Beautiful Scars (A Jack Barakat Fanfic)

32). Hold My Hand

I want to rewrite this soon, after I finish my other book Cold and finish exams.

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Opening my eyes, I blink at the blinding light before pulling the blanket up over my face to cover it. Staying under the blanket, I close my eyes trying to fall back asleep but I can't. I wish I could, I was having a good dream.

Pulling the red blanket down, I stare at the ceiling of Jack's parent's house. I didn't suspect to be here again, it smells the same, and I can hear Jack's mom singing in the kitchen. For once I felt safe, curled up on their living room couch.

Sitting up, I cringe at the pain in my foot as I get up. I'm wearing some of Jack's old clothes, his hoodie sleeves cover my hands. "Ow." I hear a groan coming from the floor, and I look down to see my feet on Jack's stomach.

Stepping over him, I stumble for a moment before regaining my balance. Jack's sprawled across the floor next to the couch, his eyes only just open. "Good morning." I yawn, stepping past him and into the kitchen.

"Hey, Mrs Barakat." I greet, limping into the kitchen and sitting at their small table.

"Nora, you're awake." She smiles, holding up a spatula. "I thought you kids would want some breakfast, you came in quite late last night."

"Is someone cooking bacon?" Jack asks, dragging his feet as he enters the kitchen, he's still half asleep. "I love you, mom." He continues, flopping down in the seat next to me as he sees his mom cooking.

"You've always been a momma's boy," I smirk and Jack stares at me for a moment like he was only just registering I'm real.

"No."

"Don't lie," I smile and he rests his head on his hands, staring at me with big brown eyes.

"What are you two going on about?" Mrs Barakat questions, waving her spatula around again.

"Nothing." Jack cuts in, not wanting to admit it. "I had a weird dream." He continues, watching me curiously.

"About?"

"You, me, Alex, and Frank Sinatra, at this petting zoo."

"Frank Sinatra?"

"Yeah, I have no idea why, but anyway we were getting chased and there was this cliff. I don't know where Frank Sinatra went, but it's the three of us on this cliff and you and Alex jump but I can't." He continues, recalling the hazy memory of his dream.

"Did you eat cheese or something before going to bed? Isn't that meant to make your dreams weird?" I ask.

"Nope. What about you? Have a weird dream?"

"A bad dream." I clarify, smiling at him. Jack blinks at me, his long eyelashes looking particularly feminine this morning. He had a habit of getting words out of me without doing anything, I feel like I could tell him anything.

Except for I love you.

"Nightmare?" He questions, little wrinkles forming on his forehead as he frowns at me. His hair has flopped it's self over his face, and yet he still looks serious.

"No." I laugh, and I can see him think of what's worse than a nightmare.

"A sexual dream?" He whispers, raising an eyebrow, being careful so his mom doesn't hear.

"No, you pervert."

"Uh, well I'm stumped. This feels like a riddle, what's worse than a nightmare?"

"Life?"

"Wow, that's dark. It seems like a Batman quote."

"Or one of those emo quotes." I inquire and Jack smiles for a moment before remembering what he was trying to work out.