Our Demons (Jacksepticeye)

Day 7

Word count: 1527

In the morning, you explained the Miles situation to Jack as you were getting dressed and tying up your hair. Miles identified as a guy, so you reminded Jack to use the proper pronouns. The smallest things make the biggest difference. When you held Miles as he cried yesterday, he hasn't told you much of what happened. The gist of the story was that he was having a tough transition as far as accepting himself, especially since he was less than a year on testosterone treatment and was constantly being misgendered (on accident and on purpose).

At breakfast, you made sure to look everyone in the eyes when you used male pronouns to refer to Miles, hoping they'd just catch on. You saw him smile in your peripheral vision. Even though he was only a couple years younger than you, he was short and looked around 17 years old. It was then that you decided Miles was your little brother until further notice. Louise became your sister days ago, of course. Dan and Phil were an issue. They couldn't both be your brothers, because... you know, they were together. Oh well, moving on.

Out in the garden again, Jack followed you around as you stroked the flowers and he rambled on about not being able to wait to play whatever video game.

"You really love video games," you noted absentmindedly.

"I do, yeah. It's my passion I guess," he chuckled. "And yours is art?"

You nodded with a smile. You went over to Jack and hugged him tightly, melting against his body. He hugged you back, of course, even tighter.

He laughed, "woah, what's this for?"

"I love you so much," you reminded him. You could feel his lips turn into a smile as his face glided up your shoulder to your neck, placing soft kisses. You giggled and hunched your shoulders, playfully pushing him off of you as he fought to kiss you again. You let him kiss your lips, then turned to go to inside. He grabbed your wrist.

"Come here for a sec," he suggested. You cocked your eyebrow. "No, I'm not gonna do anything," he chuckled. "Come on, I promise you'll like it."

You rolled your eyes and allowed him to drag you around the garden. He stopped in front of a fountain. You sat on the side as Jack kneeled down in front of you. He started to roll up the bottom of your jeans and it hadn't registered in your head what he was planning, even as he began to do the same to his own jeans. He grabbed your wrists and pulled you up, then practically threw you over his shoulder.

You tried to stay semi-quiet as you bursted into laughter, asking him what the hell was he doing. He took a few steps before setting you down. The cool water went almost halfway up your calf. You squealed and held onto Jack's arms to steady yourself.

"It's a bit cold," he admitted. Jack maintained eye contact as he bent down and scooped up a handful of water, throwing it in your direction. The water got all over your shirt.

You squealed again, but bent down and did the same, soaking the front of his jeans.

"Truce! Truce!" he yelled, realizing that it would be awkward if someone noticed both of your clothes were soaking wet. Plus, the water was cold and made the fabric unpleasantly stick to your skin. With the remaining time you had outside, your clothes should mostly dry.

After you'd climbed out of the fountain, you noticed Jack staring down. You followed his gaze to where his shirt clung to his stomach. You could tell he gained a little weight, just a little, but this was great considering his disorder. You held out your hands, getting Jack's attention. You showed a sad smile and he took your hands. You pulled him out and into a hug, telling him about a thousand times that you loved him. That he could get through this, that you both could get through this.