Twenty-Nine // J.G.

nineteen.

Day 16.

It was bright yellow and stood out against the vast blue backdrop of the ocean. On top of it, a big smiley face was plastered across the material, and it stared me down as Jack led me to the shore.

When I told Jack that I wished I could fly last night, I didn't think he'd take it so seriously, since I meant it as just a silly dream that everyone had some form of. Now he was going to try and make me do the closest thing to flying aside from sitting in an airplane: we were going parasailing.

"Jack, this isn't what I meant by wanting to fly." I muttered, clutching onto his arm as I observed another pair of people already soaring over the water, their exclaimed reactions carrying across the waves.

"You need to learn to let loose, Mar. Remember, relationships involve taking risks." He reminded me, a goofy grin twisting on his lips, I'm assuming, because he knew he had yet to be the one taking risks instead of me.

"I can let loose! I, uh–" I paused my walking and yanked him around to face me, and in a desperate attempt at stalling, I pulled my hair down from its prominent bun, shaking it out. "See! I don't even care about my hair flying in my face!"

Jack looked down at me with a gleam in his eyes, a smirk tugging at his lips as he crossed his arms in a sort of impressed manner. I almost began to feel inferior under his watchful gaze, but I withheld my uneasiness by averting my thoughts towards how much I didn't want to get on that thing.

"W-Why are you looking at me like that?" I wondered aloud, feeling my body involuntarily shrinking in comparison to his broad, confident stature.

"Because you're beautiful." He answered without having to think for even a second, which was another thing we differed in. I thought I had swayed his decision as he took a step forward, but instead of walking back towards the parking lot, he caught my chin between his pointer finger and thumb and tilted my head up. "And I know you wanna get on that thing with me." All charm within his face washed away as he gave me a cheeky smile and grasped my hand, tugging me down the sand.

"Jack," I whined, using my other hand to try and pry his fingers off, "can't we do some other risky thing? I promise I'll do whatever else there is!" Even with such a bold offer, he didn't give in to my bargaining, but he did stop walking and turned around to face me again. He placed his large, calloused hands on my bare shoulders, and I could feel every rough patch on his palms that came from holding a microphone so tightly for nights on end.

"What are you scared of?" He pushed.

I didn't know how to answer him because as far as I'm concerned, I really had nothing to be afraid of; heights didn't faze me, I now know how to swim, and I trusted Jack. Was it an unconscious decision to go against it just because he wanted to do it? I couldn't decide, but once I looked into his curious eyes, I realized I was facing the one thing I feared: him. Yesterday I was so goddamn vulnerable that I didn't even want to say no to something that made me uncomfortable, and that alone made me want to reconsider how much I was letting him affect my decisions. I didn't want to let myself feel things for him; I couldn't.

"I'm not scared." I finally answered, shrugging his hands off.

"Then what is it?" He didn't seem to want to let go of the conversation. In fact, just like every other day of this damned trip, he was amused as ever while I sulked in a puddle of annoyance.

"Jack, I don't wanna go on that thing, can we just leave it at that?" I snapped, yet even the coldest of tones couldn't bruise his determination.

"Sure, if you tell me the real reason you don't wanna go." He smirked, his slender fingertips raveling around my waist. "Don't you wanna know what it's like to fly?"