His Name Is Jake Saunders

The Tin Man Had A Heart All Along

"Come, lay down here," I instructed Jake. He did as I said and plonked down on the sofa, holding his nose. "Rest your head back. Here—" I placed a cushion on the sofa head rest "—now put your head back."

A handkerchief one of the girls were miraculously carrying around came in handy when Jake's nose started gushing red. After the fight, it turned out Luke got in a couple of punches more than Jake, or landed some significant ones. Either way, it was Jake that needed the most attention. Once we were thrown out of the club like ratchet party-goers that usually lose their shoes and all, I shoved Luke into a cab and sent him on his way. Rage kept burning his white face red, spreading like a virus down to his neck. Wild, furious eyes still etched into my mind. I had never seen Luke react that way. Or act like that way on his own accord. Ever. It just showed me what little I knew about him.

I hopped into my scrawny kitchen, grabbed the silver handle of my old fridge and pulled back with all my might. I dove into the freezer and somehow gathered enough ice to laden a towel with it.

"Argh!" Jake moaned.

"One second," I called. "Just hold on, keep your head back and relax."

Jake scoffed. "Relax. Easy for you to say, you're not the one bleeding from your nose."

"Well, I didn't ask for you to fight him for me."

"What?" he asked in surprise, lowering his head so fast he caught a head rush. "Ugh!" he tipped his head back. "What was I supposed to do just let him grope you?"

I rolled my eyes. "Don't be so dramatic."

"Don't be so under-dramatic, or whatever," he quickly countered. "I was really—argh!" I removed the bloody handkerchief and pushed the ice onto his nose.

"Sorry," I mumbled. Then, I cleared my throat. "You were really what?"

Jake sighed. "Nothing."

"No, what? Tell me. You were really pumped to hit a guy?"

"No."

"Well then what?" I pressed.

"I—ugh," he rolled his eyes, hesitant to go on, "I was worried about you, is all. Just, I didn't like the way he was handling you. Even the first time I met him, I didn't want him touching you. I want you—I don't know."

I moved my face away so he couldn't see me smiling. I didn't want him to think I was so proud of the way he defended me, but I had to admit, it was kind of sweet. "You want me...?"

"I just wanted you to be safe and not with him. Or anyone. And I'm not going to apologise for fighting with Duke."

"Luke," I corrected.

"Whatever." Then I heard him mutter, "Should be Douche."

I smiled again. "So, that means you were kind of jealous, huh?"

"What? Me? Jealous? No," he cackled. Each word sounding more high-pitched and projected than the other. Then, there was a thunderous silence.

My smile grew wider it started hurting my cheeks. "So you're not jealous?" I asked again, making sure.

He shook his head. "I just want you..."

"You want me...?" I asked when he trailed off.

He lifted his head to face me, and I could see, from the uncovered half of his face, most of the crimson had been soaked up by the handkerchief. His dark hair in a disarray, but his eyes untouched gold.

"I just want you." He shrugged. "That's it. So there, maybe I am jealous. What gives?" he peered down at his knees, seemingly ashamed he had emotions.

Meanwhile, I was just glad the Tin Man really did have a heart all along.

I slapped his knee then, hopping up from the sofa and holding out my hand. "Come on, let's go to the hospital. That nose isn't getting any better."

Smiling, with soft brown eyes, Jake took my hand and I pulled him up. And hey, look at that, he ain't so heavy with that heart after all.