feel. → jacksepticeye

s i x

"Sorry, I just can't stop thinking about her," I sobbed, trying to hide my tears behind a sad grin. Jack rubbed my back soothingly, his eyes concerned and his eyebrows upturned. "We left off on bad terms, so it's kind of hit harder than it would've done usually; that's all."

"It's OK, you don't have to justify your grief," Jack said quietly, his voice kept low as if he were afraid to rupture my fragile state. 

I touch his hand and linked my fingers through his, feeling my tears diminish slowly. "Thanks, Jack. I've known you for just over a week and you've already become a good friend of mine."

"Friend?" He questioned, wiggling his eyebrows in a suggestive manner. "Are you sure you used the right terminology there?"

"Well, you know, we've not really made a title of it yet," I said, hoping to poke a hole in his wall and get him to admit that he did really like me.

"I suppose," Jack admitted with a sigh. "But I want to make it work, and I don't want to move things too fast, you know?"

"You weren't saying that when you screwed my brains out, but sure," I responded sarcastically, and he looked down with a shy blush and scratched the back of his head.

"Yeah," he bit back his laughter. "OK, you got me. Let me take you out at least."

"Somewhere fancy?" I perked an eyebrow.

"Of course. Gotta keep my lady happy," he grinned, throwing an arm around my shoulder. "I hate to say this Bryony, but-"

"But you gotta go back," I finished, knowing how that sentence ended. "It's OK, I get it. You can go. Just promise to make it up to me," I winked.

"Now that's just a win-win," he teased, laughing. "Alright," he slapped a playful hand on my thigh and stood, clasping his free hand around one of my own and tugging me to my feet where he then pulled me to the door. He pressed a lingering kiss to my lips and then moved to place one on my cheek. "I'll see you soon."

"Bye," I whispered; my mind was a tangle of buzzing thoughts as I leaned against the door, sighing wistfully after him as I watched him go until finally shutting it. "I love you."

* * *

"I heard about what happened," Liz said, her voice quiet and distant, almost as if she was trying her hardest to avoid the seemingly inevitable thunderstorm of rage. "Are you OK?"

I looked at her with a steady expression. "I think so."

"Uh," Liz suddenly looked uneasy. "Are you sure? I mean, I know you guys weren't the closest, but she's still your mom, right?"

"I guess so," I shrugged, moving across the room with an air of confidence until reaching the pot in the corner. It was a sleek cylinder, where you pulled the silver ball at the top until cigarettes sprung out in a circle. I plucked one as delicately as if plucking a petal from a flower, and even took one to offer to Liz. "Wanna die young?"

She eyed the thing in my hand as if I were offering poison, but then her expression softened and she snatched it from my hand with a simple "Fuck it."

"School has been stressing me the fuck out," she sighed, taking a drag and holding back her cough as she rubbed her temples. I looked at her from the corner of my eye and switched my laptop on, flicking through some albums on Spotify. "I feel as if every time I walk into the classroom the professors main goal is to rip my brain out from my fucking nose."

I smiled sweetly as I started playing some Melanie Martinez. "This is the Liz I like."

"What do you mean? Stressed-as-fuck Liz? Bitch," she joked, blowing out smoke.

"I mean the Liz who actually converses with me," I corrected. "All you ever seem to do nowadays is looking at me like I'm half insane or something."

"You are half insane," she said. "But somehow you get me."

"Yup," I nodded, sitting down on the sofa with a content sigh. "But- please don't call me that. I don't like it."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend your people," she winked, throwing her legs up onto the coffee table. "But seriously, are you sure you're doing OK? You're walking around as if you're stepping on eggshells trying to avoid something."

I felt something twitch inside of me, almost as if a switch had been flipped and sparks had flown. "Not anymore, bitch."

"I- I'm sorry?" Liz questioned, choking on her breath. I turned to her and forced a smile, dropping my eyes to the place where a small shard of broken glass glints in the orange light. 

"I'm not walking on eggshells anymore," I said, a sweet yet sadistic tone rasping my tongue. "You know, my mother always used to pamper me. A real sweetheart, actually. It's such a shame it had to end this way."

Liz threw her legs off of the table and let them hang over the sofa instead, her eyes widening slightly as she reached with shaky hands to squish her cigarette butt into an ashtray. 

"You're starting to freak me out," she admitted quietly, her fear apparent.

"Why?" I questioned, rubbing my fingers over the soft petals of a flower bunch that was placed upon the thick, white windowsill in a blue glass vase.

"Because," she started, and I turned to her, noticing her hesitancy and cracking into a smile when I noticed the wideness of realization in her dilated eyes. "You-"

"Smart girl." I winked.

Wild with fear, Liz launched herself for the door and I blocked her path for a brief moment to snatch the ends of her rotten-red coloured hair to whisper a few, simple words.

"Watch your back."

And then I moved, allowing her to scuttle out of the room and frantically push the button to the elevator. She looked rabid as if running for her life, though she had to understand I wasn't so stupid as to rip her guts out- her family would notice, the press would be informed, and dad probably wouldn't fork out the cash to save my ass this time.

Guess I really was a lot more alone than I thought.

* * *

hey so depending on how i pace this story it will probably end at like ten to fifteen chapters but we shall see