Stagnant

Repress

"I don't know whether to feel excited or scared that you're choosing what we're doing today." He chuckles slightly.

"Excited. Very excited." I send him a small smile, turning back to the sat nav and typing in the address, not allowing him to see what I had booked us.

"We're not bungee jumping again but without the bungee, are we?" He teases.

Narrowing my eyes at him, I send him a playful glare. "That's funny."

"I thought so." He chuckles while I set the sat nav on the windscreen.

That's the thing about Jackson, there's no treading lightly or cautiously and I loved it. I didn't constantly feel on edge or awkward because of how he was treating me. He wasn't scared that I was going to hurt myself or commit suicide. It made us both feel at ease around each other, despite him finding me hurting myself in Northampton. We were equals and he treated me like I was normal and not a suicidal, depressed girl who, before this trip, had no one.

The ride wasn't awkward or uncomfortable, the air was light and so was the conversation. I was comfortable around him. The air wasn't thick and choking and I didn't want the world to swallow me up like I did on the first few journeys. This was different.

"You chose this?" He asks in astonishment and disbelief.

Shrugging, I smile shyly and nod. "Yes."

"Why?" Confusion and disbelief dance in his eyes.

I glance up at the 'World Rugby Museum' and shrug again. "I thought you would like it."

My eyes meet his. Shock coursing through me at the unidentifiable emotion that swirls in his eyes, the usual blue even brighter and mesmerising. He opens his mouth, his face contorting. After closing and reopening his mouth a few times, he shakes his head and finally smiles, pulling me in to his arms. "Thank you Elizabeth."

I freeze for a brief second before returning the hug, burying my face in his chest to hide the crimson that was crawling up my cheeks, my heart stuttering at the action while butterflies are released from their cage. "Let's go. You have to annoy me with all your rugby knowledge."

He pulls away but slings his arm over my shoulder, guiding us to the entrance. I ignore the butterflies raging in my stomach.

"Oh I plan to." He grins down at me, my heart stopping at the action. "The World Rugby Museum is a growing collection and celebrates the culture and heritage of Rugby from all around the world. I've wanted to come here since I started playing it."

"And now you're here." I nudge his stomach with my elbow, staring around at all the sections, images and plaques that explain the object or photo in detail.

He nods. "I'm here. With you." Hesitantly, I wrap my arm around his waist, ignoring the surprised look on his face. He clears his throat and smiles. "Let's learn a shit tonne about rugby."

I had known Jackson a long time, seen him around my small town and in the halls and on the pitch of our high school but we weren't close. We were in separate years and that meant we were light years away from each other. I hadn't known him, and truth be told I hadn't noticed him all that much, we were just aware of each other, smiled as we walked past each other because of how much we saw each other at rugby practice. We were somewhat acquaintances. But coming on this trip with him, being around him and becoming closer to him, one thing was clear.

Jackson Ryder didn't know how to shut the fuck up.

The whole way around the museum his mouth hadn't closed. He talked non stop about rugby and only rugby. Everything that came out of his mouth was related to rugby one way or another.