random oc stuff

this took me like 2 hours

Teen drunk party

Anxiety

Jack and Jax

There was a party.

I was forced to go.

I guess it's fine though.

I sit silently with some cheap beer in  hand

I look over at a weeping boy in the corner.

No, he wasn't actually crying, I could see it in his eyes though.

I walked over to him introducing myself.

He mumbled his name quietly.

Ajax.

I nodded and asked him what's wrong.

He looked at me like I was crazy.

It wasn't fine.

A person came up to me.

I don't wanna be here.

I wanna be at home.

Anxiety is pooling up in my stomach like flock of birds stuck in a single cage.

He told me his name.

Jack.

I mumbled mine back.

Was it really that obvious that didn't want to be here?

Maybe.

I put my hand out.

He hesitantly took it.

I took him to an empty room and sat on the bed tapping the space beside me.

He sat next to me.

I asked him if he was okay.

He looked down and told me how he didn't want to be here.

He told me he had anxiety.

He cried.

I told him everything.

And he just listened.

Nobody ever listened.

He comforted me when I cried.

This person gave me more support than anyone ever had.

I asked him how he knew I was breaking he told me that it was my eyes.

He told me my eyes are beautiful.

And he apologized.

He asked me how I knew he was breaking.

I told him.

His eyes, his gorgeous eyes.

I apologized for calling his eyes beautiful in case he felt uncomfortable.

He asked me why.

I told him.

He said he liked it with an innocent gleam in his eyes.

At that moment I knew I had to protect him.

2 years later -

Another party.

Great.

Still shaking.

Still crying.

Still relying on Jack.

Tears falling down at the party.

Saddest little baby in my eye.

The poor boy is shaking and crying a waterfall.

He looked so helpless in my arms.

Even so, he was strong even if he refused to believe it.

Helpless.

Unreliable.

Incapable.

Weak.

Feeble.

It's been years and I still can't help but cry.

And even so, he stayed all these years.

Maybe I am doing something right.

He asked me if I was tired of taking care of him.

That one line completely shattered my heart.

I said no.

He looked shocked.

He nuzzled himself further into my chest.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Another fight.

More bruises.

More scars.

More regrets.

I don't care to change my daily schedule of getting my ass kicked.

I saw the guy who helped me at the party.

He was beaten up.

He looked defeated almost, broken.

I rushed over to him.

He looked at me and smiled despite his condition.

I saw the boy I saw at the party.

He went over to me.

I smiled at him.

He looked puzzled but kneeled beside me checking my wounds.

I checked his wounds and helped him to the nurse.

He had the most charismatic smile and personality.

He talked me the whole time and made me smile for once.

He smiled at me.

It made my heart feel fuzzy.

And made me want to make him smile more.

-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-

- two years later-

Another fight.

Typical.

More trauma and pain.

But he's still here to help.

The whole time he smiled at me.

I smiled back.

He did it again.

It hurt me.

But I smiled for him.

He smiled back.

I patched him up.

He patched me and leaned my head in his chest.

Letting myself go.

He let his tears fall.

Saddest little baby in my eye.

So recklessly.

But lovable.

I'll help him for as long as I live.

violetstar246