A/N I'm going to be on YouNow right after you read this long chapter so please go to my twitter(@90ina55) so we can talk about sex:), jk.
"What do you write about?" Jack asks me as he leans his arms on the hood of his car. He tilts his head in innocent curiosity as my head swarms. He didn't want to go in the field, and I didn't want to stay in the car- so, we decided that we'd sit on the roof. It was a pretty good idea, actually. "I mean, lately." He elaborates.
It takes me moments to think of a simple one word answer because, Jesus, I write a lot.
"Everything." I tell him.
"Like, what though?" He pushes.
"Just everything."
"Be specific." He demands before scolding himself, "Please."
I smile and fold my hands before setting them in my lap, he watches me. He doesn't understand, I literally write about everything. It's actually kind of stupid. It could be about something I saw and I wanted to relate it to something else or just how I feel in the moment to get my mind off of things.
"I don't know. Not about brown being my favorite color, though." I slowly raise my gaze to meet his.
His eyebrows go up before they slouch again and his face goes red faster than I expected. I grin.
"How did you see that?" He groans and looks down at his legs.
"Mr. Sander's gave me manuscripts because I visited his office. It was good, really good."
He shakes his head and looks away from me, "That is way too cheesy. I know I like being cliche with you but writing paragraphs about your stupid eyes is embarrassing."
He huffs a breath and for a moment, he actually seems annoyed, but his grin goes against the possibility.
"Off of me and back to you," He announces, obviously hating me calling him out. He should be happy with what he wrote, it's not like it was for me, it was just about me. And yes, that's sweet, but it's also talent. A vague talent, but a talent. "I'm asking what you write about because I don't know what'd it be. Like, do you write about things in New York? I feel like writers need to travel." He says and picks his drink up, sucking from the straw.
I slowly shrug, taking his words in. I would like to travel but the signings that I have had and have coming up aren't that far from New York, I just use my imagination when I write. That's it.
"I think that experimentation is just an excuse for people to act like they know more than a regular being." I say and he stares at me.
He raises an eyebrow as if he's considering my statement, "Okay. Maybe. But, if you wanted to write a story that was based in Venice, wouldn't you want to go there instead of just looking it up online?" He questions.
I roll my head back in smile, "Venice is so pretty." I move off the topic a little bit.
He doesn't speak for a few moments as I look at the dark sky, "I know." He says.
"But, I guess you're right." I sigh and look at his skinny legs next to mine, "I don't have enough money to just travel wherever I want, though." I lightly laugh.
"Not yet." He says.
I ignore his statement and we begin to talk for hours. Too much about why he all of a sudden has this interest in writing whatever he wants, he said that he doesn't want to be "seriously" published, he just wanted to see what would happen if someone liked it. He said that Sam's lack of participation in his class makes him want to try harder so he can get a better grade, which is... interesting?
And after he kept licking his manipulating lips, I found my mind trailing back to the empty hospital room earlier today. He kept talking about something funny that happened with one of the "fucking idiots" at the library, but I couldn't control how my knee was bobbing with impatience. Don't get me wrong, everything he says interests me and makes me want to listen to him more and more, but right now, something else interests me even more.
I bite my top lip and mentally punch myself for my dirty mind, I only have one when it comes to him. He stops talking for a few moments to stare at me and I begin to grow curious if it's that obvious how much I'm thinking about making out with him. No, it's not. I'm just sitting here.
"What are you thinking about?" He tilts his head in an innocent matter and my confidence fades but increases at the same time. He does some weird things to me.
I lift my knees up to my chest to sit in a different way. "How bad your breath smells." I say.
His shoulders raise in a simple giggle, the crinkles in his cheeks indenting. My chest always bubbles when I make him do that, he's so pretty. I expect him to say something witty but he only reaches to lightly grab the collar of my old t-shirt, instantly shooting excitement through my body. I sloppily move closer so I can kiss him, I hope that's what his goal was when he reached for me.
The gesture is all too quick and since we're still on the roof of his car, it's a bit unsteady, so I grab onto his shoulders to keep myself from falling, but he only smiles onto my mouth.
I didn't know what I expected when he started to kiss me for a second but I knew that with my hormones going more insane than they naturally do, it would wound up with me gripping my fingers in his hair.
I was right.
