sage | karl jacobs

13

The sounds of muffled voices, shoes, and suitcases reflect themselves off the floor, begging to be heard. Dozens of people walk past me as I walk through the airport. Occasionally, I'll bump into someone or stumble my feet. A voice calls from ahead of me, one that belongs to a fluffy-haired brunette boy in hot pink converse. 

His feet create a soft melody on the floor. A melody that overpowers the rest of the symphony, the kind that stays in your head for a while.

Everywhere he walks, he seems to be the light in the room, the center of attention. Heads turn and smile at him under the masks. Pictures are taken. High-fives and hugs are given. And throughout the whole spotlight, his hands hold onto mine. It gently tugs at the skin, leaving behind a feeling of burning ember, branding the touch to my skin. His feet walk a little ahead of me, and his scent follows. Today, the scents a clean and mature scent, yet sweet. He smells like cinnamon. It fills my senses with overwhelming joy and security, and I can tell it does to everyone around him as well.

His hands and body drag me through the familiar airport to lead me to his destination. His friend, Quackity's or Alex's, arrival gate. He sits us down on a chair near the back of the waiting area, staring straight ahead at the door in front of him. His leg bounces rapidly on the floor, and his hands will tense up from time to time.

He's nervous. 

He pulls his phone out from his pants to check the time, the fourth time this minute. Alex's plane has landed, and it's resting at the gate. The people towards the front of the plane exit first. They look tired. 

They all hold their bags the same, clutching the handles the same way, till their knuckles turn white. Few people hug their loved ones, but most just walk by. Through the chaos, a shorter man with a black beanie, steps off the plane. His face is illuminated by a hidden smile, running over to the stunning boy next to me. They embrace each other with a hug filled with so much excitement, it almost looks like anger.

This boy stands out too. He's positive, funny, and you can tell. He holds his bag gently, like I hold mine. Tight enough to where it won't get stolen, but loose enough so I don't hurt my hands. 

The two boys pull out of the hug, and the shorter boy's right hand extends to mine. "Alex," he said, the hidden smile growing. "Sage."

Alex looks at Karl, who's face burns to an apparent shade of red. Laughter fills the gate, alongside the shoes and suitcases. Karl reaches his hand out to grab Alex's suitcase as they begin to talk. I stop him, placing my head above to hold it for him. "Are you sure you got it?" Karl asks quietly, as Alex looks around the building. 

I nod. Something about Alex and his aura is extremely positive. It seems to be coated in a thick honey, and Karl's in cotton candy. It feels as if I was a kid in a candy shop, the light colors and the predominant smell of sugar. It's like I'm trapped in an overwhelming sense of calm positivity. 

One where I'm happy, but not ecstatic like my boyfriend and his friend.

At some point, the sweetness becomes sickening. As does too much of any good thing. Karl and Alex laugh through the night, up in his streaming room. Monster and Red Bull cans pile up of the counter, along with some dirty mugs filled with old coffee stare at me from inside the sink. 

I sigh, removing myself from the granite counter. Sometimes after moving in with Karl, I wish I could go back home to my house. Where it was neatly kept clean, where it was always presentable for company, where it was always quiet. 

There has not been a single quiet day or night since I moved in.

My hands meet cold water and a sponge, aggressively scrubbing the mug. the dried coffee ends up slightly staining the mug, and the cans ended up completely filling the recycling bin. I sit on the floor next to the bin, staring at my hands. Dried, calloused, peeling, ivory skin that's painted with light bruises and dried blood look back at me. 

If my hands looked like this, what do I look like? My feet pick my body up, dragging myself over to the nearest mirror. 

A thin figure, almost yellowish skin, dark circles, no color on her face. Light bruises blanket my arms and collarbone, how did those get there? I look back into the mirror, met with a girl who isn't me, then everything goes black. 

(A/N)

im so sorry for not updating this book and for this chapter being so shit. im not rly motivated rn so hopefully it gets better.