The Hollows Of Hiraeth (✔️) | 'Hollows' Book I

Chapter Fifteen

^ Sky's dress on 'Sky'^

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T h e H o l l o w s O f
H    I    R    A    E T H
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Jameson dropped my shoulders and backed away from me. I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding in. Jameson's back hit the wall and he slid to the ground with his fingers tugging at tufts of his hair.

I took a tentative step towards him—he didn't move. Closing my eyes, I swallowed any hesitation and took a seat upon the floor next to Jameson. He held his head in his hands, still tugging at his hair. I peered at him, trying to get a glimpse at his face.

I sighed when nothing happened for the next few moments, "Drunk Sky is going to pay for doing this." I complained. Jameson let go of his head and rested it instead against the wall.

"It isn't Drunk Sky's fault." Jameson muttered. I turned my head to observe him and frowned when all I saw was a buried lack of self-worth being dredged up along with his painful memories. Wait, he doesn't seriously think that Bert's death was his fault, right?

I shook my head, my thoughts leading me to speak out about the matter, "If you're about to commit verbal suicide, then forget about it." I told Jameson with a stern tone. Jameson turned to glance at me.

"Verbal suicide?" He asked, a glimpse of humour in his eyes. I smiled softly, pleased that I could calm his ticking brain for half a second, whilst twirling and twisting a blonde lock of my hair around my finger, before tucking it behind my ear.

"Yeah, like blaming what happened all on yourself." Jameson sighed at my elaboration and then proceeded to avoid my gaze—as I said, half a second.

"It was technically my fault, I let him lock the–"

"Free will." I interrupted him.

"But I'm supposed to always be by his–"

"Privacy." I interrupted again.

"I have to put my life before–"

"But he decided to take his own life. You couldn't have protected him from that," Jameson sighed. "It was his own choice, Jameson." I tried to soothe him.

Jameson turned to look at me, his eyes meeting mine and gazing into them seriously. "I was his guardian, Sky. I know you don't understand what that means, but I do." Jameson swallowed and closed his eyes. I found myself being bitter over the fact that we couldn't relate, but brushed it off; I'm listening, not evaluating.

"You have to be the hero in practically every situation," He emphasised and opened his eyes. "If anything happens to the one that you're protecting then it all comes back to you." He told me sadly. "You–" Jameson paused. "You feel a sense of care for this person after a while," Jameson's sad eyes bore into mine, "Like if anything happened to them—you'd lose your entire world." He slumped back, appearing to admit defeat.

I found myself trying to place myself in the position of a guardian risking their life, meeting their potential death around every corner, instead of being me—weak, scared, but protected. But as Jameson had stated, it was hard for me to understand. So inconveniently hard.

"Jameson, you need to let go, not only of Bert but of this mistake you seem to think you have made," I tried to talk sense to him, my voice sounding agonised as I strained for a way to make him understand what I was trying to say.