Hollows In Time (✔️) | 'Hollows' Book Ⅱ

Chapter Sixty-Two

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Jameson was surprised that I hadn't been sobbing this entire time. Since it was Halloween in three days, we didn't have school, and so Jameson had spent the last day and a half asking over and over if I was sure that I was okay.

He entered into my room, but before he could ask me, I spoke up, from where I stood by my vanity—where I had been decluttering; I missed spring.

"About my body." I spoke up, Jameson clamped his mouth shut and then frowned.

Then a look of realisation washed over his features. "Oh, yes. Your body."

I sighed and put down two tubs of moisturiser. "We need to talk about how I'm going to protect myself in the future." I announced.

Jameson rose an eyebrow. "In the future, I will follow you everywhere–"

"No, no. That's not what I meant." I said quickly, dismissing him. He frowned again, so I sighed again.

I approached him sceptically. "I want you to teach me self-defence." I told him. Jameson stared at me.

"In what world would I ever say 'yes' to that?" He asked.

I rolled my eyes. "In a world where your Special One will get pummelled to the ground if you don't help her kick some arse." I responded, arms over my chest.

Jameson pondered this for a while. "It's a good idea," he started, and I gestured for him to continue, "but it's risky." He finished, and before I could object, he rose a finger to stop me.

"Think of it this way: a Guardian's purpose is to protect an S.O.–"

He must be using Guardian-language.

"–and so they're trained to fight threats. But, one, I have no idea how you'd manage to fight a threat and win," my jaw fell open at his insult, "and, two, I don't know how to teach you to protect yourself and not attack."

I frowned. "Did you just insult the both of us?" I asked and Jameson nodded.

"Okay," I crossed my arms over my chest. "Telling me that you don't know defence is like me telling you that I know everything in the world—because according to my best friend who's actually my Guardian, I don't."

Jameson pulled a face of confusion at the comparison.

I waved it off. "Nonetheless, I still think it'd be beneficial to stay alive." I compensated and Jameson laughed, but ended up agreeing.

And then he told me to get changed into something suitable for fighting. I asked him if a metal box was good.

Despite this, in less than ten minutes, I was dressed in my old gym clothes which, thankfully, fit me still. Jameson walked out of his room in a grey tank and black shorts, which reached to his knees. And boy did his biceps make an appearance. I had a feeling he was talking to me, but I wasn't really paying attention to the words.

"Let's go." He suddenly announced.

My eyes got stuck on his biceps but my head turned. "Wha–?" I tore my eyes off his arms and watched Jameson give me a humoured expression.

"Now that I have your attention," he smiled, strange dimples appearing on his cheeks as he did so. "Shall we start?" He asked.

I nodded but couldn't get words out. What on earth is going on?