Resurface

Chapter Five: Just like Before

Jerome's POV-

A few hours ago I was on a quest looking for her, and now she's sleeping in my apartment.

I study the ceiling silently as the morning light creeps in from my window, streaming onto the carpetted floor. I couldn't sleep last night. Not just because I had slept on my couch, but because I couldn't stop thinking about her.

I had this feeling of disgust in my bones for myself for just letting her go like that. I just let her drift out of my life, and instead of pursuing her, I just sat and moping in my own self pity for weeks. I was a complete mess. "God, what am I going to do with myself?" I murmered while examing a stain on the couch that looked like it could be a type of jam.

Suddenly, I hear quiet footsteps echo through the hallway. 'So she's awake,' I think to myself. I turn my head just a bit and see her emerge from the corridor.The flannel pajama pants I let her borrow are tied tight with the drawstring around her waste, hiding her tiny feet as they take each step.

"Jerome?" She asks, and I decide to pretend like I'm still asleep. "Lazy bum," she mutters and walks right up to the couch. "I'll wake you up later," she whispers and pulls my blanket up to my torso. I feel her fingertips brush my bare chest, and I feel like they're burning holes in my flesh.

She walks away and heads out of my line of vision. Relying on my hearing, I listen to her steps, transitioning to a soft step to a louder pad. I realize that she's in the kitchen now, her feet sticking to the tile floor as she walks. Then my ears are greeted by the slight clatter of pots and pans. 'She's making food. Wow my guest is making us both food. I am a terrible host,' I think to myself as my stove is lit.

A few minutes later the delicious smell of pancakes wafts to my nose, along with the rest of my apartment. At that my stomach decides its time to get up. I let out a groan in protest, whilst stretching my aching muscles.

"Morning sunshine," Hannah greets me sarcastically as I zombie walk into the kitchen. "I'm guessing you didn't sleep so well then?" I could only nod as I slumped on a barstool, still very groggy. "Looks like we're twining Jerome," she laughed. I turned to her in confusion, and noticed the terrible bags underneath her eyes.

"Why couldn't you sleep." I asked, my voice still dripping with exhaustion. She sighed and joined me on the barstool next to me. "Just thinking I guess..." She trailed off, looking at the ground in a guilty fashion. Before I could question her further, she jumped up and grabbed a plate from the counter.

I could feel myself drooling at the stack of perfect pancakes and golden syrup, draped across the layers in perfect drizzles. "I found some powered sugar in your cabinets too," she said happily, and put a shaker next to me. I was just about to devour my breakfast when I realized my manners. "Aren't you going to eat too?" I asked, using all my self control not to shove my face full of pancakes. She shrugged, "Sure if you want some company."

After a delicious breakfast, I suggested we go out and do something fun. At first Hannah scrunched up her nose at the idea, but as soon as I mentioned a new art exhibit at the downtown museum, her eyes lit up.

She was so excited in the car and when we got our admission. I was kind of interested to see what her reaction would be. When we pushed through the two huge front doors to the exhibition hall, Hannah couldn't keep herself from smiling.

She sucked in a breath as we entered the art exhibit, "Jerome.... This is amazing," she breathed. There were paintings lining the walls, and sculptures all over the exhibition hall. "Let's go look at those paintings!" She said excitedly, and grabbed my hand.

I felt chills go up my spine in surprise. 'God even her touch freaks me out,' I think guiltily, wondering if it was even healthy to have this kind if reaction.

"What do you think it is?" She asks curiously, tilting her head at the abstract art. Colors are smeared around into a collective glob at the center, and so much paint us built up that it literally sticks off the canvas. "A mess," I mutter just loud enough for her to hear. She scoffs and punches me lightly on the shoulder. "Use your imagination, come on!" She says annoyed. I look at the painting again, and use the first thing that comes to my head. "It's a field of flowers," I suggest. Hannah nods thoughtfully, and we move on to the next painting.

"What do you see?" I sigh and stare at the streaks of red and dots of orange and green. I think for a few minutes, and draw a blank. "Random paint streaks," I say honestly. "Jerome! Come on remember?" Hannah asks, and then puts her hands up. "You have to use your imagination," she says in an airy voice while arcing her hands in a rainbow shape.

"You have got to me kidding me." I mutter.