I'm on my knees, on a sleek and sort of slippery roof while he's still sitting, practically helpless but I just want more. Is it so much to ask for?
Our lips move together as if it's the last time they're going to and I grow more and more in love with how long his hair is getting, a lot more to grab.
Jesus, what has happened to me?
I can't answer that question as I take Jack's bottom lip in between my teeth and he whimpers like a baby. I've only ever heard the small, weak sounds when I'm the one to do something for him, but they're definitely my favorite.
"Baby," He breaths onto my lips and I nearly melt into his arms, "let's go in the backseat."
Backseat?
I lean my head away from his and note how his cheeks are completely flushed and he's practically out of breath. Is this what I looked like when he would do this to me?
He slowly turns his body, my hand in one of his still and he slides off the roof of the car. I bite my top lip as he holds his other palm up for me, I grab onto it before my feet hit the ground.
He opens the black, back seat door that looks exactly like the one I have in New York. I don't know what to do, I know getting into the damn car is probably logical, but instead, I just grab the collar of his sweatshirt and kiss him again.
I know he's surprised but his shoulders relax only seconds later, I just can't get enough of him right now. His hands squeeze my hips and I feel his leg lift up so he can put his foot on the step, my eyebrows pull together as if I could care about how he's planning on getting in the car.
Once he lifts himself up on his one leg, he practically throws me on the leather and I yelp like a stupid little girl. My face burns at the awkward sound but he only smiles, climbing all the way in and shutting the door behind him.
He slowly and sexily crawls up to hover his face above mine, and I swallow hard as he kisses my neck, then my cheek, then my nose.
"This feels like a dream," He says and I raise my hands to rest them on the curve of his hips, it does. "You're so hot," he moves his lips to my neck again, "and sexy, and funny, and nice, and intriguing, and kind of annoying, but you're witty too so it makes up for it and you're-"
"Jack." I breathe just to cut him off, only because I know he's going to ramble until he can't breathe and I'm flustered because his lips are trailing all over my sensitive skin.
Jack's POV.
Just as I'm about to apologize like the helpless idiot I am when it comes to her, she literally grabs my fucking dick and I freeze.
The saliva crawls up my throat and I swallow it back down, looking down in her innocent eyes as she watches the way I tense in her simple hand. Fuck.
I was already half hard when she was pulling my hair on the roof but now I'm complete wood as she moves her hand around me. Her other hand goes to the back of my neck so I can come closer to her and once I do, she puts her lips on my neck and my elbows threaten to give out. Jesus Christ. Don't fall on top of her.
"Can you um," She breathes on my ear and shivers shoot down my spine at her perfect, innocent voice.
"What?" I whisper back, it's not steamy and I'm pretty sure we're both a little chilly but I know that we're going to be drenched in sweat after whatever we're going to do.
"Let me, you know."
She doesn't give me much guess on what she's trying to say, but I just scoop my forearm under the small of her back, completely switching positions with her. I didn't think she'd actually be up for doing anything with her in control, didn't think she had it in her. But I'll let her have her fun, not for long though. She'll give in.
She smirks, mostly to herself now seeing that I'm completely at her will, and I grin up at how she looks like a complete goddess.
She's not doing anything besides, I'm guessing, going over the options of what she will be doing in her head. The hardness in my jeans goes further and further at all the possibilities.
Her hands slip under the material of my sweatshirt and I flick my gaze down just to watch them rome around, they're cold on my warm skin and my eyes flutter shut at her touch.
But, they shoot the fuck open when I feel her hips circle around me.
Ooh, Fuck.
I look at her face and her eyes are down between our bodies, focusing on what she's doing and how my stomach is flexing and tensing at her.
Her head rolls back at the friction between our bodies and I moan once I see her react to everything. We're an endless domino effect.
"Taylor..." I moan and stretch my neck out just to do something with myself. All I want to do is fuck the absolute shit out of her but I have a feeling that she has barely started teasing me.
She takes this opportunity to come back down to me and kiss the tender skin just below my neck, "Fuck." I drag as she swirls her devilish tongue around. She's still moving those hips of hers and it's not helping my sexual frustration at all.
I reach my hands up to cup her cheeks, placing her soft mouth on mine and she hums against my lips. She is so horny and I love it.
I sloppily move my mouth against hers and I grow fonder of the way our lips feeling against one another, if that was even possible.
