all-american :: jotaro x reader

chapter 20 :: all-american gratitude

Mom comes home tomorrow, or should I say, gets discharged, and I am beyond enthused.

I couldn't sleep last night, I was too busy thinking about everything that had happened. I had only managed about three or four hours and I was so tired I could barely function, and thankfully grandma burst into my room as politely as she could with a breakfast place of rice with those fish flakes that move with heat. Bonito flakes, I believe?

And I lay there, eating them with the widest smile on my face like a chump. Who cares my eyes were almost purple from sleep? My heart was still high on the feeling of what might have been love.

Well, who knows. A boy who drove you to the hospital at 9 at night seems a lot like love to me.

I realize as well that I've still got my clothes from last night on, probably explaining why grandma looked at me weirdly when she walked in and handed me the chopsticks and the bowl with a weary "good morning".

I blew on the remaining flakes, making them twitch spastically in my wind before I picked up a chunk and placed it into my mouth, as content as ever a person could be on a Saturday morning.

A lot of my morning was filled with heavy sighs of contentment, my mind relapsing to a pleasing detail from the previous night and filling my lungs with air again. I just couldn't stop.

I loved it.

Eventually I figured I might as well get up and change again if I want to look normal when I walk into the kitchen.

So I do, getting ready - the usual dental hygiene and makeup, and swapping last nights outfit for a pair of more tight-fitting jeans and an old champion sweater, and of course, socks.

I walk out into the kitchen with my empty plates, licking the rice off the corner of my mouth and then I realize that I have a favor I owe.

I look at my grandpa, reading a newspaper while grandma tends to the kettle on the stove, and place my hands on my bowl, feeling over the rim. "Mornin', grandpa," I drawl in my morning voice, "Do you mind if I go to the shop and get a box of chocolates?"

"Oh-ho," he huffs, putting down his newspaper and peering over the rims of his glasses, "you got a boy you fancy?"

"Maybe," I tease him, "I have a favor I owe."

He laughs to himself and tosses me the keys, which were laying snugly in his jean pocket. "Go wild. But not too wild, ya hear?"

I laugh in response as well. "Yeah."
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The inn had a sign hanging on the door saying they'd be open the day after Mom returns. I eyed it as I turned the lock and slid the door open, and the cold air still packed inside hit me like a train - the heater had been off for almost a week now and the old wooden house was really feeling it.

Walking back to the freezer, I picked out a holographic box that had a print that looked like real waves on the front. Inside were chocolate seashells, dusted an edible metallic color.

I smile, tucking them under my arm so they would thaw a little as I closed the refrigerator and re-closed the shop.

Shoving the keys in my pocket, I walked to the inn.

The inn looked more cozy to me for some reason now, the approaching holidays already dictating what the decor would be for the month. I walked up the door with my pride in my hands, trying to look as nonchalant as possible.

Past the doors, I walked inside. Holly was tending to the floors, sweeping away happily, when she noticed me enter and dropped everything to run over.