✓ KISS TO KILL | JAKE

47- If she had been with me

47-if he had been with me

Jake's gaze remained fixated on Y/n's peaceful sleeping form, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and longing. He felt utterly helpless, unsure of what he could do other than wait and hope for a sign of improvement. Despite the transfusion of his blood into hers, there were no immediate indications of her condition improving.

Throughout the day, Jake never strayed far from Y/n's side, keeping a vigilant watch over her. His mother, Eve, checked in on him regularly, offering words of comfort and support. Her presence provided some solace amidst the turmoil that enveloped Jake's heart.

Amidst the uncertainty, Jake pondered ways to ease Y/n's journey back to consciousness. Reading had always been one of her cherished activities, and he wondered if immersing her in the familiar words of her favorite books might awaken something within her. Turning to Heeseung, his trusted confidant, Jake issued a command without diverting his gaze from Y/n's sleeping figure.

"Heeseung, please gather all of Y/n's books from her library and bring them to me," Jake instructed firmly, his eyes never leaving Y/n's face. "will you not shower-look at your clothes." heeseung muttered stepping back a little bit away from jake. Jake who was still wearing the shirt with Jane's blood. "go fucking bring the books." Jake gritted making Heeseung cower. He did care about the blood, he just want to see y/n's orbs again, he wanted to be lost in her eyes.

The intensity in Jake's eyes left no room for argument. Heeseung understood that Jake simply longed to see the light in Y/n's eyes again, to be lost in the depth of her gaze.

After a mere fifteen minutes, Heeseung returned with a stack of books, placing them gently beside Jake. Jake's hands cradled the weight of the first book, a vessel of stories that had never held much significance to him before Y/n entered his life. He had never paid much attention to writing or reading until he discovered Y/n's love for literature. He had never cared about creating fantasy characters until she became his own fantasy.

As Jake opened one of Y/n's favorite books, "If He Had Been with Me" by Laura Nowlin, he couldn't help but notice the small annotations and underlined phrases scattered throughout its pages. Each mark represented a moment when Y/n's thoughts and emotions were intertwined with the story. It was as if the book had become a conduit through which she could express her own experiences and reflections.

While reading, Jake stumbled upon passages that resonated deeply within him, evoking a whirlwind of emotions. Lines such as "It hurts for him to smile at me like that" and "Are you sure you still would want to if you were sober?" stirred an ache in his chest. They reminded him of the complexities of their own relationship, the pain they had endured together.

Another passage caught Jake's attention, and he couldn't help but read it with a bittersweet pang in his heart: "I never know what to do to make you happy, do I?" The words hung in the air, the sentiment hitting close to home. He whispered softly, almost to himself, "You make me happier than anyone ever has." The realization struck him that his presence alone had brought Y/n joy, yet the circumstances now left her lying unconscious.

Continuing to read, Jake became engulfed in the intricacies of the story, captivated by the beautifully tragic depiction of the characters' love and the obstacles they faced. The lines between reality and fiction blurred as he read not only for Y/n but also for himself. In those moments, he found solace within the pages, escaping momentarily from the weight of his own world.

Hours passed, yet Jake remained absorbed in the words, oblivious to his mother's pleas for him to tend to his own needs. The story became his refuge, allowing him to momentarily forget his worries and immerse himself in someone else's journey. He read on and on, embracing the power of storytelling to provide temporary respite from his pain.

While lost in the depths of the book, Jake came to understand why readers seek solace within the pages of their favorite novels. He recognized the ability of literature to transport the mind to distant lands and offer an escape from the harsh realities of life. The characters became companions, their struggles and triumphs intertwining with their own emotions.

As the night grew darker, Jake's voice grew softer, blending with the rhythmic sound of Y/n's breathing. The book had become more than just a story; it had become a lifeline, connecting him to Y/n in the realm of imagination and shared emotions. He poured his heart into every word, hoping that somehow, his love would reach her, even in her unconscious state.

Hours turned into a blur as Jake lost himself in the tale, not noticing the passage of time or the exhaustion creeping into his body. He was determined to stay by Y/n's side, to be there when she finally opened her eyes and returned to him.

Eventually, the morning light began to seep through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. Jake's voice faltered, his eyes heavy with fatigue. He closed the book, placing it gently on the bedside table, and leaned back in his chair, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from Y/n's face.

"I'm here, Y/n," he whispered, his voice filled with both love and sorrow. "I will always be here, waiting for you."

Eve quietly entered the room, her eyes filled with concern and admiration for her son. She could see the toll this ordeal had taken on him, but she also saw the unwavering devotion and love that burned within him. She placed a hand on his shoulder, offering him comfort and support.

"You've done everything you can, my dear," she said softly. "Now it's a matter of time and Y/n's own strength. Have faith in her and in your love."

Jake nodded, his gaze never leaving Y/n's face with a thought roaming his mind, 'If she had been with me."

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