Lean on Me || Jill Roord

14. Oh

On Thursday, Jill didn't get home from training until later than usual, which I didn't necessarily worry about until she walked into the door. I had taken the time to do my at-home stretches in the afternoon when the sun was shining brightly through my window. Jill's mood seemed off when she finally did walk in, and I could tell right away something was up, but I'd never push her to talk. I wouldn't do that to anyone. But that feeling lingered as I sat on the couch, gazing in her direction.

I watched as Jill moved around my apartment, setting her things down before making her way into my room to most likely shower and change. She gave me a small smile, but that was it, nothing more. I tried not to think too much about the uneasy feeling that had formed in my stomach as I tried to focus my attention on the Champions League highlights I'd been watching before Jill arrived. I couldn't let my thoughts run with such a minor thing.

Glancing at the time, I realised it was almost dinner, and I decided to get up and start cooking. Jill had cooked the most of this week, so I figured I would cook for once. I opened the fridge, staring into it, hoping something would pop out and catch my eye. Pursing my lips, I debated what to make. I loved making pasta, but we had that earlier in the week, and I figured neither of us wanted it again so soon.

"Make that broccoli and chicken you've made before. It was really good." A voice offered made me jump. I turned to see Jill taking a seat at the island counter, a computer in hand. She had a small smile on her face, no doubt smug about the fact that she had scared me, getting me back for all the times I've scared her. It was like a running joke between us; I'd always somehow been able to sneak up on her, especially when she was cooking.

I hummed before turning back to the fridge and grabbing the things I needed out of the fridge. It was a comfortable silence that had consumed us as I cooked and Jill did whatever it was she was doing on her laptop. I was still hyperaware of the odd feeling I'd gotten from Jill when she walked in this evening, but I tried my best to push it away. It had reappeared as she worked on her laptop and I cooked our dinner. As I put the chicken into the oven, Jill finally broke the silence. "Caroline?"

I turned to Jill as I closed the oven and hummed in response.

"I was thinking of moving back into my apartment this weekend." She paused, and my heart dropped. "I know I was only supposed to stay here a month, and I know I've overstayed that, and you probably want your space back." The silence that followed was deafening.

The hurt look that took over my face was hard to mask. Sure, she was only supposed to stay a month, but I had come to enjoy her company every day a lot more than I'd like to admit. Jill had become a big constant in my life. "Oh," was all I said after a moment.

I didn't meet Jill's eyes, turning back to the broccoli I had cooking on the stove. I could feel Jill's eyes watching my every movement, and I didn't know if I'd be able to face hers right now. "I just feel like I've probably overstayed my welcome." Jill spoke quietly after a minute.

"You haven't," I mumbled more to myself, even though it was loud enough for her to hear. If she heard, she didn't say anything the rest of the time I was cooking or while we ate.

Our dinner was eaten in tense silence where Jill tried numerous times to catch my eye, but I wouldn't let her. I feared everything might boil over if they did. I wasn't really hungry for dinner anymore, but I knew Jill would get upset if I didn't eat. So I ate as much as I felt fit.

After dinner we moved to the couch where Jill sat next to me and didn't say anything as I turned on the Champions League highlights I was watching back on. I wasn't paying any attention to them though; I was still trying to comprehend what Jill had dropped on me on a random Thursday. Lost within my own thoughts, I felt cold arms gently wrap around me and pull me into themselves. I let out a shaky breath as Jill laid me practically on top of her, but I didn't complain. Why would I?