pulling me in for a hug.

That's when I finally break down, the tears emerging and streaming down my face continuously.

I sob, shaking in his warm, firm hold.

He doesn't shush me or tell me "it will be alright," and that's exactly what I need, because we both know it won't be.

He holds me until I've cried myself dry and presses his lips into my neck gently, pulling me closer.

Once I've composed myself fully, I pull myself away from Jake's warm hold and look into his mesmerizing green eyes.

"Jake...what did you do?" I ask hesitantly, hugging my arm to my side.

A few hours back, Jake had examined my arm and replaced the bandages after re-cleaning the wound.

The word turned out to be 'traitor.'

Ever since we've arrived at his house, he hasn't bothered to explain anything at all, and it's slowly been driving me crazy.

"Just tell me. I nearly got my arm severed because of you." I hiss, re-gaining some of my fire.

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair tiredly. "Lily-" "Cut the bullshit already." I say firmly, staring him down.

"I can't tell you." Jake says, pursing his lips. I gape in disbelief, my mouth hanging wide open. So widely open in fact, that I can see it resting comfortably on my lap.

"Why the hell not?" I growl. "It's better this way." He explains. "I nearly died!" I spit, clenching my jaw in anger.

"You have no idea how much pain I was in. How scared I was." I say, my voice weakening, threatening to break. Jake's voice softens with regret. "Lily, that's exactly my point. You're completely oblivious and you nearly got your arm cut off! Imagine what they'd do to you if you actually knew."

Although I know that he's right, I don't fight against the flare of anger that rises within me.

"Fine. Take me home, then. There's no point in sticking around anyway." I reply, my voice as cold as ice.

I half expect Jake to freeze up.

Jake sighs but doesn't object, getting off of his bed and reaching out a hand to help me up.

I scoff and slap his hand away, getting up. "I'm not THAT weak, you know." I object, glaring at him.

He raises an eyebrow, smirks and says, "I think my tear-stained shirt would object to that."

"Asshole." I mutter, before heading for the door.

I feel his warm, strong hand grab my wrist and pull me back roughly. "I'm sorry." Jake says.

"I know you are. But I still hate you. And I will until you finally tell me the truth." I reply, wrenching my wrist from his grip.

His eyes meet mine for a moment and I can see every emotion playing through them.

Sadness, guilt, anger, concern. And repentance. I know he's sorry, but it isn't enough.

He's not going to gain my forgiveness just yet. Not without telling me what the hell is going on.

"Just drive me home, Jacob." I sigh out, reaching out once more to open the door.

We sit in silence for the duration of the journey, and except for the occasional "change the song" or "turn up the heat," the drive back home is silent and deadly awkward.

When we arrive after half an hour of driving, I bolt out of the car without thanking Jake for the ride, slamming the door harshly behind me.

I run straight up to the house and let myself in, not bothering with a single backwards glance.

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*SIGH* Why does it have to be so awkward with you two??? :/

NOW KISS! :P

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✌ out!

-Sof