Troye's pov
"Ladies and gentlemen, Wrabel." The speaker lady's voice booms out of my mobile, setting my room with a sense of excitement. It's only seven am and I'm up drawing and listening to Stephen Wrabel, god help me. Jacob is splayed out across my bed with a pillow held over his ears, trying to go back to sleep. Terribly rude of me, I know. But he insisted that it was fine as long as I played my soft playlist, definitely not his hard rock one.
"Hi Kesha," He giggles, "Surprise."
It's the sleepy boy I'm drawing right now, shading and carving out his dazzling cheekbones, careful to get the features just right.
"I love you so much, um, I wanted to play one of my favourite songs of yours. Um- because it's very cliche but you're a warrior... and I love you, we all love you."
Though, I am careful not to draw in his most noticeable features just yet in case Jacob decides to go snooping. You know, those magnificent almost always relaxed puppy eyes, his chiselling jawline, and that messy raven painted hair I have to refrain from playing with ninety percent of the time. It's most hard not to impulsively drag my lead down and draw those pretty lips I daydream about most often. It's almost a need to, that what if he were to drop dead at any moment. I wouldn't have enough energy to finish the portrait, I would be in worse than condition than I was when Mum died. I would have no one. Of course, I'd have Dad, but he can't always help me the way I need it. (Maybe I do need help...) It would be like Dylan all over again, minus the absolute heartbreak and almost-attempt. My heart wouldn't break if Jacob died. It would hurt, yes, it would hurt so, so much. But I wouldn't be heartbroken. I would hide away and cry for days upon days, sobbing 'til night with my head clutched to a pillow, but I wouldn't break. I would crack. And then when I finally felt alright enough, I would pick this drawing back up and try to finish it. Alas, it would have been months later and my memory would have gone to rubbish... I don't remember what his lips look like. He would be gone and I wouldn't remember what his lips look like. Even if I did try over and over again to draw similar pairs of lips like his, it would never be exact and I would never be satisfied. I would toss the portrait and crack again.
Instinctively as my heart swells at the thought, I slide a piece of paper out of my drawer and sketch his pretty lips.
Snapping out of it, I flinch as I hear Wrabel's voice heighten as he nails the highs of Kesha's hit song. God save me, that kid has talent.
Picking my phone up, I quickly copy the link to the song and paste it into my twitter. I type out 'much love to all of my favourite warriors, thank u for the cover @ wrabel' and press send before i can wuss out on posting my opinion onto the internet. Turning back to my portrait, I set my playlist back up from the corner of my eye and hum along to the song.
What I least expected to happen next was Dad to peek his head in and whisper a 'psst', but that's just what happened. I tilt my head to the side, humming a 'hmm?'
"Wake up Jacob, I have two hours free before I gotta get to work, let's go get his stuff from his sister's." He whispers in a hushed voice, gesturing to the sleepy boy on my bed.
I nod and wave him off, "We'll be out in ten."
Dad nods and gently shuts my door closed, pattering around the house with his exceptionally squeaky rubber shoes on. I set my pencil down and store my drawing down in my drawer. I stand up and crack my back just to step over to my bed and sit down on the floor next to it, right at eye level with the boy who's dozed off. Carefully, I pick the pillow up off of his head and set it to the side. I clear my throat and place my hand on his shoulder, gently shaking him. To much avail, he doesn't budge. I pull my bottom lip through my teeth and sigh, deciding to see if a more shakier rock to the boy will do... Nope, nothing. I slip my fingers crossed to his that are held to his chest and try to squeeze the boy awake. It's basic hand holding, this kid should be awake by now. Absolutely no response. Huffing, I tilt his head up to the ceiling to see if the sunlight would wake him... ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Not a thing.
Getting a tad fed up with this boy's stubborn mind palace of sleep, I jump on top of him and crash my lips against his. He jumps awake, his eyes widening as I bite down on his bottom lip. I pull back and give him a cheeky smile, "You wouldn't wake up."
His confused and surprised look subsides a bit and he nods.
"What time is it?"
"Seven am, Dad only has two hours before he has to get to work so we're gonna get up real quick and get dressed, aye? And we're going to go get your stuff from Angelina's." I nod with a questionable look as to ask if he understands.
"Really? Alright," Jacob mutters and flips us over crawling off of me.
I scrunch my nose up at him as to ask him 'how dare you?' Jacob cracks a smile and mocks me, mirroring my look. He turns away and steps over to the closet and without much consideration, pulls out my most casual pairs of clothes. And of course matching ones, as if we couldn't appear to be any less of an elder married couple already. Have mercy.
He tosses the Thrasher shirt at me along with a pair of ripped jeans, shimmying out of his clothes and into new ones. I almost object wearing such ratty clothes to his flat, then I remember, it's Jacob's old home. I shouldn't feel the need to prep myself up and dive into my most appealing clothes, it's just Jacob... I hope.
"Say, you don't think Jody is going to be there, do you?" I ask while jumping into my tight ripped jeans, hopping around to get them on. Of course he gave me the smaller pair. I mean, of course, he's much larger than me, but yeesh these are squeezing mama's thighs.
Jacob looks at me with uncertain eyes, "I don't know, probably."
I nod and gulp, beginning to look far too much into this seemingly small trip to get Jacob's belongings. This could turn into Jacob getting his tush handed to him.
With Dad exclaiming for us to hurry up, we scatter around for socks and hop into them while running to the bedroom door to get to the washroom. Jacob gets there first, whispering an 'aha!' to me and swinging the door open. I narrow my eyes at him, childishly pushing past and running to the washroom, squealing like a little girl. With Jacob right behind me, we scramble around in the loo and clutch our toothbrushes, wetting them and applying just the right amount of paste to them.
"You're so gonna lose, sucker." I murmur as I shove my toothbrush in my mouth, lunging a centimetre closer to him in a playful faked threat of intimidation and backing up.
He scoffs as he plunges his brush in his mouth, quick to scrub around his mouth.
"In your dreams, Troye." He mumbles through foam with a determined look on his face.
I brush up, down, and around town in my mouth and clean myself of the horrific features that are bacteria, morning breath, and I don't know man, my dignity? With my funny faces I'm making in the mirror and shortness of breath from running in here, I obviously don't have much of any dignity left.
In no time we're both spitting up foam and splashing water on our faces. I get a head start and run out of the washroom, headed straight for the living room to beat him in our little race to the front door. Jacob, being the sneaky and clever boy he is, pulls me back before I can make it out and pins me to the wall. He flicks his eyes up to mine desirably and plants a short yet hot kiss to my lips, trailing his hand to my cheek. I breathe in sharply, knocking my head against his as I press back rougher than him. Jacob chuckles and leans back, pulling my bottom lip back with him between his lips and letting go, watching intently as my lip clasps back into place. I peck his lips once and nudge him back until the wall, darting out of the hallway and into the living room, straight to the door.
"Beat you, Bix. Eat it." I giggle, slipping on my shoes and standing up proudly in triumph. Showed him, didn't I?
"Sod off, Sivan, I'll get you next time."
-
a/n: oooooo curious lil question... how did you find this story and psh if you really want to say, what do ya really think of it?
in other news, my three-legged cat is learning how to walk again and i'm so happy for him. he's so sweet and awh
nighty night angels, see you in the next chapter. xx
