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H o l l o w s   I n
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Jameson was surprised that I hadn't been sobbing this entire time. Since it was Halloween in three days, we didn't have school, and so Jameson had spent the last day and a half asking over and over if I was sure that I was okay.

He entered into my room, but before he could ask me, I spoke up, from where I stood by my vanity—where I had been decluttering; I missed spring.

"About my body." I spoke up, Jameson clamped his mouth shut and then frowned.

Then a look of realisation washed over his features. "Oh, yes. Your body."

I sighed and put down two tubs of moisturiser. "We need to talk about how I'm going to protect myself in the future." I announced.

Jameson rose an eyebrow. "In the future, I will follow you everywhere–"

"No, no. That's not what I meant." I said quickly, dismissing him. He frowned again, so I sighed again.

I approached him sceptically. "I want you to teach me self-defence." I told him. Jameson stared at me.

"In what world would I ever say 'yes' to that?" He asked.

I rolled my eyes. "In a world where your Special One will get pummelled to the ground if you don't help her kick some arse." I responded, arms over my chest.

Jameson pondered this for a while. "It's a good idea," he started, and I gestured for him to continue, "but it's risky." He finished, and before I could object, he rose a finger to stop me.

"Think of it this way: a Guardian's purpose is to protect an S.O.–"

He must be using Guardian-language.

"–and so they're trained to fight threats. But, one, I have no idea how you'd manage to fight a threat and win," my jaw fell open at his insult, "and, two, I don't know how to teach you to protect yourself and not attack."

I frowned. "Did you just insult the both of us?" I asked and Jameson nodded.

"Okay," I crossed my arms over my chest. "Telling me that you don't know defence is like me telling you that I know everything in the world—because according to my best friend who's actually my Guardian, I don't."

Jameson pulled a face of confusion at the comparison.

I waved it off. "Nonetheless, I still think it'd be beneficial to stay alive." I compensated and Jameson laughed, but ended up agreeing.

And then he told me to get changed into something suitable for fighting. I asked him if a metal box was good.

Despite this, in less than ten minutes, I was dressed in my old gym clothes which, thankfully, fit me still. Jameson walked out of his room in a grey tank and black shorts, which reached to his knees. And boy did his biceps make an appearance. I had a feeling he was talking to me, but I wasn't really paying attention to the words.

"Let's go." He suddenly announced.

My eyes got stuck on his biceps but my head turned. "Wha–?" I tore my eyes off his arms and watched Jameson give me a humoured expression.

"Now that I have your attention," he smiled, strange dimples appearing on his cheeks as he did so. "Shall we start?" He asked.

I nodded but couldn't get words out. What on earth is going on?

"Right, I'm going to attack you–"

"–obviously." I intervened.

Then suddenly he was running towards me. I screamed and threw my arms up in front of me. Jameson skidded to a halt and hummed. He closed my fingers into the palm of my hand to make a fist, then came behind me and put his hands on my waist. I stopped wondering about my near death experience as he shifted my position.

He came out from behind me and stood in front of me. Then demanded I punched him.

So I did. Over. And over. And over. Again.

It felt good to get all the stress from the past two months out, even if it was on my Guardian's body.

And then I found myself burning off pent up anger. Anger from the very start of the timeline. From the twenty-third of August of last year—my birthday.

That was the day that the love of my life—my first love—decided to leave me. He could've stayed, somehow, could've pretended he left me there, and then could've came back so that we could runaway together.

But he didn't.

Then, on the twelfth of September last year, just nineteen days after we had exchanged our final words, I found him. And it was a completion like no other. Our fantasy had been rebuilt. And then it broke.

And on the thirteenth, he left me. Two months ago, I hated him for that. I despised him. But he has since told me that he didn't leave me with absolutely nothing, in fact, he stayed around to make sure I was okay, and then left me with a letter. Which I never got.

Which continues the spiral. Down and down.

Fast forward six months, and I'm abducted. Alexi couldn't stop it. And when it seemed like I was going to die trapped in that cage, neither one of my Guardians saved me. At that moment, Jameson had let me down.

So I punched him. Hard. And repeated that motion a thousand more times than I was supposed to.

Jameson caught my wrists, holding them in a firm grip, his warm hands clutching onto my shaking ones.Then, in a flash, he had spun my body around, so that I had my back against his hard chest. I breathed heavily, letting my head roll back so that the back of it rested on Jameson's chest.

And I could feel his heart beating. I had done all the work, yet his heart was taking part in its own marathon.

His hands still held onto my wrists, but they were enclosed tightly into my chest, almost as if he was embracing me from behind. And I relaxed into that embrace, my body going limp as all effort escaped out of my body through my next exhalation.

Had I seen this scene in a film, I would've said it was definitely heating up. But was it? Was there still a flicker of attraction between Jameson and I? I had never thought about that. I'd always thought about the possibility that Jameson still cared for me, but never that I would reciprocate that care.

Two months ago, I would've laughed at that. Four months ago, I wouldn't have paid attention.

"Do I have a meeting with my therapist today?" I asked out of absolutely nowhere. Romantic.

Jameson's grip loosened, albeit he still held me. "Yes." He replied. His response had only been a word, and I wondered if perhaps that had been caused by my proximity.

"When?" I asked in response.

Jameson ducked his head down, upturning his wrist to look at the time on his watch. I could feel his breath against my flushed face.

"Now." He told me.

I found myself leaning into his voice, my forehead touching his cheekbone. "Right now?" I asked.

"Probably not."

We stood like that for a few moments longer, probably only a few seconds, before I regretfully pulled away. Jameson's eyes regarded me with longing and a sense of belonging.

I smiled ruefully as I took steps backwards, "maybe I should go alone." I suggested, hinting at Jameson's obvious heady mood. I could see Jameson weighing up his options whilst I de-sweated myself in an effort to make it look as if I hadn't just beaten the hell out of my Guardian. I brushed through my hair and wiped the sweat from my face, then overdosed on perfume.

"You could take a shower or something." I suggested, turning to face Jameson just before I was set to leave. Jameson rose an eyebrow in response and, guessing what he thought I was implying, I rolled my eyes.

"I meant to relax or something, but sure, you can take a cold shower if you want." I told him, trying to keep my eyes on his. Just before my efforts failed, I bade my farewells and left. I closed the door with a sigh of exasperation.

And then I ran into someone.

When I saw who it was, I wished I had saved those punches for a better cause.

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Oh wow a chapter

I'm so shit

😂😂

I'm trying okay!!

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Next update: ASAP
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CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE SPOILER:

Who's the mystery person outside Sky and Jameson's dorm?

And what will be the result of their meeting?

This mystery is followed by a very important therapy session.

Why is it important?

Because it opens more doors than closes them.