"Please let me fuck you." I mumble and take no stop to continue kissing her, my dick is complete rock and it hurts every time I look at her.
"Not yet." She groans.
Woah. Okay.
I've had shameful and fucking sinful dreams about "dominant" Taylor just because I knew it was something to keep in a private file. Fucking shit, if she thinks that I'm going to survive with her actively talking dirty to me, she's insane. She will kill me tonight.
I slip my hand in between our bodies just so I can cup my palm under the sweetest part of her. The material of her sweatpants is really thick and that's another thing, she literally looks like she did when she was seventeen, innocent, little, but willing to do anything with me.
My eyes widen when she grabs my wrist, leading it away from how it makes her feel better than she'd like to admit. Confusion is obvious on my face and she smiles, but doesn't say anything.
Instead she moves her hands to my zipper and I immediately feel as if I'm going to explode. I can tell she's jittery and I don't want her to be, I'm under her control and she can do whatever she wants to me. It's always been like that, but she's never actually taken advantage of it.
"Relax." I trace my fingers on her covered thighs and she grins.
"I'm not nervous." She raises an eyebrow.
I retaliate her movements, going against what she's saying.
Her hand gropes me once again and I shut my mouth, the smirk completely disappearing from my face.
She bites the inside of her cheek, trying to hide the grin threatening to form on her face and I fight all my urges to flip us over again and pound the crap out of her.
When she shimmy's the stupid jeans down my legs, along with my boxers, I am completely humiliated at how hard I am, but then again, too horny to really care. As soon as Taylor's hand touches my dick for the first time in months, I let out a muffled moan and my legs tighten. Holy fuck.
I watch her every movement, studying how she looks at me like I'm the perfect one when it's the other way around by far. She only pumps me twice before sliding her perfect lips down me. Shit.
I am complete mush as I moan her name, so loud. I'm a whimpering mess and there's moans I didn't even know I could produce flying out of my mouth as she looks back up at me with her gorgeous fucking brown eyes. She is literally a devilish looking angel as she sucks me off and I come to the conclusion that I actually am the luckiest man in the entire world.
I grab her hair just to pull it out of her flawless face, getting a better look at how her tongue purposely flicks over that one specific vein that sticks out when my blood is flowing down there. She makes me fucking crazy.
She takes me out of her mouth with a faded pop and my eyes still never leave her. "Move up," She sweetly says and barely even demands, but I immediately use my left over muscle to scooch wherever the fuck she wants me to.
When my back is against the door, and I'm sitting up completely staring at beauty still pumping my dick in her hands, I know I'm going to cum, fucking soon.
She straddles my legs as she pumps myself in her two hands and I begin to think that this is the hottest thing she's ever done for me. This is both of our biggest fetish's and we both know it, just watching each other get all hot and bothered and it turns me on knowing I turn her on.
Her forehead rests on mine as she moves her hands faster and I whimper as we make such intense and hot eye contact. Fuck.
"Fuck baby," I begin and her eyes marginally widen at my voice, might as well make her soaked while we're here. "Your hands feel so good. You're so fucking good to me." I compliment her and she moans, I'm not even touching her. But she moans at my voice, and begins to move her hips just to create friction in her dripping spot.
I slip my hand in her pants this time, and she doesn't push it away just to seem sexy, because she is sexy. So sexy and somehow still pure and unique and beautiful to me.
Her eyes flutter shut but it's only seconds before they're open again, looking back into mine. Maybe it isn't a 'fetish,' maybe it's just because we're so fond of each other we can never get tired of the other, and I love being reminded that it's her doing this to me just as much as she loves being reminded that I'm doing this to her.
It's hot but it has to be something more than some stupid sexual desire. I assure you that years ago, when I would bang a girl, I would get tired of her midway through her orgasm and began to think about the next women I'd be fucking tomorrow. But Taylor fucking Greyson, no matter what she does, I will never get tired of anything she acquires. And it's always been like that, and I can't help but think that it will always be like that.
It's almost ridiculous to think about "getting tired" in the middle of Taylor fucking coming or moaning, because I can't even take my eyes off of her when she's telling me about what she did at work one day or how something made her laugh, let alone taking my eyes off her when she's screaming my name.
