Lights twinkle around the house, little paper snowflakes skatter around the walls but not in a cluttered way. They're arranged in a very aesthetic way. A few handcrafted trinkets and Christmas themed items furnish the home. The scrawny boy was keeping himself busy, measuring a piece of wood before sawing into it. He was trying to create something that could impress his father. He will continue to craft both day and night if there's a chance that it'll make his father happy. Its not everyday that dad comes back. He's normally away on business trips for Christmas, so this is a great opportunity to make the best Christmas gift possible. One of his cats hops up onto the workbench and the boy has to shoo them away. "Two fifteen, go hang out with 3 o'clock, it's dangerous up here-" He has so many cats that he refers to them based on when they normally show up at his house. The only cat he truly owns is a white cat he named Noon as a play on naming black cats Midnight. All the other cats are strays that he lets in and takes care of when his father isn't around. They come and go as they please. The cat meows, ignoring his warning, trying to get the boys attention. His father is home. The cat heard a new human at the door. He puts the saw down to look at the cat. "What? Do you need food or something? I already fed yo--" He hears the front door's lock being fiddled with. He immediately jumps into action. Time to lead all the stray cats to the back door. He runs over to the living room. "Alright guys, we practiced this! Time to evacuate." At the word 'evacuate,' all the cats except for his permanent cat spring into action as well, bolting down the hall to the kitty door in the back, running outside. Yes, he trained the cats. That's how much free time he has. This whole routine is pointless for a specific reason, but the boy does it anyways. And they escaped just in time. The front door opens and the father saunters into the living room, tossing his keys down onto the coffee table before setting his briefcase down. "I see you've been busy at work, Ellie..." He does not seem pleased, sitting down on the couch and starting to take off his shoes so he can relax now that he's home. "Dad! What a surprise~" Elliot reaches up to take his hairband out, since he knows his father doesn't like him keeping his hair up like that. His hair is pretty long, going a few inches past his shoulders. "How was work? How long do you think you'll be staying?" The father sets his shoes aside and leans back against the couch, letting out a long sigh. "Probably not long, sorry bud. I can stay around for maybe two weeks if I'm lucky." He looks up at the ceiling, closing his eyes. "And you probably want to show me those things you made? You do know its pointless to make surprises right? I see everything you do." He gestures to one of the nearby cameras. This is why the evacuation thing was pointless. This house has 24/7 surveillance. To an extreme. Every room in this house, even the bathroom and a few blocks down the street, is being recorded. Every second of Elliot's life is on a hard drive. "But, it's different when you see it in real life~!" His fathers negativity is not enough to get him down. But his positivity does not spread to his father. "Doubt it... But fine, show me your briefcase." Elliot happily runs off to his room to fetch the present he made for his father. It only takes a few seconds, then he runs back to the living room, proudly holding it out to his father. The thing he was working on earlier is a separate present. He makes his father multiple presents. It's a very useful briefcase. He had done some studying on how they work and made a bunch of blueprints to find ways to make them more efficient: ie. Lighter while still being able to carry the same amount, or utilizing more organization, or being able to store more for the same weight. Or all combined into one. He spent weeks drafting and redrafting designs for this. The final product is immaculate. Sleek and modern while bearing some personal touches, like his fathers name embossed in the well treated leather. And there are some fancy patterns engraved around the edges to add a more expensive look to it. It looks professional. And the inside of it is pretty similar to a normal briefcase, but it does have some differences to add more capabilities and functionality to it, based around the specific needs of his father. Not everyone uses them the same way, so they have to be more generic. But a specific person has a more specific style of use. So, Elliot can skew the functionality towards that. "Elliot... I have a briefcase." "I know, but... Just hold it, please?" The father reluctantly sits up to take the gift from Elliot, opening it up and inspecting it. "... You're going to be an entrepreneur one day." "That's the plan~!" Elliot smiles and hops onto the couch next to his father, just happy that he didn't totally reject the gift. Thats a win in his books. "One day I'm going to be just like you." "Good luck with that, kid..." The father sets the briefcase down next to his old one before sitting back against the couch again, gently placing an arm around Elliot. "You might be able to craft, but you have no spine." "I'll hire people to be my spine!" His father snorts for a second. "Alright, you do that~" Elliot smiles brightly and moves over to be closer to his father. Not exactly cuddling with him, they're not exactly the cuddling kind of family. That half hug his father gave him is very affectionate in terms of this family. "I should be able to have your other gift finished before you leave again." "You don't need to worry about that. You should be focusing your efforts on getting into a good college. And finding a way to pay for it." "I already have that covered~" Elliot shrugs. "Did you get anything for me?" "No, sorry." Elliot may put all this effort in to make his father happy, but it will never be reciprocated.

