Snippets Of Another Life

At The Hearth Of It All

Jacob shivered under his blanket and tucked his freezing hands deeper underneath his jumper. The heating in the house had gone out a few days ago and now the cold was starting to get to him. None of the children had any experience with 21st century boilers and heaters, and electricians were scarce around the holidays. He could already feel himself catching a nasty cold and prayed they could hire someone to come fix things soon. Needing some distraction from the temperature he got up from the couch with a huff, dragging his blanket along with him. Pins and needles fizzed through his body with every step he took, making him stumble and fall.

The bookshelf was modern, a sleek design his mother loved and his father tolerated. The books on the shelf were worn and old in contrast, the lettering peeling off in places. He'd stacked his father's ornithology books in a neat pile and placed them in a box next to the shelf, along with his mother's romance novels and the photo albums. Miss Peregrine had brought almost an entire library with her when she and the children moved in. Jacob was slowly making his way through all of them, wanting to catch up on all of the peculiar history he had missed.

Just as he was settling back onto the couch with a heavy leather bound volume, he heard a cough from the other side of the room. He looked up to see Emma standing in the doorway, two steaming hot mugs in her hands. She crept over to Jacob, avoiding the squeaky floorboards. Wordlessly, she set one of the mugs down on the coffee table and held on to the other one as she sat down on the couch, pulling her legs underneath her.

Jacob pulled up the blanket, inviting Emma to settle in next to him. She did just that, still clutching the mug in both her hands. The smell of hot chocolate made its way to Jacob, the steam from the mug slightly dampening his face. Emma hid her face under the blanket, giggling softly.

"Are you alright?", Jacob whispered softly, concern lacing his voice.

"I'm sorry, I'm just... I don't know." Emma sighed deeply, jostling the hot chocolate in her mug. She quickly took a sip to prevent it spilling over. When Jacob continued to stare at her, clearly waiting for her to elaborate, she avoided his gaze with another shaky exhale.

He gave her another worried glance before taking the hint and leaning over to the coffee table. He grabbed his own mug, giving Emma some space to reflect on whatever was troubling her. He shifted a bit to accommodate both the heavy book and Emma's arms in his lap. After a while the both of them managed to settle into a comfortable position, and Emma sighed again. Jacob stopped midway through flipping a page when she quietly spoke up.

"I still haven't quite wrapped my head around actually being here, with you, in this house, in this time. It's all so new to me. I still feel like I'm dreaming sometimes."

"So do I", Jacob confessed. His voice seemed to carry further in the silence of the dark living room, or maybe it was the nerves raging through his body. "I can't believe you're here with me, all of you. But I'm glad you are. I wouldn't trade this" -he waved his empty mug around in a gesture somehow meant to encompass all they'd been through together- "For the world."

"You promise?"

Jacob felt his chest constrict at how tiny and fragile Emma sounded, a long shot from the unbreakable girl he'd come to know.

"I promise." He pressed a kiss into Emma's hair. All the tension disappeared from her body as she let herself sag into Jacob's side. He only drew her in closer, keeping his lips pressed to the top of her head.

Emma finished her hot chocolate -now gone cold- in comfortable silence, only interrupted by the turning of pages. After a while, Jacob started pointing out passages to her that he'd read out softly, asking for elaboration or words he didn't know. Emma was glad to provide, and soon the book lay abandoned on the table as Emma told story after story about everything and anything. her voice was like a fire to Jacob, who'd long since forgotten how cold he had been earlier that evening. Emma had one hand under his jumper, the other wrapped tightly around his, fingers intertwined. He felt the vibrations of her voice rumble through his chest with every breath from where she'd laid her head.

That's how Bronwyn found them the next morning, tangled up in each other like vines. She smiled softly, allowing herself a minute to admire the two of them and their newfound peace. She readjusted the blanket around them and slowly padded out of the room, smile still firmly etched onto her face.

She was sure she'd get used to living here.