Unanswered

Chapter: Keep it PG

I sit stiffly with my back against the wall, afraid to make even the tiniest movement. Hell, I'm barely breathing at this point. Locking my jaw, I drop my gaze to the top of a brunette head resting lightly against my ribcage, her entire face still partially obscured by her already limp hands. One small shift, and they'd fall freely to her lap. I damn wish they would, so I can finally see her face.

Inwardly groaning, I gently thump the back of my head to the wall while closing my eyes. How did we end up like this, with her snuggling into my side? I could swear I left enough space between us when I sat here a while ago. Not that I'd rather she curl up into a ball all by herself. She can rest all her weight on me for as long as she needs. But this somehow feels... wrong.

She just fucking opened up about Nick. She just wished he was here and cursed the universe for taking him away from her. Having her this close to me in such a vulnerable state, after baring her anguish for me to witness, I'm left with this heavy guilt in the pit of my gut and an awful bitterness in my mouth.

My hands ball into tight fists at my sides as I breathe through my nose.

Jo's soft, broken whimper pulls me out of my concentrated effort to become a living, breathing statue. I open my eyes to her dropping her hands and burrowing her cheek into my chest. My entire body stiffens some more, anticipating her reaction once she realizes our position. She'll freak the fuck out and kick me out. That, I am most definitely sure of.

Only she doesn't.

She breathes steadily, and her eyes, where tears still cling to her thick lashes, are close to the world. She's passed out.

Tension dissipates from my body as I sag against the wall. I don't take my eyes off her for a long time. As I guessed, her face is flushed and puffy from all her crying, her nose a bright red, and strands of her hair are plastered to her temple. Stripped of any makeup products, the freckles lightly dusting the bridge of her nose have never been more prominent to me before. But maybe that's also because I'm unintentionally inching closer for inspection.

I freeze, then backpedal by swiftly leaning away to create more space between us.

"Stop moving..." Jo grumbles her complaint under her breath, frowning at my insolence.

I bite back the chuckle threatening to slip out of my mouth. "Let's move you to your bed, yeah?"

She partly groans in protest and partly nods in agreement. Other than that, she shows no sign or intention of vacating her current position.

Well, that sounds like a solid yes to me.

Gently, I scoop her off the floor and stand on my feet. Crossing the distance to her room through what's left of the maze of boxes is short and uneventful. Her bedroom is lit dimly by a single lamp, and the soft glow casts shadows over the neatly made bed, as well as the rest of the space. It's clean and smells lightly of something floral.

Stop fucking around, Hero.

Shaking my head, I make quick work of tucking Jo into her bed and leaving her room with the door shut. My chest expands with a lungful of air as I steady my feet on the floor.

Now that I'm sure Jo's safe, I should head out. It'll be daylight in just a few hours, but exhaustion hasn't seemed to catch up with my body just yet. I sweep my gaze around the living room, a resolution already squaring my shoulders and propelling me toward the nearest taped donate box. It takes me a few trips back and forth to the truck to load all the boxes except for the small one that contains very few of Nick's belongings that Jo decided to keep for herself.

"There," I say to myself as I place the relatively smaller box right beside Jo's bedroom door.

Before the first rays of the sun start to filter through the window, I kick off my shoes, lock Jo's front door, and lie on the couch to catch some shut eyes. Hard labor is nothing new to me. It comes with my chosen field. My body's been through tougher shit, but I'd rather get a few hours of sleep than nothing today; it'll be a three-hour drive to and from Northam.