^ Sky's dress on 'Sky'^

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T h e H o l l o w s O f
H    I    R    A    E T H
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Jameson dropped my shoulders and backed away from me. I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding in. Jameson's back hit the wall and he slid to the ground with his fingers tugging at tufts of his hair.

I took a tentative step towards him—he didn't move. Closing my eyes, I swallowed any hesitation and took a seat upon the floor next to Jameson. He held his head in his hands, still tugging at his hair. I peered at him, trying to get a glimpse at his face.

I sighed when nothing happened for the next few moments, "Drunk Sky is going to pay for doing this." I complained. Jameson let go of his head and rested it instead against the wall.

"It isn't Drunk Sky's fault." Jameson muttered. I turned my head to observe him and frowned when all I saw was a buried lack of self-worth being dredged up along with his painful memories. Wait, he doesn't seriously think that Bert's death was his fault, right?

I shook my head, my thoughts leading me to speak out about the matter, "If you're about to commit verbal suicide, then forget about it." I told Jameson with a stern tone. Jameson turned to glance at me.

"Verbal suicide?" He asked, a glimpse of humour in his eyes. I smiled softly, pleased that I could calm his ticking brain for half a second, whilst twirling and twisting a blonde lock of my hair around my finger, before tucking it behind my ear.

"Yeah, like blaming what happened all on yourself." Jameson sighed at my elaboration and then proceeded to avoid my gaze—as I said, half a second.

"It was technically my fault, I let him lock the–"

"Free will." I interrupted him.

"But I'm supposed to always be by his–"

"Privacy." I interrupted again.

"I have to put my life before–"

"But he decided to take his own life. You couldn't have protected him from that," Jameson sighed. "It was his own choice, Jameson." I tried to soothe him.

Jameson turned to look at me, his eyes meeting mine and gazing into them seriously. "I was his guardian, Sky. I know you don't understand what that means, but I do." Jameson swallowed and closed his eyes. I found myself being bitter over the fact that we couldn't relate, but brushed it off; I'm listening, not evaluating.

"You have to be the hero in practically every situation," He emphasised and opened his eyes. "If anything happens to the one that you're protecting then it all comes back to you." He told me sadly. "You–" Jameson paused. "You feel a sense of care for this person after a while," Jameson's sad eyes bore into mine, "Like if anything happened to them—you'd lose your entire world." He slumped back, appearing to admit defeat.

I found myself trying to place myself in the position of a guardian risking their life, meeting their potential death around every corner, instead of being me—weak, scared, but protected. But as Jameson had stated, it was hard for me to understand. So inconveniently hard.

"Jameson, you need to let go, not only of Bert but of this mistake you seem to think you have made," I tried to talk sense to him, my voice sounding agonised as I strained for a way to make him understand what I was trying to say.

Then it backfired. "I can't. Not when you're here." His eyes found mine, fear alight in his eyes before it burned out as quickly as I had noticed it.

I shuffled closer to him, "What do you mean?" Jameson looked away from me, his gaze turning to my window. The sky was brightening up—it must be around the early hours of the morning.

"You should sleep now." He stated absentmindedly. Jameson began to push himself off the floor but I grabbed his hand. He sat back down on the floor next to me and frowned at my fingers interlocked with his.

I tried smiling at him but he wouldn't look my way. There is just so much I don't know about this boy, so much he is holding inside; letting it burden him.

Jameson pulled his hand from mine and I felt my skin go cold from the loss of his touch. "Get ready for bed." He ordered before standing up and walking to his room.

I rolled my eyes but stood up nonetheless, involuntarily growing dizzy as I did so. I steadied myself against the wall before kicking my discarded heels further into the corner of the room so I wouldn't trip over them later. I picked up some leggings and a t-shirt that I had secretly stolen from Jameson—you would be seriously surprised by the number of comfortable clothes he doesn't use.

I made my way into the bathroom and laughed at my reflection in the mirror. Mascara and eyeliner were smudged around my eyes and I had lipstick messed outside the lines of my lips.

I wiped it all off with makeup wipes and then quickly splashed my face with water. I slipped out of my dress and pulled on the pyjamas I picked out. I brushed my teeth and then went to the toilet before brushing out my unruly hair in the mirror, somehow only just now noticing the way it twirls around my finger like the faintest touch of the sun.