Surely, this is enough. Valentine's Day, at sunset. He stands by the lake, where the tranquil water mirror the marigold and amber hues of the sky. Fireflies dance in the tall grass, tiny stars come to life. A wooden dock stands planted in the middle of the tall grass, reaching out over the water. He had worked carefully, planting four posts into the earth, wrapping them with strands of fairy lights. The wires dip between them in inverted arches. Merely an enhancement; a window into the beauty of nature most people miss. Two firefly lamps sit on either side of the dock. The outside is ornate, hand-crafted. Golden vines wrapping around the glass encasing, with flower speckled around. The same flowers that were there during their first date. The posts with the fairy lights have similar engravings. This should not be "too much". Nor too little. This *should* be just right. If he shows up, that is. The window is short; mother nature does not wait. This perfect lighting will not last forever. Then, it *won't* be enough. "How long did this one take to set up?" A voice sounds from behind him. Elliot spins around to look at his lover with a smile. He came. On time. This never happens. "Oh, uh, only a couple hours... Light work, don't worry." It's rare for Elliot to dress in a cohesive way. Most of the time, it looks like a hodgepodge from several different styles. He puts in more effort for his "surprises," though. His hair, long auburn hair, is slightly wavy and curled, with a half up half down braid accentuated with matching flowers from the lamps and posts. Normally, he leaves it in a ponytail and calls it a day, but Nico always says he looks nicer with it down. Since it is Valentines day, he decided to use a warm color pallette for his clothes. A soft red, hand-made crocheted sweater with paw prints on the sleeves, paired with burgundy pants. Simple, but cohesive enough. Meanwhile, Nico is only slightly fancier than normal. Dressier pants than his usual sweats and a dark, button down shirt. Anything would look good on him; Nico is the embodiment of tall, dark, and handsome. Slick black hair, dark eyes, and physique that is to die for. He doesn't have to try. "You really shouldn't waste so much time on things like this..." Nico looks around at the scenery. "But, since we're here, I'm assuming you have a plan?" "Yes." Elliot is completely unphased by Nico apathetic response, choosing to focus on the positives; he's willing to go along with stuff today. "I brought some food for us to share, there's a..." He hesitates, praying Nico doesn't think this part is too much. "There's a firework show in a few minutes. On the other side of the lake." So they would have the perfect view. Yes, he hired a firework display. "El..." Nico brings his attention back to his boyfriend. "You really don't need to go through all this. Just a night at a restaurant would've been fine." Would've been fine for Nico. But a restaurant is not *Elliot*. "Too late to cancel on me." Elliot states simply before kneeling down beside a Discman he had hidden behind one of the trees looming over the lake. "Just let yourself live in the now. Trust me, you won't regret it." He inserts a burned CD with a playlist of songs he added. First up: Can't Help Falling in Love by Elvis Presley. Nico doesn't like the faster songs Elliot would've picked, so he wanted to start off with a classic. "Elliot..." Nico can't help but smile a little (fucking finally). "I ca—" Before he has the chance to protest, Elliot is back up on his feet, pulling him under the fairy lights. "Then let me take the lead~ Nobody else is here. Nobody to impress." He doesn't answer right away, looking at Elliot in the dim, golden light. His hair seems to glow, illuminated by the sunset perfectly. Magically. "Just one song!" Elliot pushes. "I don't ask for much." "... Okay, fine." Elliot beams, and without a second to spare, pulls Nico into the rhythm. Into the song, the scene. He leads, his movement natural. Nico follows, his arm finding Elliot's waist while Elliot wraps his arms over his shoulders. They sway, slow and unhurried. Everything about this moment is so Elliot; thoughtful, intentional, just a little over the top, but undeniably heartfelt. Elliot rests his head on Nico's chest, speaking quietly. "See? This isn't so bad." "Shut up," he shoots back, but his tone is soft. Once the song comes to an end, Elliot leans up to give Nico a quick kiss before letting go. "I won't force you to do another, don't worry~" Nico chuckles softly. "Good~" He finds a spot to sit down next to one of the posts. "I'm not really good at that kind of thing." "It doesn't matter if you're good or not, silly." He goes back to where the discman is, beside the tree. That's where he stashed everything to keep it all out of the view. "Anyway, I did get you something. My father came back from France a few days ago, I made sure to ask him to bring something back." He takes a small bag and gives it to Nico, sitting down in front of him with a smile. The bag itself isn't anything special, just something to hide the gift in. Inside is a small box of chocolates, which you can only get from that area in France. Nico looks at Elliot, then pulls him into a hug. "I don't know how you manage to do all of this." "I just know how to pull some strings," he says with a chuckle. Nico shakes his head, exhaling a quiet laugh. "You're ridiculous." "Yeah, yeah. But you love me anyway." The first crack of fireworks splits the sky, pulling their attention to the sky. A heart in the sky, a mesmorizing painting against the sunset canvas. A display for all couples in the area. Elliot shifts to rest his head on Nico while they watch the fireworks. This is enough.

