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// Ethan's point of view //

I wake up next to Jakob and for a split second, it's like nothing ever went wrong. Then everything comes flooding back to me, and I wish I had just stayed asleep. Pulling him closer to me, I slide my arms further around his torso and bury my face further around the back of his neck.

"I'm not going anywhere," I hear him whisper and I suddenly feel embarrassed. "And I can't breathe when you do that."

"I'm sorry." I reply, sheepishly loosening my grip and turning over. This causes more movement in the bed and I can tell Jakob has sat up. I just close my eyes and try to fall back asleep.

"Hey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you," he tells me, then realises I'm not upset at that at all. In fact, I don't even know what I'm upset at. "Wait, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." I whisper, burying myself further into my pillow, away from him.

"Ethan," Jakob tries teasingly, poking my side under the blankets. I can't help a small smile. Then he leans over me and kisses the part of my neck he can reach, working his way up my jawline. "Turn over, I want to see you."

"I've wanted to see you for the past two weeks but you haven't let me in."

He pulls away at that and I instantly feel guilty. I wasn't actually going to say anything like that to him- I know it's not his fault- but I just did and I couldn't feel worse. I'm not sure what I was expecting Jakob to do, but I didn't expect him to walk out of the room. I lay still for a few more minutes, debating whether getting up is worth it. He'll come back, right? That's when I hear the front door shut and instantly snap into a hurry. He can't leave! I stumble down the stairs and trip on the bottom one, falling but recovering before I hit the ground. I run past the kitchen and towards the door, only stopping when I hear someone talking.

"That was Chris, not me."

I turn around so quickly I lose my footing completely this time and end up on my hands and knees on the floor. Catching my breath back, I slowly stand up and run a hand through my hair. When I'm able to breathe properly again, something else clicks inside of me: Jakob didn't sound okay when he spoke. I'm back in the kitchen before I can even register what I'm doing. Jakob's leaning against the bench, propped up on his elbows as he holds his head in his hands. And just as I thought, he's crying.

"Why can no one understand that I don't want to talk? Talking makes it harder." He whispers. I'm not sure if he's even talking to me or just to himself, but I answer anyway.

"But you always talk to me. Why not now?"

"Now is different," Jakob cries, taking a shaky breath. "Before I wanted to talk, now I can't even say it out loud."

"Say what?" I ask, taking a few steps towards him, not wanting to come on too fast.

"What I'm thinking."

"If you can't tell me, can I at least try something that might help you feel better?" I suggest.

"That depends." Jakob stands up, wiping the tears from his cheeks. He avoids my eye contact by staring at the toaster.

"You trust me, right?" I ask, taking another step forward and risking reaching out to take his hand. Fortunately he doesn't flinch away.

"Of course I do."

"Come with me."

I lead him by the hand back upstairs and into my room. I make him sit down and get as comfortable as possible before disappearing to get my laptop from the study. When I get back to my room, Jakob hasn't moved and he's staring at me. He's on his back, propped up by many pillows.

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