Lethal Love

23 ; This is Flying

It's Saturday morning and I've just woken up. My eyes are rested on the scenery outside my window. The sky is a dull grey color and drops of rain pitter and patter on the landscape. The tree-branches seem heavier in the rain, falling a little. The green grass has pearls of water resting on it and so does the glass of my window. Several drops trail down, growing in size as they reach the bottom of the sill.

I hear Jackson rolling around in the sheets, groaning and moaning about the time. We fell asleep pretty late last night, but nothing happened. We had a movie-marathon instead. I want to see where this leads before we do it.

I know that sounds stupid since we already did it, but it's different this time around. 

It's better, in a way.

I hear him getting up. Jackson comes up behind me and pulls me to him. "What're you doing?" he whispers in my ear. 

I turn around so I'm facing him, his hands still firmly on my waist. "Just watching the rain."

"Why?" he asks.

"Because I love the rain. It's so..." I pause. Why do I love it so much? I've never actually thought about it. 

"Please don't say romantic," he moans.

I scoff. "Why?"

"It's so cliché," he says.

"Well, I happen to love clichés."

A smirk creeps up on his face. "Want to go out and kiss in the rain?"

I smile a little, leaning in. His smirk grows and he closes his eyes. Then I change direction and place a big wet kiss on his left cheek. Jackson opens his eyes and give me an 'are you serious?'-look. I only laugh and give him a quick peck on the lips before sprinting out of the room.

"That's not enough!" he yells, coming after me down the stairs.

"Too bad. I'm hungry!" I yell back and head for the kitchen.

Jackson catches up to me quickly and we stumble inside the kitchen together, laughing and shoving each other playfully.

When I trip on air and almost fall to the floor, Jackson pulls me flush against his chest, both our breaths a little heavier. He brushes a strand of my hair behind my ear. "I'm pretty hungry too," he whispers, a smirk on his face and I feel my own face getting hot.

"Well that's excellent. I'm making pancakes."

We both freeze and Jackson releases his grip on me. I almost fall to the floor again but manage to steady myself. I turn around to face my dad.

His face is pulled into a stern expression. The fact that he's even here surprises me. But the fact that he's wearing jeans, is the most astonishing part. Jeans means no suit. No suit means no work. No work means... I don't know what it means, but I'm certain I don't like it.

I stand up straight and meet his eyes with a neutral expression. Jackson tenses beside me but I can tell he's as pissed off as me.

"What are you doing here?" I ask.

He gives me an innocent look as if he doesn't know what I'm actually talking about. "This is my home."

Home. I scoff sarcastically at the word. This place hasn't been much of a home lately. A house, yes, but not an actual home. 

Home is where you're supposed to feel safe. Feel loved. All I've been feeling around here is empty. The only other place I've ever felt loved and safe recently is Jacksons arms, when I fell asleep in them last night.