Seven Minutes From Heaven [bxb]

Chapter 33 - Liam POV: Fizzy bottle

A/N: So we all know the drill that none of these chapters are edited or looked over, but this one especially so. I needed a prelude to get to the chapter i'm most excited about which SHOULD be coming next, but I'm not sure about this pacing. I feel like it may feel rushed or be a bit of a whiplash, but I'll do my best to ensure that the next chapter smoothes it over. 

As always, thanks for your support the entire way through, especially as we come soo painfully close to the end!

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The look on Jude's face when his dad took hold of his shoulders and crouched to his level, I still couldn't forget about it. This guy's expression hardened just for that split second, and then I never saw that look again. It's as if he couldn't accept what happened, and as if avoiding it would somehow stop it from becoming real. There were no tears because he wasn't ready to accept it. And going by his careless, carefree attitude whenever we spoke, from then and until now, I think he still refused to face his past or accept the truth.

And it's already been weeks.

His mum's funeral's been and gone, but he neither uttered a word nor shed a tear. Few people went up to speak, and of those who did, only celebrated God and not his mum's life. The entire service felt morbid, and I think it may have been a cruel awakening for Jude. He would have wanted to celebrate his mum's life, not hail praises to God.

And thanks to the fact that she hid her illness right up until the last minute, he had no time to process nor prepare himself for the fact that he was going to lose his mum. I doubted he even knew how to grieve. Tristan helped me understand a lot of the Christian ways, like how they're called to hand their troubles straight to God and forget about them. Its toxicity was palpable. As a result of this blind dependence, Jude had no life or survival skills.

All he ever had was faith in a God who never once had faith in him.

It seemed like the best he could do was block out the constant news of his two abusers. Block out the immeasurable pain he must've had to face at his mum's funeral. Drown out his reality, run away, and avoid facing these problems. Jude did everything in his power to ensure he didn't have to confront them.

He was... busy, constantly, like he couldn't sit still. As if a single moment's silence would consume him, he was always involving himself in new activities, trying new things, immersing himself in this new secular world that he had no idea existed. I was always happy to help keep him busy and entertain him in any way I could, but honestly, I just kept getting swept along at his pace. I didn't know how else to help him.

We sat in our new Food Tech class he very easily convinced me to join with him. There was an array of food colourings, carefully measured jugs of icing sugar and water, metal bowls for mixing, and several types of sprinkles set in front of us. He seemed to take great joy in baking and decorating, and I always let him take the lead. When our oven's bell went off, he put his hands through large cooking mitts and hurried over to fetch our tray.

"D'you think they look nice?" he asked when he came back, setting down our tray of star shaped cookies and gazed up at me for approval.

"They do," I answered, unable to help myself from smiling.

"And d'you think they'll taste nice?"

"I mean, you did most the work," I said. "I think they'll taste bloody perfect."

His grin from ear to ear made this whole decision to join cooking with him all the more worth it. He looked sweet in his black apron, and this whole thing seemed to play a big role in his confidence. Although he looked fine on the outside, I knew better than to buy into this façade after talking with my mum. She said this kind of avoidance was an extreme defence mechanism, but was more common than I realised. As someone who only had a god to turn to in the past, he didn't know a healthy way of dealing with things. And since he no longer wanted to associate with this god, he had no other way to cope.