Jacob groans, squeezing his eyes shut as he brings an arm up to pinch the bridge of his nose. After what feels like hours has gone by, he is now lying down on the couch, staring up at the ceiling in frustration. Sam has moved to the couch across from him. "Now, Jacob, it's really quite simple, if you just picture the numbers in your head and—" and blah blah blah blah. That's all Jacob hears. Sam says more, but it's all blurring together. "Sam, can we be done for now?" "But... You still have another hour scheduled- You'd be wasting your money." "This isn't helping!" He opens his eyes and sits up, looking at Sam. "I need a break. What kinds of games do you have? You must have some good ones, you probably have access to everything~" "I uh... My parents get annoyed with me playing video games... I tend to break the TV, then they have to replace it. It's just a hassle, innit?" "I uh... My parents get annoyed with me playing video games... I tend to break the TV, then they have to replace it. It's just a hassle, innit?" Jacob pauses. A couple of things stand out. First, the giant cinema-sized TV gets broken that often? Just casually destroying expensive electronics like it's nothing? Sure. Totally normal. Second, the accent. Again. This isn't the first time Sam's speech has shifted mid-sentence. All day, he's been slipping into different accents at random. Mostly, he sounds American, but then a phrase or two will come out distinctly British, or Swedish, or... something Jacob can't quite place. And the weirdest part? It doesn't feel intentional. He's not mocking anyone, not putting on a show; it just happens. "Why do you break the TV?" Sam shrugs, swinging his legs back and forth over the edge of the couch. "I get mad and throw the controller at it." You know, the thing any kid would do if they had a cinema sized TV. Simply destroy it every other day. But this kid seems so pure and carefree, there's no way he would get that mad over a video game. There's just no way. "C'mon, can we at least play one game? How about Mario Kart? It'll be fun! Isn't that why you wanted to tutor, to have a friend? Friends play games with each other!" Sam sets his pencil down, looking up at Jacob and crossing his arms as he considers the offer, deep in thought. He really is thinking about the pros and cons... of Mario Kart. After several moments pass, he nods. "Fine, but you owe me a cookie." "I— What?! You are rich, why do you need me to buy you a cookie?" "Playing games isn't part of my job, it costs extra." The smugness in Sam's tone make the corners of Jacob's mouth twitch upward as he stares at the blonde in disbelief. It is just a cookie, so it's not like it'll be that hard to bring next session. Jacob wasn't expecting Sam to be so strict with his payment though. "Fine! I'll get you a cookie. Now, what consol—" "Make it a chocolate chip cookie." Sam cuts Jacob off before he can finish. Sheesh, this kid is demanding. "You'll get what you get. Final offer." Jacob isn't going to put up with this kid being that picky. "Fine, but I get to pick characters first." Sam hops off the couch, walking on over to the TV. He kneels down to open up the cabinet in the TV stand. That's where the remotes are. Of course, he doesn't have the default controllers that come with the console, he has custom controllers. Is everything this kid owns a flex? "Would you like blue or red?" He asks as he looks back over at Jacob, holding two controllers in his hands. "Red," Jacob answers. He was not ready, however, for Sam to throw the red controller at him. Luckily, he manages to catch it, but only barely. "Careful!" Sam waves off Jacob's concern, grabbing a green controller for himself as well as the TV remote before closing the cabinet doors. Then he gets up and runs over to jumps onto the same couch as Jacob, landing in a strange position. But he seems perfectly content with his position, only adjusting it slightly to be able to point the remote at the tv and turn it on. The stereos on either side also power up, startling Jacob a bit when the console plays that turning on sound. He stays quiet as Sam gets Mario Kart started and picks out his character, interested to see who he would pick. Yoshi. He picks Yoshi. Jacob smiles a little, deciding to pick Luigi. "How often do you play Mario Kart? Who do you think is going to win~?" "You're going down." Jacob can't tell what accent that was, but it was definitely a different accent. He's getting used to that by now though. "Whatever you say~" The race starts. Right off the bat, Sam does take the lead. He probably has played a lot more than Jacob has, so that makes sense. But he also seems intensely competitive over this. A lot more than Jacob was expecting. "I told you I would win~" Okay, he