𝐈𝐍𝐊 - JAMIE CAMPBELL BOWER

13

     "You can't lie in bed all day, you know," Jamie remarks as he leans coolly against your door frame, arms folded across his chest. He surveys you with a concerned look on his face, one that you try not to let get on your nerves. You had every right to skip your writing class.

     Here you were tucked in bed, stressed, confused, and without the slightest idea of what to do. The last time you'd try kicking Jamie out of the house, he'd teleported back into your room. Twice.

     Or was it Thrice?

     "Maybe you have to leave willingly..." you mumble to yourself.

     "And go where?" he shifts from his spot against the door frame and walks over to your bed. It's funny how quickly your relationship was forced to progress. What took people months to accomplish had taken barely a week for you two to surpass. That's what happened when you were forced to live with someone day and night. He sits beside you, his presence filling you with comfort as if you'd known him for years.

     "I don't know," you groan. "That's only the first problem."

     He chuckles lightly, despite the fact that there were no humorous parts of this situation. Why did Xander have to come home early? Why did he have to come home at all?

     You almost jump at the last thought. You shouldn't have been thinking like that. Yes, this situation was inconvenient, but you didn't have to take it that far. Xander lived here whether you liked it or not and he had to come home eventually. You should have been glad.

    But you weren't. And for some reason, you couldn't understand why. Why weren't you jumping for joy? The love of your life was coming back home, but you felt yourself caring less with every passing second. It felt like more of a burden than anything and the fact that that was true filled you with guilt deeper than any other pain.

     "Everything will work out, you'll see," Jamie says.

     "Stop saying that."

     He furrows his eyebrows. "But I only said it once."

     "And trust me, that was more than enough," you reply, but the retort comes out softer than expected. All your energy had been used up on overthinking the situation.

     Soft music plays in the background. Old and calming tunes from old and calming times. You weren't sure why Jamie had decided to turn on the vintage 50s music, but he insisted on it relaxing your nerves. Like everything else he insisted on, you gave in.

     All of the sudden, Jamie pulls out a pale yellow book. It's faded and worn with creased corners. You'd recognize that book anywhere. It was your thesaurus, the word printed neatly on the cover in big font. "Where in the world did you get that?"

     "Places." He shrugs, opening the book to a random page. A sound that's a mixture of a hum and a sigh escapes his lips. "All right, let's see..." He picks a random word on the page. "Right now, I predict that you're feeling rather perturbed."

     "Yeah," you groan, only half knowing what that word meant. "That sounds about right."

     "And maybe, apprehensive?"

     "If Xander comes home and finds out I lied about you being here, then yeah, I'm gonna be pretty apprehensive." You pull the blanket up over your head.

     When silence follows, you assume Jamie had given up, but it only takes another moment for him to reply. A reply you certainly hadn't been expecting.

     "Do you love Xander?" he asks, his voice soft and feeble.

     Your words get caught in your throat. You always hated that question, hated those words. Every time Tom would ask, or your parents, or your friends, you'd always answered with whatever they wanted to hear. You never really had time to ask yourself. This time is no different, so you nod slowly.