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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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"Shit, sorry." Jameson was quick to apologise as he cleaned my wound with a cloth and I had hissed in pain. Back in the corridor, Jameson had wound his arm around my waist and we had walked back to our room. It wasn't a long walk, thankfully, as I had already made it halfway to my destination. Then a stranger had attacked me. For Christmas I want an attack free life.

Jameson finished cleaning the wound and started to wrap a bandage around my arm.

"My motto should be: 'injuries everyday'." I joked, waving my hand in the air to fake present my new found motto. Jameson barely smiled at my remark and I rolled my eyes at his dour mood as he put a damper on my playful atmosphere.

I pouted but shut up as he finished dressing my wound, however, when he was finished, he didn't move. I brought my gaze up from where I was looking at my fingers on my lap and gazed up at him. Our eyes immediately met and I felt a gasp come to my lips at the change in his eyes.

It was different. I don't know.

Jameson sighed as he reached out for my hand, our fingers interlocking.

"You have no idea how worried I was when I woke up and you weren't here." Jameson's voice was strained, stressed. Yes, maybe the sleep had done him some good, but then waking up to finding me gone? Wow, great move, Sky.

I averted my eyes, feeling guilty for his stress. Then Jameson raised his hand. My eyes widened as I felt him cup my cheek. Well, this is new.

"Sky, you don't even know how–" He paused, thinking of his words. He shifted closer to me and I meekly observed our sudden proximity.

Jameson shook his head, possibly losing his words in the moment. Though, he started a new sentence. "You're always worrying me, Sky, I can never let go of the feeling that something bad will happen to you." His words were soft and hit me straight in the heart.

I squeezed his hand, probably more of a comfort for me than what I intended for him.

"I promise to drag you everywhere I go," I assured him, using a soft tone too. "Except for the toilet." I joked and small smile appeared on Jameson's lips before it disappeared.

Jameson opened his mouth to talk and I was still listening intently, hanging onto every syllable he produced. However, we were interrupted by a knock at the door.

As if a spell cast upon us had just been undone, we jumped away from each other as if the other had some infectious, fatal disease. I don't know about Jameson, but as soon as I fled his touch, I felt the cold embrace me—it wasn't a nice embrace.

Jameson cleared his throat and stood up, walking to the door to meet the human definition of an interruption. Once the door was open, Jameson and the human interruption began to have a conversation.

Surprisingly, I decided to not eavesdrop and instead waited for the conversation to end as politely and patiently as I could. Jameson closed the door and sighed, running a hand over his face. I stood up, worry coursing throughout my veins.

"What is it?" I asked Jameson, who looked up at me at the sound of my voice. A frown had appeared between his brows and I started to notice the stress written on his features as he walked closer and closer to me.

"They want you to testify in court on behalf of what happened with the person who injured you." Jameson's voice was slow and controlled, but I could see from the way he was clenching his jaw that he was not in control at all.

"That report came in quick." I muttered to myself, "wait, court?" I hadn't even stopped to think of the things this academy must come with. Sure, a clinic, a hospital, an out of bounds library, but I guess the idea of a court never crossed my mind.

"Next thing you'll tell me is that there's a prison here." I joked but Jameson didn't laugh, instead, he awkwardly avoided eye contact and scratched the back of his neck.

"Right, so there's a court and a prison I didn't know about." I concluded to myself whilst I processed my new information. What kind of people were in the prison? Criminals, duh. God, I'm annoying.

The room grew silent and I threw in a question to avoid the awkwardness of the situation. "So, when do they want me to testify?" I asked him, genuinely curious of the details of this testifying business.

And then my mind spun, "Wait, could this get him arrested?" My voice shook. Yes, this guy nearly murdered me, however, he was being forced to—by someone I didn't know the identity of—but that means it is a part crime. Surely? All I know is that 'someone' really wants me dead.