doesn't need to rub it in. That's just rude. But, Jacob can tell Sam doesn't mean that offensively, he's just so focused on winning that he lost any sense of politeness. "Not for long~!" Jacob grins as he decides to reach over and snatch that green controller away from Sam. The blonde gasps dramatically and fights to get his controller back. "How dare you!" Jacob holds the controller up high in the air, using his free hand to continue playing as best as he can. He can't really steer that well with just one hand, but he's certainly making more progress than Sam. "Give it back!" Jacob lets out a surprised laugh as he suddenly feels Sam digging a hand into his exposed side since he has his arm raised up, tickling him. He quickly brings his arm back down to defend himself. "Hehehey! If tickling is allowed, you're in big trouble, mister!" Sam grabs his controller out of Jacob's hand, getting his character back on the road. "It's not allowed, but nor is stealing my controller, poppyhead." Jacob laughs again at the attempt of an insult. "Alright, alright, I won't cheat anymore~ Nerd~" "Ey! Nerd pride!" Jacob smirks, ready to tease him further, but the sound of the front door opening and shutting cuts the moment short. Sam quickly pauses the game, whatever happy and energetic feelings he had vanishing from his face. "Mom's home... Pops shuts the door louder than that." Sam was right. A woman starts to walk by the living room, but pauses to look at the two young boys. "Why aren't you two studying? I thought you were creating a little... Study circle or whatever." Her voice is cold. She wears a fancy black and white dress with a frilly v-line collar to it. She has the same eyes as Sam, but light brown, straight hair instead of blond and wavy. "W-we were, but Jacob here was getting overwhelmed. You know how quickly people get sick of talking to me," Sam fiddles around with the controller in his hands. Then he decided to quickly set it down. "Sorry, we'll get right back to work." There's that accent again, this time distinctly British. "Good." The woman continues past the living room, disappearing behind a wall soon enough. Jacob glances over at Sam, his heart sinking as he sees tears welling up in his eyes. But the blond quickly pushes his glasses up slightly as he wipes the tears away, shaking his head. "Sorry, we should get back to studying. That's what you're here for." Jacob shakes his head, setting his controller down and reaching out to pull Sam into a hug. "No, Sam... Is she always like that?" The tears start to well up again because Sam isn't used to people making an effort to comfort him. He shakes his head. "No, she probably just didn't get a deal she wanted. But it's okay, really. Let's just work. You need to get your grades up." He tries to push away from Jacob, but Jacob pulls him back just one more time. He's not going to continue to force Sam into a hug, but he feels like the kid needs a little more encouragement first. And Jacob was right, because then the younger boy just collapses into his arms, crying softly. "Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm here." Jacob wraps his arms around Sam, gently rubbing his back. He really did not expect tutoring to turn out like this. But, he's already found that he really likes this kid. Even if they've only been hanging out for an hour or so. He gets attaches to people very easily. The blonde curls up in his arms, crying quietly and struggling to try to stop crying. He isn't very successful. "I'm sorry. I'm supposed to be... Professional... I shouldn't have... Given in... To your offer." He gets out between breaths. "No, no, that's not your fault. I don't care if you're professional or not~ I did learn a bit from you already. I'm just a bit slow, sometimes I need a break. That is not on you." Jacob tries to soothe Sam as best as he can, not sure what to say to make this better. "I'll get you that cookie tomorrow~" That seems to grab Sam's attention and distract him from what just happened. "Chocolate chip, just like you asked~ I'll even have it homemade! How does that sound?" He nods, sniffling a little as he wipes away his tears again. But he doesn't move away from the hug. "Alright~ Sounds like a plan," Jacob smiles, gently running his fingers through Sam's messy hair. "Now, what was that you were saying before about imagining the numbers in your head?" That gets a small smile out of Sam. "Well, if you can picture numbers in your head, then multiplication and division become really easy. You just—" And he's off again, ranting about math. Jacob tries to follow along with what he's saying, but he only really gets about half of it. But, at least it cheered Sam up again. And at least he won't get in trouble for this.

