lights out, jake sim.

14.

Lily was contented. She couldn't ask life for more. Her romance with Jake was budding with each passing day, anchoring its roots deep within her heart. They had their fair share of ups and downs, with moments of passion and moments of doubt. Her heart, which was already in the palm of his hands, refused to believe otherwise. She was the happiest, she had ever been. There had been late-night conversations under the starry nights, stealing kisses in the corner of the campus, and finding comfort in each other's arms. With Jake by her side, she learned to let go of the fear of attachment, allowing herself to be vulnerable to the idea of love.

Her head was wrapped in a whirlwind of thoughts; his thoughts. No matter how much she tried to engage herself in her daily pursuits, she would find herself drifting back to the moments she was spending with Jake. It was a battle between the desire for normalcy and the spontaneity of the exhilaration that would overcome her when she was in his arms. 

She would occasionally think about what her future with Jake would be like. Would their love withstand the tormenting testaments of societal norms? 

With Jake? Her heart raced. It was way ahead of all the uncertainties. And when the heart decides to turn a deafening ear to the clamours of distrust that the head keeps reminding the heart of, know that it's a done deed. There's no way out of it. You are destined to die with their memories etched in your heart. The only question that pertains is who finishes who first?

Lost in her thoughts, Lily failed to notice that she was already in front of her dorm room. Unlocking the door, she set her things aside on the table before running a bubble bath for herself. 

After finishing her bath, Lily draped a cosy bathrobe around her form and laid down on her bed, reading a book, when a soft rustling of leaves outside her window caught her attention, and her heart raced when she saw a figure gracefully slip inside her room.

It was Jake. Wearing his signature varsity jacket, his hair tousled with some leaves sticking out of them. It was an endearing sight that brought a smile to her face.

"What are you doing here, Jake?" she asked, with a mix of surprise and confusion. She sat up in her bed and stared at him with wide eyes as she took in his presence before her.

"I came to surprise you, Lily," Jake replied, with a playful grin forming on his face, "It was supposed to be a romantic surprise, but it seems your tree wasn't a fan of hugs. Nature can be quite prickly. Nevertheless, I will proudly wear these battle scars if it means catching a glimpse of  you in that lovely bathrobe."

Lily's face flushed with embarrassment, the vivid rosiness spreading out from her cheeks and the hues intensifying as they touched her neck. Jake had his way with words that would always take Lily completely off-guard, sweeping her off her feet.

Did he say scars? Inadvertently forgoing his previous flirtatious remarks, she stood up on her feet and stepped closer to where Jake stood. Her bare feet felt silent on the floor. She reached out and touched his arm, sending a shiver down his body. She truly was intoxicating, his heart admitted.

Of all the girls that came into Jake's life, none of them seemed to care. It's not like he cared about them enough to be bothered with such trivial thoughts. He hadn't invested enough emotions to render them a place in his heart. They were all in it equally; for pleasure. It wouldn't be wrong to say that his nonchalance reflected in their conduct, and he had taken pride in his flaws. And there she was, fretting over a mere scratch on him that he had deemed inconsequential.

Lily applied a bandage on his minor cuts with Jake's needless cries as bait for her affection and he would say, "Don't fret, my wife! The pain of these wounds amounts nothing to the pain of being away from you." And Lily would chuckle at his melodramatic flair before planting an endearing kiss on his lips.

Yet, there would be times when Lily would be torn between the vehement connection between the two and the cautionary tales she had heard about him. The whispers in the wind warning her about his charming ways. Her heart always triumphs in the end, her logical tendencies vanishing into thin air. A chaccone; luring her to get drunk on him in fascination. Needless gestures, when you are dancing with the devil himself, are a tantalizing gamble with heart.