Jameson sighed and rolled his eyes at my question, "That is the general idea of testifying in court," Jameson remarked but I ignored his sour tone, instead biting my lip in worry. I'm no lawyer, but I'm pretty sure stabbing someone in the arm would get you a pretty severe punishment. But it wasn't this unknown persons fault; he was forced to do it.

"What about you?" The question fled my mouth before I even comprehended my light bulb moment. Jameson looked momentarily surprised by my outburst, but, in true Jameson fashion, he regained his posture and uptight demeanour.

"What do you mean?" Jameson questioned with an eyebrow raised. Is this boy shallow or really oblivious?

"This guy could be someone you know; I recognised the voice–"

Jameson was quick to interrupt, as if he somehow saw my input coming. Maybe not so oblivious. "I know Eden too, she screwed me over." I felt a pang of guilt for Jameson; losing a best friend is hard—I know. "Both of them broke rules—maybe not Eden as such—but what she accused–"

"Yes, but someone forced this person to do this!" I exclaimed. Jameson looked taken aback at my eruption, and, quite frankly, I was too. Sky, this guy literally just tried to perform illegal surgery on your arm—that, or he's a butcher. Neither sounds great.

"Does it matter why it happened, Sky?" Jameson exploded. "Both of these people deserve to be locked up and I don't know how this person got away with this for so long," His voice reached its highest volume, then, with his next words, his lowest, "surely the council can suspect something."

Although I hadn't made it evident, I was feeling very anxious about the argument we are about to have—or already having. Fighting with Jameson was like fighting with myself. We both usually tended to say something I agreed with, I just always backed up myself because of my pride.

I crossed my arms over my chest, "Yes you do." I told him firmly.

Jameson pinched the bridge of his nose, "Yes, yes of course, because I know everything!" Jameson's voice rose again and I narrowed my eyes as I began to lose my temper. I stepped closer to him, my jaw clenched and my knuckles turning white.

"Will you stop?" I nearly screamed. "You know why they passed a blind eye on this violent prick—they're low on guardians, they don't want to have to lock up a couple few that weren't behaving like 'proper guardians!'" I shouted at him and Jameson clenched his jaw. "They don't want to waste their time, their resources." I let that set in. "That's why you're my guardian." My voice rose, though not quite reaching a volume past my previous shrieks and shouts.

Jameson shook his head at me, visually still angry, and very angry. "So now we're insulting each other?" His voice pierced—and I mean shattered—my ear drums as he shouted. I wouldn't be surprised if the whole hall heard.

My temper grew again, "I wasn't insulting you! I–"

"You what? You want another guardian?"

"Will you–"

"Stop? You want me to stop? Goddammit, Sky!" I flinched at his tone, and then stumbled back in shock as he punched the wall. My jaw fell and I began pacing myself away from Jameson. He punched a wall. The anger was practically steaming from him and I regretted starting the stupid brawl in the first place.

Jameson stayed hunched over by the wall and the room grew deadly silent. I was absolutely shocked. I have never seen Jameson lose his cool like that before, save for a few bickering arguments. Quite honestly, I feel almost scared. I don't know why, though, I'm pretty sure Jameson would never hurt me like I've witnessed from all of these strangers in black hoody's—and Eden on my arrival. However, as my fingers trembled and my breathing became shaky, I realised I might be more upset by his outburst than I thought.

His deep ocean blue eyes flashed wild and pained as his head snapped up. It was as if the realisation of his actions just came and slapped him the face. His eyes bore into mine and his lips parted,

"Sky–"

"Get out."

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TA DAH

NOW PUT AWAY THOSE NERF GUNS

IM SORRY

RIP Skyson

When you thought the skyson ship sailed.

Then it became the titanic

SEE YA

ENJOY THE REST OF YOUR CHRISTMAS

love,

-The Santa that flew away (from your bullshit)

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Next update: Wednesday
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CHAPTER FORTY-THREE SPOILER:

Does Jameson leave the room?

Does Jameson come back?

Will Skyson mend itself? Or is it apologies that they'll lack?

(When nothing rhymed with room in the riddle: broom) (Cinderella is back)