She slowly licks her lips, making my mind trail back to how moments ago they were wrapped around my dick, and now her innocent little hands are pumping it up and down. I know she's trying to keep a confident and straight face but her eyebrows are threatening to pull together and her lip is threatening to be bit at as I rub my fingers harder over the thin material of her underwear before putting my fingers on her wet clit. Fuck.
Her head rolls back in bliss and I kiss her neck and realize that if we don't do what we both need, I am literally going to fall apart and die in the backseat of my car.
"Stop." I croak out the back of my dry throat and to my surprise, she listens.
"What?" She looks worried.
I try to catch my breath as my eyes droop over my for sure dilated pupils. Her lips are swollen and her cheeks are flushed and her "pulled back" hair has now dropped down from the mess I made of it. She is so beautiful, it hurts my heart.
"I haven't made love to you in so fucking long and I'm gonna take control of that part, okay baby?" I tuck the lose strand sticking out of her ponytail back behind her ear. Her pretty eyes are dilated as well and she looks like a complete wreck, but a gorgeous, alive, and young wreck. A wreck that I made, and am about to happily and energetically fuck the life out of.
As soon as she nods, I take the stupid shit off of her body, forgetting to take a breath for myself like I always used to because seeing her chest exposed in front of me for some reason always makes me feeble.
She's wearing a white bra. Of fucking course. Not like that doesn't make her look any more innocent than she already does, Jesus Christ.
I kiss the top of the valley between her breasts and the transparent hairs on her skin stick up, I kiss again.
I rake my fingers up to reach the small strap of her bra and when I click it off, my sexual frustration reaches a whole new level.
"So beautiful." I compliment her and kiss the most sensitive part on her chest, making her grab my shoulders. I swirl my tongue around the now hard bud and look up at her as she loses her breath.
I slide my hands up and down the small curve of her hips just to feel all of her, because I might not get to next week.
Fuck, she's going to leave again soon.
When the realization hits me, I flip us over and she does that little yelp again. I reach my arm over the shotgun seat to get a condom out of the glove compartment, and when I hear the roar of a car, I quickly put my naked chest on hers so we're out of view.
The car passes in a split second and after a few moments, Taylor giggles. Of course she giggles.
"Shut up." I bashfully mumble with a fought grin on my face, sitting up again and undoing the stupid packet.
She continues to smile like the child she is and I watch her try to fight it off as I slide the silky material on. Only Taylor would be laughing during sex, she even gets me chuckling.
I slip her sweatpants and underwear off at the same time and admire how she looks bare and naked in front of me, smiling all while. She is relaxed and young and beautiful as she waits for me to take her, I love her so much.
"Did you know that vaginal muscles go back to normal after 'sexual routine' stops?" She raises her fingers to be more dramatic.
"Really?" I tilt my head in curiosity as I put my one hand by the side of her head, finding amusement in how she's talking to me as if she's my teacher when I'm seconds away from burying myself into her.
She nods with raised eyebrows, looking down quickly, and then back up.
I smile and kiss her nose, "Good thing I will be going very slow then, yeah?" I say as I slip myself into her without warning.
Her eyebrows pull together and her mouth falls open in a graceful, beautiful way. I let one, long moan slip from my mouth as the realization hits me: I haven't had sex in well over a year. Saying that I've "missed" the feeling of me and Taylor becoming one really doesn't justify any of my feelings right now.
I dig my head into the crook of her neck, she was right. She's insanely tight.
"Does it hurt?" My voice is complete rasp and it barely feels as if it's reached the surface. My mind travels back to the first time we ever did this in my room, only a few miles away from this spot. It's been a long time since then, but it feels longer than it actually was.
I wish I could feel her without a stupid fucking condom, but I'd rather this than have her become pregnant. I nearly cringe at the thought, but slip my mind away from the ugly situation.
"No." She says, "It just, it's-"
"Shh." I kiss where her neck and jaw meet and she shuts up. It's not like I was going to slam the shit out of her anyways, I mean, it'd feel good, for me, but not for her. And, watching her writher underneath me and hearing her small, weak breaths in my ear is better than any pleasure I have ever felt in my life. Also, if I make this last longer, than I'll remember it more next week.
My thrusts are slow and deep, every time I push all the way into her, she makes a quiet whimper. Her hands roam up and down my back and it feels amazing, she would never leave scratches like girls used to do to me, but she'll leave hickey's along my shoulders in which i'll be able to run my fingers over when she's gone.