The next day, Jacob goes about his first 4 classes like normal. Strangely enough, during math class, he can't help but hear Sam's voice in his head reminding him of a simpler way to do multiplication. He still doesn't really understand what the kid was trying to say, but he's able to keep up with the teacher slightly more. His 5th period however is lunch. Like normal, he waits in line to grab some food. His mother normally doesn't have enough time to pack him a lunch, so he has the school's lunch. As he's punching his number into the register thing though so the money can be taken out of his account for the meal, he notices a neon color out of the corner of his eye. He quickly glances over in that direction. What is Sam doing having lunch in this period? Isn't his grade supposed to be having recess right now? But there's no doubt about it, there Sam is, sitting at a table by himself. A smile tugs at Jacob's lips. You would think a rich kid would have a sense of style, but nope. There Sam is, perfectly content wear some absurdly bright shorts paired with a green shirt that says "I look at the Table of Elements, Periodically." What does that even mean? He decides to walk over and set his tray down at Sam's table instead of his normal table, setting his bag down near a chair. The boys at his normal table look over at him, confused, but he waves them off with a smile, mouthing to them "You can talk without me." Then he takes a seat across from Sam. "Hey, Sammy~ How's it going?" "Do not ruin your popularity by sitting with me," Sam says bluntly in a sort of Australian accent, not looking up from the homework he's currently trying to fill out. He really breezes right through the assignment, not seemingly to get stuck on a single question. "You're cute~ Why would sitting with you ruin my 'popularity'?" Jacob can't help his smile from growing a bit more as he sees the tips of Sam's ears tinge a shade of pink with the compliments. Not his cheeks, just the tips of his ears. "Besides, what are you doing here anyway? Aren't you supposed to be at recess?" "I have special permission to not go to recess." "Why would you WANT to skip recess?" "I got bored of throwing a tennis ball at the wall and catching it repeatedly. I can even do it with a basketball, one-handed." Oh. Right... He doesn't really have any friends, so recess wouldn't be fun for him. He'd rather have fun... Sitting in the cafeteria doing homework. Because that sounds like so much fun. Now Jacob feels like he dampened the mood. He needs a way to lighten the conversation again. "Oh! I got that cookie for you~ My mom and I cooked a whole batch!" He reaches down to unzip his bookbag, retrieving a Ziploc bag of chocolate chip cookies from it. When he holds them up proudly to show Sam, the younger boy snatches it right out of his hand. Guess he really wanted that cookie. "Not even a thank you~?" Sam stops mid-unzipping to stare at Jacob like he just suggested something insane. "No." He then goes back to opening the bag, taking a cookie out. Before he tries it though, he glances around briefly, as if making sure it was safe to eat it. Then he starts to nibble on the cookie. Are people really that mean to him? He's 8. What are people in his grade doing to him? At least it doesn't seem to have affected his outlook on life, the kid seems happy and cheerful most of the time. "You should say thank you, but I won't push it~" Jacob pulls his tray over, picking up the plastic fork and stabbing it into the old looking green beans. He can't really complain, he doesn't have the money to complain about the quality of food. So, he just eats whatever's given. "What are you working on?" "Don't talk with your mouth full." Jacob rolls his eyes, swallowing his food before speaking now. "That's a weird homework name~" "No, that's not the name of the assignment, I was telling you not to talk with food in your mouth." The sarcasm went right over Sam's head. A subtle grin forms on Jacob's face as he decides to mess with Sam a bit by keeping up this little joke. "What? But... I asked you