Stay

Chapter twenty three.

By the time the sun begins to rise, I have planned out the whole day. Jessie's always been busy with something whether it be looking after Lola, schoolwork or dealing with his strict father, he's probably never had a day to himself. Well, today is going to be all about him, a relaxed day.

His eyes begin to open as he wakes from his slumber.

Feeling drained, I move a cup of hot chocolate closer towards him, the steam still rising and the beverage still piping hot, which is lucky considering I made it about ten minutes ago, and the attic feels like a freezer.

Jessie groans as he sits up against the wall, his back most likely aching from sleeping on the cold, hard wood. His eyebrows furrow as his hands sink into the feathered duvet I placed on him last night and the pillow, meant for me, next to him.

"This was meant for you." He croaks.

"I thought you needed it more." He takes the princess mug sat beside him and takes a sip before glaring at me.

"You went downstairs?" He spits, his face filled with fury. "You shouldn't have done that." I know I shouldn't, but I can't help but feel afraid. He wouldn't hurt me...

I think.

"I, Uh, have made plans if you would like to come with me." I stutter, trying to defuse the anger.

"I'm not sure, might just do some painting today." He mumbles.

"No!" I pause, realising the new, harsh tone I have taken. "Sorry, I just want you to come with me."

Jessie lets out a sigh before grabbing some clothes from a little stool in the corner next to the easel.

"Just let me change my top real quick." Instantly I turn around, keeping my back to him as he changes, my face burning a hot red. Hopefully his mood will lighten up throughout the day, it was probably the lack of sleep affecting us both.

He then leaves the attic and I follow without a word.

I've never seen him walk so fast until his dad calls us out and Jessie stops dead in his tracks.

"Who's this young lady?" He asks, his voice oozing a false softness.

"Just a friend." Jessie grabs my arm and we walk out.

"Friends don't stay over!" Mr Oliver shouts from the living room.

"Great, thanks for that."

My heart sinks as the blame gets piled onto me.

I was only trying to be nice.