"Oh, baby." I quickly and helplessly whine in her ear and she tenses at my voice.
Her hands grip onto my arm and I make sure that my breaths are right by her ear, just so she can hear what she does to me.
I'm already so close and we haven't even started yet, and hearing Taylor whine curse words isn't helping anything last longer.
"Are you gonna come?" I try my best do sound like the seductive douche I used to but it comes out as a deep whine. Not like I have to ask her, I can tell by the way her chest is crimson and how her stomach is heaving faster than the lead up to this.
She pushes a short and small, "Mhm," out of her mouth and I smile on her neck before placing my lips on hers.
I don't move them, I just set them there, because that's all I need to know she's there. I know the difference between her touch and anyone else's, it's simple.
I exit all the way out of her, only to slam hard back into her and she lets winces of pleasure escape the small slit in between her lips. I continue the same exact assault and I know she's craving more, by the way she raises her hands up to grab my hair. I love when she does that.
When she moans my name, I reach my hand down in between our bodies to rub her sensitive line of nerves and her mouth falls open. I refuse for us to come at the same time, I want to see her let lose because of the love I'm giving her.
"C'mon, baby." I egg her on as I suck the skin under her ear, "Come for me."
Those three words make her scream, hopefully not loud enough so those construction workers down the street can hear and come snooping around.
I admire the way her back arches off the small leather backseat and how she digs her finger tips into the muscle of my arm and when her eyes flutter open to meet mine, I go as well.
I dig my head into her neck when I come into the condom, letting a raspy, long moan drag from my lips.
I breathe deeply as I fall on top of her chest, resting my cheek under her collar bone. Jesus Christ.
She raises her hand to comb my messy hair and I close my eyes.
"I love you." She says and I sigh in deep happiness, and when she moves her hand to touch my bare butt, my eyes shoot open.
"Watch it." I mumble as I look up to see her sleepy eyes, what a beautiful mess.
She grins and rests her head back in damp laughter, "Sorry." She apologizes and as soon as I rest my cheek back on her boob, my phone rings. Awesome.
I roll my eyes and she lightly sighs, obviously not too annoyed because she just had my penis inside of her, so.
I groan loudly as I get up and flick my gaze around the black seat just to see if there's blood or anything. When there isn't, I mentally award Taylor's vagina.
"It's your dad." She says as she hands me my phone, slipping my sweatshirt over her head without asking. Not like she had to, but it feels nice that she knows she can.
My happiness fades when I do in fact, see 'David' lit up on my screen, though. I let it ring for a bit longer, slipping my shit on and seriously strugglingly to pull my underwear and skinny jeans on, ignoring Taylor's sarcastic comments about how my body is too long for the car.
I watch her pull her hair in a better pony tail, losing my trail of thought as those small hairs hand down in front of her ear.
"If you decline it he'll probably be suspicious. Answer and say that you're doing something, or something." She suggests and I blink, taking my admiring eyes off of her for a few songs.
I smirk, "smart. Juvenile, but smart."
I lick my lips and she rests her arm against the window before turning her head to look out at the empty field. It's not as pretty as the one that's being destroyed.
I cough and answer with a deep, "What?"
Taylor's POV.
I keep my gaze on the outside of the car, trying to make it seem like I'm not paying too much attention to their conversation, but once I hear the, "Where are you?" Realizing it's loud enough for me to hear, I pay more mind.
"Eating." He simply says and I cross my leg over the other. Great, now it hurts.
"Where?"
"Why the fuck do you need to know?" He spits and I suddenly get nervous, this isn't how I wanted him to talk. I turn my head to him and watch how already seems annoyed.
"Because Jenn Johnson spilled the beans about Taylor not being home."
What? Why? I spin my body completely to him.
Jack bites his lip and his eyes flick to me. He takes a deep, heavy sigh and his fist clenches. "So what if I'm with her?"
Shit.
I slap his knee hard and he jerks away slightly, obviously not giving a single hoot.
I hear a loud yell through the phone and I can't make out what he's saying, but Jack isn't flinching. "I don't care." He simply says and my anxiety is insane over my body.
"I didn't tell her dad about the entire thing with Johnson just so you two could reunite again. You're dangerous to her and everyone thinks so, I don't need you in jail and neither does your college." He's yelling but it's much more clear than before, Jack and I make confused and tight eye contact.