a question and you answered!" "Yes, but I wasn't answering your question, I was telling you not to do something." "That... I don't understand... Is your assignment not named 'Don't talk with your mouth full'?" Sam is clearly getting frustrated with this conversation. He puts his cookie down with an annoyed sigh, shaking his head. "No, I'm working on science!" "... About the implications of talking with your mouth full?" It is getting hard for Jacob to maintain a straight face as he talks. The blonde looks at Jacob, his eyes full of frustrated annoyance. Then, out if nowhere, he grabs the cookie again and throws it right at Jacob's head. "No, you nincompoop!" Luckily, Jacob is able to duck out of the way just in time, and the cookie lands on the floor behind him. He starts laughing, unable to keep it together for any longer. "Nincom-what?!" "A stupid person!" The brunette breaks down laughing more, putting his fork down and hugging himself as he laughs. Sam wasn't lying about breaking the TV, that's for sure. "Sahaham! Sammy~ I was juhuhust messing with you! I knew what you meant~" Sam takes another cookie out of the bag and throws that one at Jacob too. "You pooppyface!" Jacob doesn't fully dodge this cookie, it bounces off his shoulder and falls back onto the table, crumbling into pieces with the impact. But Jacob doesn't care, he's laughing too much to care. "I'm sorry!" The blonde crosses his arms childishly as he watches the other laugh at this whole conversation. It's not his fault that people don't mean what they say... "Jerk..." He turns away dramatically. This only makes Jacob laugh more. "I'm not playing Mario Kart with you again!" "Nononono! I'm sorry! Sammy, I'm sohohohorry, I won't ever do it again. I promise!" Jacob says quickly as he tries to calm himself down, a few giggles and chuckles still managing to get by his defenses. "We'll see how I feel after school." That is Sam's final decision. "Now let me work in peace." "Work on your science project about not talking with your mouth full~?" Sam picks up another cookie and raises it up with a sharp inhale, ready to throw it. "Sorry, thats the last one, I swear~" Sam puts the cookie down. "Do you actually want to be left alone? I can go to another table if you want. I just wanted to chat for a bit. But I don't think it'd be safe to mess with you any more~" "I won't be a great conversationalist. You're going to see me after school anyway." Jacob nods, a wide smile still stuck on his face. "Alright. Well, it was fun talk with you~!" Jacob gets up and picks up his bookbag, slinging it over his shoulder. Then he picks up his lunch tray to go join his friends at his normal table.

Later that day, Jacob takes the bus to Sam's house again. When Sam answers the door, Jacob freezes. The kid is in full black, skin-tight clothes. Not like gym shorts or a tank top—long sleeves, leggings, the works. It looks *athletic*, but it also looks *wrong*. Especially with his glasses. Jacob stares. Opens his mouth. Nothing comes out. Confusion has left him tongue-tied. "...Are you okay?" Sam tilts his head. He doesn't even seem to realize what could be so confusing. Jacob gestures vaguely at him. "What are you *wearing*?" "Oh! This? There's no time between your tutoring session and my dance class today, so I'm going to wear this for the session. It is still clothes, so I don't think it's inappropriate- That's why I needed to get homework done during recess today and couldn't talk much." Jacob blinks. "Wait. *Dance class*?" "Mhm. Come on, we can't start late." Sam steps aside to let him in. He snaps out of his thoughts for long enough to be able to follow Sam inside, staring at the outfit in disbelief. He can't help it. He can't wrap his mind around this new piece of information. "Is there anything you can't do?" "I can't swim," Sam offers up as he brings Jacob to the living room and sits down on one of the couches. "And as you already figured out, I can't pick up on sarcasm sometimes." So, his parents get him dancing lessons but cheap out on the swimming lessons? The