Satisfied that I had finished my nightly routine, I placed my brush down and walked out of my bathroom, switching off the lights before slipping into my bed. I fell quickly and heavily into a sleep but awoke by the sound of a voice.

I frowned groggily, turning around in my bed to see Jameson's bedroom lights on. He was pacing around the room, talking frantically.

"But I can't–" He paused then sighed. I next heard the clatter of quite a few objects. I jumped in shock, my eyes widening and my heart starting to beat fast, fear pulsing through my body.

"I told you–" Anger was laced with Jameson's voice and, quite honestly, I was scared, no matter the receiver of this call.

"I am not doing that!" I frowned. If only I could hear the other end of this call.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and pushed the covers off my body, the cold temperature of the room hitting my skin and raising goosebumps instantly. I shivered but pushed myself up, ready to get out of bed to see what's going on with Jameson.

"I don't trust that anyone else could look after her!" I paused.

"No–" I tiptoed over to the door and sat down as quietly as I could with my back against my side of our wall, listening to every word. Since the door was always left wide open at night, I had to sit where Jameson wouldn't see me—next to the door frame.

"I am not!" I heard a thud right behind me and I flinched. It went quiet for a while and I assumed that Jameson was listening to the person on the receiving end, so I awaited his response.

"Hang on." I heard him say and then footsteps approaching the door. I could see his figure out of the corner of my eye.

"Sky?" His voice rang out into my room. I stood up, sensing his fear like a breath in a cold night. Jameson swung around to face me before his face softened slightly as he became aware of my presence and fear seemed to escape him as if it never knew him. I walked straight up to him and pressed my palms to either side of his face, sighing at the dark and deep circles beneath his eyes.

I spotted the phone in his hand and removed one of mine from his face. I touched his hand and it relaxed—the phone was still in call and so I pressed the screen to end it. After the nuisance had been removed, I took the phone from his hand and looked up to see Jameson staring at me with a curious tinge to his eyes. I ignored his gaze and instead pushed him back into his room, guiding him to his bed.

I forced him into it and whispered, "Go to sleep." Jameson continued to stare at me as if I was, in a wild turn of events, a guardian angel, and I smiled back reassuringly. I pulled the sheets over him and walked over to the light switches, turning them off.

I walked into my room and attempted to close the door. But Jameson was too fast, too damaged. He bolted up and jerked it back open, breathing fast with a face full of frantic emotion.

"Hey," I pressed a hand against his chest and he frowned down at it. I took it away awkwardly and pulled him back to his bed.

"If it makes you feel better, I'll sleep here tonight." I told him, believing it would comfort him, before grabbing some pillows and a blanket, then crafting a DIY bed.

I chanced my luck and shut Jameson's door. He flinched but didn't bolt up again. I found my DIY bed in the darkness and made myself comfortable on the floor.

I waited until I felt that Jameson had drifted off before I too did the same thing. I began to fall into dreamland before I was, yet again, interrupted. This time it was different, though, I felt as I was lifted off the floor and set on a proper mattress.

"Jameson?" I murmured into the darkness. I got no response but the soft touch of warmth as I was covered in a thick duvet. I smiled and snuggled into my pillow.

My pillow moved. Well, that's new. Could be an upgrade. I shrugged lightly and placed an arm on my pillow, finally falling into an uninterrupted sleep.

I was sure to sleep forever, it has to be around early four am right now, with all that time I wasted not sleeping.

Fingers brushed the hair off my face. Wow, this is a great pillow.

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Click this link to buy a great pillow www.whoisthepillowthough.com

SO WHO IS THE PILLOW

I think we all know...

THE SKYSON THOUGH

CRYING

ANGELS

etc etc

I ship #skyson and I wrote it

#selfappreciation

Jameson's damaged background thoughh cries can we give him a hug

Donate hugs for Jameson via the following link  www.hugsforjameson.com

Thank you

Bye

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Next update: FRIYAY
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CHAPTER SIXTEEN SPOILER:

A hungover squad, and Sky meets Jameson's friends, and then gets jealous...

But of what?