what happens after sunset | ✓

sixteen

⋆ c o n s t a n t  w o r r i e s  &  f a s t  f o o d  l o v e  ⋆

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meliorism (n.)
the belief that the world gets better;
the belief that humans can improve in the world

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MY HEARTBEAT QUICKENS in surprise as I take in his words.

"I thought you hated your father," I say, immediately regretting it.

"I do," he says, "but I'm worried about what's going to happen if they find something on him. They could lock him up for a long time, and we will have nowhere to go, no money, nothing."

"I'm sure it won't come to that," I reply, trying to ease his worries.

"I don't want to talk about it right now," he says after a few seconds, pulling me closer. I nod in understanding, snuggling up against his hard body, which is surprisingly comfortable.

We lay there in silence for a long while, occasionally shifting, and when I hear his breaths even out, I know he's asleep. I try to wriggle out of his grip to text my parents that I would be sleeping over at a friends house, even if they wouldn't be home to notice, but his arms have locked me in a tight grip, as if I was his teddy bear. Just the thought makes me grin. So I just shrug and turn back into him, falling asleep in his strong arms.

He awakens hours later, his shifting causing me to wake up as well. The sky has darkened outside his windows, bathing the whole room in shadows.

"Feel better?", I ask, looking up at him, his sharp jawline more prominent in the dark.

    "Yea, but it's all because of you, Bumble," he says, his deep voice made husky by sleep.

I stay in his arms, letting his body heat warm me, "do you want to talk about it?"

He sighs, and I know he does, it's just hard for him to start.

"I'm scared, Andy," he starts, trying his best to still sound confident, "I don't know what we are going to do if he actually gets locked up."

"I'm sure there is a plan in place for situations like this," I say softly, trying my best to assuage his fears, "and besides, you turn eighteen in a few weeks, the day after Christmas to be exact, and you'll finally be a legal adult that can go and support your other family."

"You're right, as usual," he says, but there is still some part of his voice that leads me to think he doesn't quite believe it.

I reach over and flick the lamp on, sending a quick text to my parents that I'm sleeping somewhere else, and turn back to him.

"Do you want to go get something to eat?". He grins at me as I say this, knowing me too well.

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The air is chilly as we walk to the nearest fast food place, chills moving up my arms causing me to regret not bringing a jacket.

I rub my arms up and down the sides, hoping to gain some semblance of warmth. Jordan glances at me out of the corner of his eye, and I half expect him to pull the cliche move of taking off his sweatshirt and giving it to me.