Troye's pov
"Lay the fuck back down!" I yell, pushing Jacob onto his back.
He shoots me a glare and sits back up, "Don't tell me what to do."
Placing a hand on his shoulder, I press him back down firmly.
"You aren't well. So you are going to stay down and rest until you're feeling better." I demand, "Got it?"
I've been dealing with this psycho for hours and I swear he is the most stubborn fuck boy I have ever met. He wants up, no he wants to be in his bedroom, I bring him to his bedroom, he wants the sofa pillows- he cannot make up his mind.
He grinds his teeth together, crossing his arms over his chest and huffing.
I don't have any of that, doing the same to him, "I said got it."
He rolls his eyes, "Got it, mister power bottom."
"Oh, you are so lucky my foot can't reach your face right now." I grumble, sitting down at the foot of his bed.
"Like you'd ever hurt me." He scoffs, "No one can hurt me."
I can't help but laugh out, "No one? What about the bloke that hit you with a football? He didn't hurt you, huh?"
He kicks my thigh and groans in response, pulling his duvet over his head.
"Ha-ha, I proved the infamous Jacob Bixenman W-R-O-N-G." I tease, only to receive another kick.
"You're a fucking loser." He mutters.
"And you're the one fucking the loser. Get over it." I lean backwards and lay down on his mattress, sighing lowly.
"Why are you so annoying?" He asks.
"Why are you so bitter?" I retort.
"Why are you so gay?" He ignores my question.
"Why are you so homophobic?" I glare at his figure hidden under his blanket.
I imagine his jaw clamping shut, not another word piping from his lungs. All is silent for a period's time where the air feels thick, all until he snores out.
He really fell asleep.
I sigh, getting up and making my way back to my room. He should be fine for the next few hours, his sleeps always seeming so long. Maybe that's because I'm always waiting on him. Always.
I text my friends to see what they're up to, Ty claiming that his mother misses me and that I just have to visit. I titter and assure the two that I will have to come see them soon. I write and draw little comic strips and read my personal favourites; I occupy my mind and hands until satan wakes back up, him up to his feet so stubbornly.
"Sit the fuck down." I groan.
Though, he is much stronger than me, scoffing and pushing passed.
"'m taking a piss." He mutters.
I roll my eyes and follow him to his washroom, him dropping his trousers and pissing into the porcelain bowl.
"Oui, what's so interesting about me pissing?" He snaps.
I narrow my eyes at him, "I'm simply making sure you don't pass out, your highness."
"Or you want my dick." Jacob chuckles, finding himself oh so comical.
"Fuck off."
"Not today, sweet cheeks." He says and steps out of his trousers, starting up a shower.
"If you fall in there I'm not picking you back up." I smile.
He returns a fake pout, "I'm so worried."
He steps into the tub and pulls the curtain, hiding himself from my wandering eyes. I act as if I couldn't give a shit, but find myself staying close enough to him that if he were to fall and die, I could get him back up. I mean, I don't care, but it would be a shame if he died before rent was due.
-
a/n: tell me something going on in your life
