Power Drainage

2K 139 18
                                    

•Y/N: Your Name

Your POV:

Living in the world of Halloween for the past week with Jack has been, in a word, amazing. I've never felt more at home than by his side, and there was never a dull moment with him near, however, I have started to notice him acting a little off lately. He'd often look drained, but would try to disguise it behind wide smiles and would try to distract me by dragging me into fun activities. I had brushed it off several times, thinking that perhaps he's still a bit bothered by the conversation we had in the pumpkin patch on my first day here. He had been very upset that day, though, he hid it well.

I had comforted him the best I could, but perhaps it wasn't enough? Right now, I'm in the kitchen, sitting at the island with Whiskers, who's currently sitting on the far side of the counter. The chubby feline has dots of whipped cream all over his face, which he's cleaning with his rough, pink tongue and fluffy paws. Like me, he had been feasting on the pumpkin pie Jack manifested for this morning's breakfast. Currently, the Halloween King is upstairs, probably contemplating what costume he wants to wear today, so I'm just here waiting for him to finish while munching on my fourth slice of pie.

How is all his food so damn delicious?! I began to feel a bit worried, since Jack still hasn't come downstairs even though it's been a long while, so I decide to check on the spirit to make sure he's okay. I leave my plate on the counter, and Whiskers bolted to eat the remaining food, causing me to shake my head at him in disappointment.

"Fatty," I mutter under my breath while cracking a smile at the silly cat before walking over to the stairs. I look up them and hear a few light thuds from his footsteps, so he's moving around, but what is he up to? Hopefully, it's not a prank to scare me. "Jack, you okay up there?"

"Coming!" He shouts back before appearing at the top of the staircase, seemingly out of breath. He's dressed in a steampunk getup involving an antique white, ruffled shirt, a striped, brown vest with black buttons, black slacks that tuck into laced, high-heeled, brown boots, which reach below his knee, that have golden buckles shaped into gears, a brown hat with a black ribbon and a variety of metal gears attached to it, and a long, dark brown coat with gold buttons. Jack stumbles over his feet a bit as he goes to take the first step before his eyes roll to the back of his head. I gasp and cover my mouth as he suddenly collides into the wall and faints. His heel twists, causing him to tumble down the stairs, so I hurry to catch him and am almost taken down by his weight. His hat flies off and rolls down the steps, only stopping after hitting the floor.

"Jack! Jack, wake up! Are you okay?!" I frantically ask while looking down at his pale face and carefully drag him down the rest of the steps. A soft groan escapes his painted, black lips before his lashes flutter open to reveal his dazed eyes. A few shaky breaths pass his lips as I seat him on the bottom step before sitting beside him. "Jesus Christ, what happened?! You just collapsed!" He rubs his eyes before slapping the sides of his face to wake himself up.

"Sorry," he apologizes while looking up at me with a forced smile on his lips. "I- I'm fine, don't worry. Happens all the time." His hands reach out to my face, and he uses his thumbs to pull at the corners of my lips, turning my concerned frown into a stretched smile. He giggles at how silly I look. "There we go. Much better." I sigh softly and grab his hands before mustering a small smile to make him happy.

"Come on, let's get you to the couch." I bend down on one knee and drape his arm across my shoulders, allowing him to lean against me as I help the spirit up and lead him over to the couch. Whiskers follows at our feet before releasing an anxious meow, causing the blonde to give a reassuring smile to the feline.

"I'm fine, really." I seat the boy on the soft cushions of the couch, and he seemed relieved to sit upon such a comfortable surface after that hard fall. I imagine his body is sore from tumbling down all those steps. I sit beside Jack, and he rests his head against my shoulder with a small smile on his lips. "How sweet. You do care."

Tricks and TreatsWhere stories live. Discover now