Anonymous

Chapter Five

You couldn't remember much of what had occurred last night. There had been lots of drinking, that much you knew, and there may have been a few brawls dispersed throughout the night. You weren't sure if Jacob started them or if you'd unwittingly done so but there had definitely been a good fight or two. You think there might have been a broken window involved somewhere along the way.

After leaving the pub, events were rather a blur. You couldn't remember what was said. And you certainly couldn't remember if you were supporting Jacob as he walked or if he was supporting you. Somehow, the two of you staggered your way through Whitechapel, a pair of drunken loons doing everything in your ability to make fools of yourselves.

That... That was the last you could remember. You couldn't remember how you got to the room you were in, an unfamiliar room that was brightly decorated. In fact, too bright if you had anything to say about it. Just looking at the oranges and yellows caused your skull to split and your eyes to cringe away.

You were also uncertain how you managed to sleep on the hard, thin couch with Jacob Frye's full weight on top of you. He seemed to have slept undisturbed, his breath still soft and you knew that because it tickled wistfully over your neck. His body rested heavily between your thighs which made it impossible to shift out from under him.

"Frye," you mumbled, giving his shoulder a good shake. You groaned because the sudden gesture sparked another sharp burst of pain across your head. "Wake up, Frye."

He moaned sleepily and for a moment you thought he might wake. However, he only seemed to bury himself further against you, his arms snaking around you, curving your back off of the couch. His hips seemed the worst of it, grinding hard over bones and skin, sparking a heat across your face.

"Frye, get up. Someone might walk in on us." You shoved him and tossed your gaze about the room as best you could. Nothing really looked all that familiar but you recognized expensive when you saw it. "I don't even know where the hell we are."

Jacob gave a bitter groan and lifted his head. He managed to pull an arm from underneath you and smash a hand into his face, rubbing harshly the grogginess off of his features. "What's this..." His hand fell away as he took in your expression but he didn't seem all that surprised to see you. "Oh. What's all this yelling about, little sparrow?"

You bit your lip, trying to process your sudden arousal as well as the title Jacob used. He had called you that last night, you think, after some drunken debate about the strange title for his gang. You squirmed beneath him, trying to get free but the movement unintentionally rubbed your front half across his, knotting a defensive tension in your gut.

He sat up despite his hands sliding down your sides, stopping casually on your thighs. He looked amusedly at his open shirt and unbuttoned waistcoat, his jacket tossed on the floor some distance away.

You pulled your eyes from Jacob's chest to your own attire, thankful that it was mostly still put together. Your jacket was gone and so were your belts but everything else had been untouched. Whatever the two of you had been foolishly planning didn't quite happen for whatever reason last night.

He looked about the room just as you had done earlier. "Looks like we stopped by and paid Greenie a little visit last night."

"Evie's best mate?" You sat up and nursed your pounding migraine in your hand.

Jacob rolled his eyes to you and gave a bitter groan. He didn't seem pleased about something and you were guessing it was your words. He got to his feet and adjusted his shirt and waistcoat.

"Blast," you hissed with clenched eyes. "My head is killing me."

Jacob's chuckle sent your heart swooning, your breath tangling. "Well, you did manage to drink more than the rest of us, little sparrow."