"You told her dad? Why?" His eyebrows pull together.
Jack probably didn't know at all or have any idea or even cared about who told anyone anything. Unlike me, I was lied to. Why did David tell my dad that? What is he trying to do?
"You two need distance and it's not good for either of you. Get home or I'll-"
"You'll what?" He eggs through the phone, "You'll fucking what? Call the police? Get me arrested? Because if that's the case, I'm a little confused on what you're trying to do."
I hear mumbles on the other line and I can't make it out. I squeeze his knee and mouth him to put it on speaker but he shakes his head, ugh.
"No, you're not talking to her." Jack spits. "This is all fucked up. You're fucked up. I'm twenty years old and I got mad and broke someone's arm, you're completely out of your mind if you think you can actually and legitimately keep me from-" he stops abruptly. Flaring his nostrils, clenching his jaw, and hanging up the phone all together. My eyebrows pull together at his random action and only seconds later he kicks the back of the front seat.
"What are you-"
"I need to talk to him. Alone. I'm taking you back." He's obviously fuming and I have no idea why. He clicks the side of his car open and I sit baffled, and very confused. He slams the back door shut, only to open the front.
"Jack-"
"Get in the front." He demands.
Demands?
The annoyed crinkles in my forehead indent, and I retaliate his movements, getting in the shotgun seat.
"Why are you-" I begin to pull the seatbelt over my chest.
"Taylor." He interrupts me, "please just- stop. I have to- I have to-"
"If you fight him I'm going to leave." I snap.
He shoves his keys in the ignition and completely ignores me, making my anger increase.
"Jack."
"Fucking hell!" He slams the steering wheel and it makes me flinch. "Just stop! I need to talk to him! Stop being selfish and using my need for you against what I need to do! That's so fucking frustrating!" He's screaming and it's making my chest pinch together.
I don't know if I should say it's "scaring" me because it's not, the loud noises just make me jump. He's fuming and him calling me selfish makes the idea of taking the keys and throwing them out the window much more intriguing.
"Don't scream at me. You can't just go around breaking noses and arms when things get you mad." I remind him in a hopefully calming manner. I would just shut my mouth but that doesn't sound like the rational thing in this situation, he can't do that and he knows that.
"Well you can't just say things like 'oh well if you do this then I'm going to leave' when it's obvious that I don't want you to, that's bitchy." He "mimics" my voice in a immature and rude way.
"Bitchy?" I widen my eyes at him and his jaw tightens, " I'm stating facts, if you cause more problems, I'm not staying in Omaha longer than tonight." I lie.
"Shut up."
"And don't tell me to shut up."
He swallows and squeezes the steering wheel.
"If you don't want me to leave then you right now then why are you dropping me off at Jack's?" I question. He's not making any sense.
"Because I need to talk to my dad alone. Trust me, the dick who kissed my girlfriend's house most definitely isn't my first choice at a pit stop."
I roll my eyes and slam my back into the shotgun seat like a child, crossing my arms. "It's obnoxious of you to still use that as a contributing factor to be upset."
"It is a very relevant and evident contributing factor actually, Ms. Greyson. When your best friend kisses your girlfriend, it gets you a little riled up. Imagine if I kissed-" He stops himself for a few moments and I look over at him, "Well. You don't have any friends, do you?"
My mouth falls open and my chest practically breaks. How can he just say that without flinching himself? My immediate sense is to cry, but that's not happening, so I swing the door back open. I walk back towards where the construction workers are in small, bitter hope that Jack will follow after me. I don't know why I do, but he can't talk to me like that, and he needs to understand that. Why can't he understand that?
I've always talked and treated Jack with such high respect and I deserve the same, I know he doesn't mean anything he says when he's like this but it still doesn't make it okay.
"Taylor." I hear him yell after the slam of the door, I obviously keep walking just so I can hold onto my strength. Super amusing how he can go from moaning in my ear and whimpering "I love you so much," to telling me I have no friends.
He grabs my arm and I rip it from his grip, but I do turn to him, interested in what else he has to say.
He shuffles a bit on his feet, obviously taken aback at how I complied to listening to him so easily. He shoves his hands in the pockets of his jeans in which the zipper is completely down. He doesn't speak for a few moments and I actually consider to keep walking, I definitely know my way back.
