Less Talk - A Hangman Story

Part VII

Jake walks out onto the porch, closing the door behind him. You're sitting on the top step with your elbows resting on your knees and your chin in your hands.

"You look happy," Jake comments, taking a seat beside you.

You glance over at him jadedly. "I've had a day," you respond.

Jake gives you a pointed look. "You don't say," he notes sarcastically. He had gathered as much when you fled the living room after snapping at Bradley for trying to interrogate you once more.

You roll your eyes, but your mouth moves into a slight grin. "Shut up, Seresin."

Jake leans sideways to nudge you gently on the shoulder. "Wanna get out of here?"

You furrow your eyebrows. "This is your party."

Jake waves a hand. "It's Bradley's party."

You eye him skeptically. "Right," you say, seemingly unconvinced. "What's he celebrating again?"

Jake endeavors to keep a straight face while meeting your gaze. "How should I know?" he asks.

You half-scoff, half-laugh in response and this makes Jake bizarrely happy. It's stupid how giddy getting you to smile makes him feel.

He watches you steadily, wondering how many times you've caught him staring at you when even he hadn't realized it. "Seriously," he says. "What's stopping us from just taking off?"

You glance at him with a somewhat bewildered expression. "Where would we even go?" you ask.

Jake shrugs. "Wherever you want to go."

You narrow your eyes distrustfully. "You're doing it again," you say.

Jake grimaces. "What?"

"Being nice."

"It's strange that you find kindness suspicious," he responds. "It's kind of a red flag."

You let out a soft laugh. "In my defense, I don't ever expect it out of you."

Jake nods, not entirely surprised at your response. Nonetheless, he exhales wearily and turns to face forward.

He feels your shoulder as you nudge him back. "Well, don't sulk about it, you big baby," you say playfully. "Is it my fault you're usually an asshole?"

Jake stares at the porch steps before him stiffly, having barely registered your insult. You're still leaning into him and, as a result, his entire body is in a state of acute arousal. Thoughts of reaching over and sinking his hand into your thigh to pull you in and wrap your leg around his torso are trampling his original intentions of carrying on a respectable conversation. "Did you just call me baby?" he mutters absently.

"Umm." There's an awkward pause after this articulation during which you straighten your back, thereby releasing Jake from the stupor caused by your innocent – yet noticeably prolonged – nudge.

Jake turns to look at you, still mildly dazed. "I'm sorry," he says. "I missed that last part."

You blink at him mutely, then tear your gaze away and rise to your feet. "I said, you're an asshole," you say causally.

Jake creases his eyebrows, glancing after you as you skip down the steps. "I might've missed a little more than just the last part, then," he mumbles, mostly to himself. Then he gets up. "You know who's an asshole?" he says, confidence gaining in his voice. "Mustang."

You roll your eyes. "You don't even know him."

Jake cocks his head inquisitively, wondering if your ex might have something to do with your elusive behavior. "I know enough," he says, hoping to provoke you into conversation.