Jupiter Falls ✓

o8| shaky ground

Chapter 8 

dedicated to weeknder for this amazing cover, she's super nice too & you guys should read her book "Robin des Bois" it's so good!

The next day, I had awoken in arms. In the arms of who I was expected to be with, in my birthday suit, legs tangled and duvet pulled up high.

"Good morning fiancé," Hays kissed a slow and blooming touch of love into my shoulder blade as her fingers ran up and down the side of my arm.

"Morning babe," I said, the sleepiness still evident in my voice. I felt the bed shift as Hays probably sat up, curiosity got the better of me and so despite my lazy sleep deprived body, I turned my head on the pillow to face her.

The light was dancing into the bedroom from the bedside window, highlighting the high points of Hays' face, her pointed nose tip caught my attention first as it glistened. The whole left side glowed in fact—she was beautiful (but that was something I already knew). Her lashes rested like neatly trimmed grass, on the soft of her under-eye skin, as she gathered her hair into a messy ponytail.

The simple yet so beautiful morning things she did made me smile, and a pool of light warmth bounced in me by watching her. She and I, Hays and Jupiter. That was us—the thought of her lips on mine made my smile wider and brighter as it warmed with Hays.

I placed my right hand on the pillow and covered the left side of my face, so she wouldn't see me staring—because, well just because. It's something I like to do, a habit one might say.

"I can feel you staring darling," she said opening her eyes and smiled back at me.

"How do you know when I'm staring?" I asked, she always knew, but I always tried to conceal it—it never worked (as you might have guessed).

"When someone you love even looks at you— you can sense it, and well they full-on stare at you just imagine the feeling Juno," she said. A comfortable silence followed, and we basically mentally prepared ourselves for that laborious tasks of the day.

"What time is it Hays?" I asked, and she reached over for my phone on the bedside table.

"It's 11:47 am," she said and I groaned. I'd slept in and if I really wanted to get some (any) stuff done today I should have been up hours ago due to how long it takes me to find the energy, like any normal human being, to do things.

"I don't want to get up, hell I'm so lazy," I said.

The following question felt like the equivalent to a bucket of cold water being splashed on my head, making me successfully sit up right in the bed, like a rocket despite my lack of energy, "Who's Harry?"

I had to think carefully about my response to this, and stop my running mouth from saying something stupid like: "the guy I slept with after our fight" or " he's a goddamn good lay".

"Wait who?" I replied, when—how did she find out he even existed? Holy crap, what if they'd already met, what if she already knew about Harry and I?—Holy shit I'm done for.

"He called your phone yesterday night," she said, oh—she looked at my phone... Jesus if the boy wasn't calling my phone all the goddamn time then, I wouldn't be in this pickle of having to lie. Of having to become what I'd despised so much in my dad—a liar.

"He's my co-worker... at Joe's," I said. It's technically a lie if you just leave relevant pieces of information out like, "oh yeah, we've become really good friends—and oh, we've fucked while we were still technically together".