"I'm sorry. But you can't just say-"
"I can say whatever I want. Don't turn this fight against me because you're in the wrong." I put my finger up and walk closer to him.
He sighs and flicks his gaze around before biting his bottom lip and speaking again. "You don't understand how frustrating it is. My own dad doesn't know how serious our relationship is, even after all this time. He has no idea how much I need you in my life and it sets my teeth on edge at the fact he thinks he has a say in anything."
My eyebrows pull together and I cross my arms over my chest. It's cold. "I don't know how it feels to have your parent against you? If you don't remember, my mom threw me out of my house because of you." I poke his chest and feel tears burn the back of my eyes and anger burn throughout my veins.
"Because of me? Seriously? You're the one who ended up in my bed every time we fought. Sorry that Mrs. Perfect didn't like me, she obviously didn't like a lot of things." He snaps.
My mouth is agape again and my eyebrows pull together, "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Do I need to explain myself? Honestly, Taylor. Here you go again with the pity shit you throw at me. At least you have a fucking mom to hate, mine is buried six feet into the ground."
My face falls and my blood runs cold. His cheeks are pink from the cold air, along with his lips and his eyes are threatening to water all of a sudden but he blinks them away. Of course he blinks them away.
"Don't say that." My voice is small and weak and I hate how he says that I use pity when I never do, I have never done anything like that with him or anyone. What 'sad' situation am I even in to provide the pity?
His head falls back as it seems he's given up. He raises his hands up to his eyes and furiously wipes them, a single, weak sob escaping his lips and my heart melts.
He sniffs hard and I want to reach for him, but I don't.
"I'm so fucked up. I don't even fucking understand how fucked up I am." He weakly says and I listen to him blurt everything he needs to out. "I thought I was doing fine, I mean, I am doing fine. I swear, the entire fucking universe is against me. I swear that everything in this world just wants me to be a fucking fuck up. Nothing in this world is good for me and vise versa, it's so unfair. Why is everything so unfair?" He whines and doesn't take his hands away from his eyes as he cries. I've never seen him cry. I've seen him with tear stained cheeks and a weak voice, but never a sobbing mess.
"I'm good for you." I remind him.
Am I? I mean, I thought I was months ago, and a year ago, but am I really? People look at mine and Jack's relationship and assume that it's obvious who the real chaotic one is, but really, all I do is add fuel to his fire.
He takes his hands away from his eyes and they're red and blood shot, he nods, "I know. But I'm not good for you, that's where the train wreck always happens."
"What do you mean?"
"I've said it to you before. I can't fuck your life up just to mend mine."
"You're not fucking my life up, Jack. If you were, I wouldn't be here."
He shakes his head and his lip quivers, my God, the sight of him feeble is killing me.
"But I am. How good were you doing before I flew out to New York? So good, and then I came and you're-" He raises his hand, just for it to slap back down to his thigh effortlessly. "You're fighting with your fucked up high school boyfriend in the middle of an Omaha street, while months ago you were drinking champagne and talking about your published book."
"A book about you." I continue and he doesn't say anything, "I wrote that published book about you. Jesus, I write about you. If it wasn't for you I wouldn't have been drinking champagne and I wouldn't have the chance to be doing good. Don't you get it?" I raise my hands in frustration, "It's all about you. It's always been about you. I wasn't doing good before you knocked on my apartment door because I was pathetic enough to write an entire book about how much I loved you even after you left me alone without anything!" I have to fight these urging tears because I don't need two people crying. Not now.
I'm the "strong" one and he's the one with red eyes and wet cheeks. It's never been like this, I hate both ways.
"Just, shut up." I weakly say and look down at my feet. He doesn't get it, and apparently, neither do I. But then again, we do know everything about one another. It's weird, it's always been weird. I do love him, and I know he loves me, but he's had this odd insecureness since the start of our relationship. I wish i'd just go away. Neither of us need it.
"Make me." He lightly breathes.
My eyes flick up to his and they're pleads behind them. "Make me". That rings a bell, doesn't it?
I pull my eyebrows together and grab the collar of his sweatshirt, pulling him down to meet lips with his. I know it's stupid, and I know our fights typically always used to end in a physical connection, but it's something we need, something to remind us that we really are linked in every way.
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this chapter took me a week to write so you better watch and comment on my younow and talk to me or else i will die and never update again:)