objectively more important skill to have. "Also, I was thinking next time, we could go to your place, that way you're not tempted by the TV. You will have a week to think about it since you scheduled for only two days a week." How thoughtful... Jacob takes a seat next to Sam on the couch, setting his bookbag down and opening it up. "Does that mean you would have to take the bus~?" "What? No." "... I don't want you pulling up in a limo or something." He doesn't want him mother to see that and start worrying about if she's providing enough for him to have a good life. "A limo? Absolutely not. I'll be traveling via private jet." Sam's tone does not change, it is just as blunt as normal. Jacob cannot tell if what he said is a joke. He stares at the blond for a few seconds, trying to see if he's being serious. "... That was sarcastic," Sam clarifies. "You are not good at being sarcastic, sorry." Sam shrugs, not really affected by that. He just accepts it. "What did you want to work on today?" Jacob returns his gaze to his bag to take out a folder and a pencil, which he sets on the table. "You seem to know a lot of big words. So... Can you help me with English? Wait, no, I still don't have a real answer to my question. If you're not taking the bus, how will you get to my house?" "A normal car. And yes, we can work on English." He leans forward to open the folder and see what's in it, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "What does me knowing big words have to do with using -ing verbs in a sentence?" "You probably know some really impressive -ing verbs!" "I mean, I don't like acquiescing," he offers. Jacob flings his arms apart, a dramatic gesture to that word. "See! What does that mean?" "To accept something reluctantly but without protest." "Why do you know this?" "I read the dictionary." ... Is that a joke? Sam's tone is still the same again, there is no hint of this being a joke. It sounds completely serious, like normal. "That's a joke... Right?" Sam tilts his head, furrowing his eyebrows. "Why would that be a joke?" "What is an eight-year-old doing reading a dictionary?!" "I was bored! I didn't memorize every word, only the ones I found interesting! And I thought it would be helpful when learning different languages in the future." Jacob drags a hand down his face. "You were bored so you read the dictiona—" He stops himself. "No, this is a joke. You're getting back at me for earlier today. I said I was sorry!" Sam hops off the couch suddenly and runs over to a nearby bookshelf to take a book out. Then he comes back and hands it to Jacob. It's the dictionary. "Owning a dictionary proves nothing—" "Open it." The brunette looks at the younger boy skeptically before opening to a random page. There are notes. Very messy handwriting, but there are notes. And some words are highlighted. This man took notes in the dictionary. He is a menace to society, someone needs to stop him. "Now, can we get to work?" The blonde asks as he sits back down, taking a paper out of Jacob's folder so they can get started on that worksheet. Jacob exhales, shaking his head. He wants to keep learning more about this kid. Honestly, he'd rather just hang out without having to pay to spend time with him. But he has no idea how to bring that up. For now, he just closes the dictionary and nudges it aside. "Sure~" He smiles, deciding to focus solely on academics for the rest of his time with Sam today. Don't think about the new outfit and the extreme clash it has with those Harry Potter glasses, don't think about that stuff. Focus on English. Surely there isn't too much more about this kid that could surprise him. For the rest of the hour, Sam helps Jacob with identifying what -ing verbs and how to use them properly, as well as why they're important; how they add action and flow to a sentence. Why they're better than using passive voice. Jacob doesn't really know what passive voice means, but he sort of started to see how having an action 'in action' is more interesting than if the action has already been completed or is about to happen.

