Jacob's pov
"Come onnnnn, Troye, we must leave soon. I'm not letting your Mum think I'm a bad influence by showing up late." I whinge, attempting to pull the small boy out of bed.
He fusses and whines, trying to scoot further back into bed to hide in the covers.
"Troye, darling, we gotta go." I mutter, grabbing his hand and pulling it out, forcing him to roll over on his back.
His eyes find mine and he pouts, "Why did I agree to getting up so early?"
"Because you wanna go see your Mum, riiiight?" I ask.
He nods his head back and forth, "Yeah."
"No," He adds, changing his mind and turning back over on his side.
Troye throws the blanket over his head and shields his eyes from the lit up windows I opened in an attempt to get him up minutes prior. I've been trying to get this boy out of bed for the past half hour.
"Yes... and no, yes and no. I just don't want to leave the house today... but I want to see Mum before it's too late. But I don't want to leave the house. I don't wanna leave this bed." He rambles to himself more than I believe he was to me.
He does that sometimes, he'll just start rambling off to himself and hide away. Shaun told me to never leave him alone when he does that, so I've vowed to do as he's warned.
"You're decent, correct? Still have your jammies on?" I ask, a new idea coming to mind.
I watch the blanket move around as if he's checking.
"Yes, wanna join-" I cut him off by scooping him up in the blanket and throwing him over my shoulder.
"Jacob!" He squeals, poking his head out of the blanket and trying to break free.
I stick my tongue out at him and exit his bedroom, strutting down through the flat with the boy struggling against me.
"Jacob Bixenman! Put me down!" He fusses, slipping a hand through the blanket and lightly hitting it against my hip.
"You ready to go? You can brush your teeth at the hospital." I smile and grab his toothbrush and paste off of his washroom counter.
"No! Put me down! Jakey!" He whines, making me chuckle.
I ignore his request, of course, and make my way to the front door.
"Don't you dare think of jumping, T, or I will catch you and punish you with ferocious tickles. Ya hear me?" I give him a half-hearted threat and bend down to pick up our shoes.
Taking me by surprise, his hand finds its way to my tush, giving it a light squeeze.
"Christ," I whisper, standing back upright with our shoes in one hand and the boy held up with my other.
He doesn't move his hand from my butt, only making my cheeks feel hotter.
"Are you having fun there?" I ask, holding the shoes against my stomach as I twist the front door knob.
"I'd rather be in bed, but sure, I guess." Troye murmurs back, sighing dramatically.
I catch the shoes before they fall and swing the door open, carrying the boy and I out of his home and out into the streets.
"You sure are a handful, quite literally in the sense." I quirk an eyebrow up and ignore the looks strangers are giving me as we make our way to the tube station.
I can't blame them, though. I'd probably give myself a funny look to if I saw me barefoot, carrying a boy wrapped up in a blanket down the boulevard. Heh.
