Troye Sivan
"You sure you've got it?" I ask, placing a hand on Jacob's back as he limps out of the hospital lobby with me.
"I've got it." He says a bit snippily.
"Alright..." I whisper, doing the minimum and at least holding his hand.
He twirls our fingers together and squeezes my palm, being the most confusing kind of off. I pull his keys from my hoodie pocket and unlock the rover, directing him to the passenger side.
"I can drive." He tries.
"You just endured a severe head and stomach injury, you're not driving anywhere." I declare, opening the door for him and pointing in.
"Someone sure is demanding today, I see." He mutters, giving in and getting into the car.
I close the door for him and get in on my side, starting it up and backing out of the snowed down parking lot. I'm onto the main street in no time and on the way home in a few short minutes.
"Easy there." He pipes up as I do a sharp right turn into the driveway.
I glance at him then back out there, "Sorry."
It's simply been forgotten about as we get out and quickly indoors, it being all kinds of chilly out today.
We're greeted by Margret who looks up at Jacob like a concerned mother.
"Good day, sir."
"Good day, Margret."
"How are you feeling, sir?" She asks.
He shrugs, "I'm doing just fine."
"May I take your coat, brew some coffee? Anything of the sort?"
"I'm fine." He responds, "You're off for the day, go home."
She beams greatly, "Thank you, sir."
Margret then grabs her shoes and keys then heads out. I'm left with Jacob, giving him a pitiful look as he looks out of breath.
"You alright?" I ask.
"I'm fine." He grumbles.
"Can you stop looking at me like that?" He continues on, making my heart drop.
"I'm sorry." My confidence drops to a minimum as I surrender to him.
"You should be." He says, walking off towards his room.
I stand back in shock, unable to believe him.
"What's that supposed to mean?!" I call out, making him turn around.
He scoffs and swings a hand in the air, "You should be sorry."
"It's your fault I'm in the state I'm in!" He exclaims.
I stand back, unable to speak a word.
"It's all your fault!" He yells, making tears well in my eyes.
"How- how is it my fault?" I stutter out.
He clenches his jaw, "You're the one that let Pierce in. You're the one that just had to be saved."
"And that's just the type of person you are." Jacob utters.
"Excuse me?" I inquire.
"The type of person I am?" I add, "You don't know the 'type' of person I am."
"You don't know me!" I speak before he can.
He scoffs, "I know you!"
"I know you, I know you like shit Disney movies and overcooked noodles with awful flavour packets. You like the crappy cappuccino, bitter lifestyle, you live off it." He pauses, "I know you have nights when you need to scratch your skin red until it's burning because feel so filthy. I've been in your head. I know you... maybe even better than you know yourself."
I can't help but let a sad, pitiful laugh out.
"You don't know me! You don't know what it's like!" I shout in his face.
"You don't fucking know me!"
"If you knew me you'd know why I like shite films, cheap food, and the bitter taste of dripped coffee. I don't like it because it helps me feel like the bitter person I crave to be, I like it because it reminds me of the person I lost. Years ago." I ramble.
"The bitter, blood-thirsty asshole who stole my heart." I mutter.
"It's you! It's fucking you, you asshole!" I yell.
His face pales in guilt.
"You have me." He whispers, "When did you think you lost me?"
"No. I lost you." I mumble, "I lost you when I was still married."
"I try to scratch clean your fingerprints you left on me! Those nights I don't want to remember your skin against mine. Some nights I barely graze a loofah over my skin, too scared and worried that I would wash away the only thing I had of you. The only thing I'd ever get."
"So don't think you fucking know me, Bixenman." I speak loud and proud.
"You know nothing about me." I say finally, ending my rant.
Jacob stands back guffawed with his jaw dropped and tears fallen down his cheeks. I think this might be the first time I've ever seen him cry.
"Out." He murmurs.
"W-what?" I ask.
"Out!" He shouts, "Get out!"
With my heart in my hands and tears begging to fall out of my eyes, I listen to him. I obey. I walk right out Jacob Bixenman's front door.
YOU ARE READING
sued into submission 🌷 tracob
Fanfiction"troye sivan, you've been served." the man in a black coat says, handing me a folder. i clench my jaw, taking it. "all i did was spill a coffee on the bloke, it's not like i fucked his mother in hindsight."
