I used to watch him do his homework, when we studied together at his desk. He used to sit at his desk with me on his lap, one arm holding my waist, and the other free hand writing away.
He used to make this face.. His eyebrows would furrow together, creating lines above his nose. His lips would be slightly parted with his eyes burning holes in his paper.
I would help him with out with his spelling and grammar, he was terrible at using 'big, scary words' as he would say. He'd help me with my algebra, that was one of my weakest subjects, but surprisingly it was one of Jacks favourite subjects.
If I worked out an equation for myself and got it right, Jack would give me a kiss on the cheek and put a pink counter in our Ice-cream jar. I had the pink counters, and Jack had the blue counters. The counter jar was a regular thing we'd do, if I had more counters than Jack, he would have to buy me Ice-cream for a week, and if he had more counters in the jar I had to buy him ice-cream for 2 whole weeks, that way Jack knew I would try my hardest in algebra.
I remember when I went shopping with his mum. Bonding with your boyfriend's mum is the best. She's like a second mother to me, she was telling me things about Jack, that I didn't know of.
He had depression until he met me. It was severe, no one knew why he had it. He refused to go to therapy and take his meds because he didn't want to be drugged up on something that made him feel like someone that he isn't.
"The day he met you and talked to you, he smiled.. for the first time in months. I had missed my little boy's smile. Thanks to you, I saw it again. I was afraid that I was gonna lose him, but thank god I didn't, Thank you (Y/n), for making Jack happy again, I'm just really glad he met you.. Whatever you had done to him to make him feel this way, I appreciate it.. I'm glad you two are together. I love you as much as Jack does.. but as a mother of course." She told me, she hugged me close and tight, as we released from each others grip, she had tears forming in her eyes.
The day he told me he loved me, that was the best day of my life. Knowing someone was there for you, knowing someone would protect you, knowing someone cares for you, knowing that they wouldn't give up on you.. Knowing that they love you.
The way he'd hold me in his arms, the way he would smile or smirk at me, the way he'd get jealous if a boy would talk to me or even look at me, the way he used to kiss me, the way he used to love me..
I miss that. A lot.
Right now I'm standing in his room, his mum and dad are downstairs, they understood why I wanted to be alone.
I go up to his dresser and take a couple of his hoodies and sit down with them on his bed. I put them up to my face and smell them, his cologne lingered throughout the room. I place the hoodies down at the end of the bed, I pull myself up more, curling into a ball with my face in his pillow and start crying, making his pillows wet. All I want is him. No one else, I just want him.
"Where are you, Jack? Come home please, I love and miss you."
