Stitch (Part 3)

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Hi everyone!!! I just want to  thank you all for reading all this, and just say I know now that this story will probably be at least 13 parts, and may even warrant a sequel

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Hi everyone!!! I just want to thank you all for reading all this, and just say I know now that this story will probably be at least 13 parts, and may even warrant a sequel. Let me know what you think!

Love you all for reading!



The drive to Westmeath took about an hour, and during the drive, Jack talked, and talked. He asked me about my family, aboout my uni course (literature) and every little detail about living in Australia, to which I gave him a single word answer: hot.

He roared with laughter, and eventually, after having to pull over, he demanded more information. After thinking for a bit, I gave him another answer: sunny.

Jack refused to take two words as a supplement for a long answer, and so plagued me with questions even faster.

However, about fifteen minutes after I told him Australia was sunny, he cracked up again at another joke. He laughed so hard, that he had to pull over because he had a stitch.

"That...hahaha...was so funny...hahaha!" Then he convulsed suddenly, holding his side.

"Jack?" I asked. Jack hissed through his teeth, still gripping his side. He swore, hands trembling.

"Jack...? What's wrong? Have you got a stitch?"

"Yeah...I'm... okay though...but if you want to drive..."

"Of- of course." I switched sides with him, but while Jack was walking to the other side, I noticed a small dark brown patch on the side of his belly.

"What's that?" I asked, pointing. Jack turned to look, and I swore he turned pale.

"Oh...I spilt coffee on it this morning..."

"Oh..." I said, getting in the drivers seat.

For the remainder of the car trip, he seemed to be in a fair amount of pain.


"Here we are!" He announced, getting out of the car with a huge smile on his face. "Home sweet home, am I right?"

I looked up the tall apartment block. It was white, with balconies hanging off the wall. I took my bags in myself, since Jack seemed to be incapable. I'd thought about taking him to hospital, but brushed it off. He was a grown man. No need for me to interfere.

I climbed the stairs (no elevator) to the fifth floor, where Jack lived. The climb up ruined him, and I was up long before he was. It seemed to take all his breath to go through his door and announce, exuberantly, "I'M HOME!"

He turned to me and smiled. "What do you think?"

I grinned. "Gorgeous." And it really was. The walls were a creamy white, and the carpet was a soft grey. The kitchen tiles, which I could see from where I stood, were light blue and white.

"Come here." Jack beckoned from the beginning of a hallway. I joined him, and he pointed to the door on the left. "Your room/ensuite." He pointed to a door on the right, further down. "My room, and the door all the way down there is my office, where I record and stuff."

"Cool, thanks." I said, and went into my room.

It was also beautiful. The floor was the grey carpet still, but the walls were blue, and the sheets on the bed were blue, a deeper, sea-blue... like Jack's eyes.

I heard Jack down the hall singing loudly, and very off-tune. I sighed happily and grinned.

I was. A roommate. With. Sean. McLoughlin. Jacksepticeye.

Eat my dust!

(End of Audrey's POV)


I desperately pressed towels onto the large wound on my side, trying to staunch the blood. The metallic smell filled my nose, and I felt myself slide onto my knees, then belly, with a voice echoing in my head:

"Don't worry Jack...I will heal it...just rest..."

And rest I did.

(End of part 3)





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