The next week is uneventful until one of the tutoring sessions is scheduled for. Jacob finds Sam at lunch a few times, so he would join him and mess with the kid for a little while before inevitably being shooed away to his own table. Eventually, though, Thursday rolls around. The tutoring sessions are on Thursday and Friday. Jacob anxiously paces back and forth in the living room, waiting for the doorbell to ring or for a knock on the door. His mother sits on the couch, watching this quietly. She is quite a small woman, with the same caramel brown, messy hair as Jacob. Her eyes are hazel and filled with the same love and compassion that fill Jacob's eyes. "Jakey, why are you so nervous for this kid to stop by?" She asks in a gentle tone, wanting to help her son calm down. "He's from a rich family," Jacob blurts, running a hand through his hair. "What if he makes some backhanded comment about you? Or how small the house is? And that's not an insult to you! I love this place. But he might find it... small." She chuckles, shaking her head. "Don't worry about that. Focus on improving your grades.” Her smile softens. “Are you sure that's all that's bothering you? Is this boy…?" Jacob's face heats up as his cheeks turn a rosy pink. "No! Just because I came out doesn't mean I like every guy I meet! I just... wouldn't mind holding hands with some boys at school- But I don't want that with girls. I think..." His mother raises her hands up defensively, not pushing that any further. "Alright. I wanted to ask just in case." The doorbell chimes before Jacob can overthink her words. He nearly trips over himself rushing to answer it. As he swings open the door, Sam stands outside with his usual bright smile, a tall man in a black suit beside him. The young boy looks up at the man. "You can go now." "As you wish." The man bows before retreating to the car Sam came in. He then looks back to Jacob with that same bright smile. "Is this your vacation home or something?" No, he cannot comprehend that some people can't afford a mansion. Jacob blinks. “No... this is my home.” He sighs, bracing himself. “Before you come in, I need to tell you—my mom has a medical condition. Please don't make any comments about it. If you have questions, ask me, but don't be rude.” Sam tilts his head. “When am I ever rude?” Jacob doesn't dignify that with an answer. “Just come in. And take your shoes off by the door.” Sam nods, stepping inside and kneeling to untie his shoes. When he stands, his gaze immediately lands on Jacob's mother, who's risen from the couch to greet him. "Is that your sister?" Sam asks. "That's my mom." "Is the medical condition that she's a child?" The mother walks over to join the two, smiling sweetly. "No, sweetie, it's called dwarfism. This just means I'm a small person~" She stands no taller than 4 feet. Jacob is at least 4'2" currently, taller than his mother. "Ooohhhhh... I think I read about that before. Cool! Is Jacob going to be like you too?" Jacob sighs and nods. "This is probably as tall as I'm going to get..." "That's unfortunate. I'm going to be big like my dad!" "Yeah, way to rub it in... You're never rude..." His mother chuckles. “Well, I'll leave you two to it. There are snacks in the kitchen if you get hungry—” “Snacks?” Sam's face lights up. “Yes~” She gestures toward the kitchen before heading to the basement. “I'll be downstairs if you need anything.” Jacob watches her go before turning to Sam. “She's a sweet lady~” Sam says. “Where are we studying?” "In my room. That way, we can't be 'tempted' by the TV~ Follow me." He offers Sam his hand without thinking about it. The blond takes it without hesitation. A blush spreads across his Jacob's. Maybe his mother was right... Nope! This kid is two years younger than him—that'd be weird. Right? But then again, high school seniors date sophomores all the time… Whatever. Doesn't matter. That's not why Sam's here. He's here to teach, and Jacob is here to learn. End of story. He shakes off the thought as they reach his room. Sam lets go of his hand, immediately turning in circles to take in the walls covered in band posters—one of which features Jacob's father. A poster he still can't bring himself to take down, even after… the fight... Sam's gaze soon lands on the guitar case next to Jacob's bed, and he kneels down, reaching out to touch it. Jacob is quick to pull Sam away. "No no, no touching that." "Do you know how to play?" He asks in a very excited tone as he turns around to look at Jacob. "Can you play a song for me?" Fudge. How can he say no to that face? Sam looks so pure, a pleading glint in his eyes, joined with genuine curiosity. "My father taught me how to play, but... No, I..." Sam looks like a kicked puppy. "We shouldn't be wasting our time with that! I need help understanding how photosynthesis works. There's a quiz on it tomorrow." "I'll stay an extra half hour, free of charge!" Jacob goes quiet for a few moments, trying his best to resist Sam's sad puppy eyes, but he can't. He can't say no! "Fine... But only one song! Then you need to actually help me." Sam cheers up immediately, jumping up and down in place with joy. He may not speak like a child very often, but he certainly acts like one. "What songs do you know?" "What song do you want?" Jacob kneels down to open the guitar case carefully. "The pi song!" Jacob freezes. "The what?" "You know... 3.14159, this is pi, followed by 2653589, circumference over di-ameter..." He actually sings that. Well, not trying to sing, he can't help but follow the song's tune. This is the kind of music Sam listens to? Then Sam gasps, practically having a light bulb appear over his head. "We can do both! What if we made up a song about photosynthesis? Then during the quiz, all you would need is to have the tune in your head, and you would remember it!" Jacob laughs, not expecting to ever hear an idea like that, from anyone. But, he should've known Sam would suggest something like that. It doesn't sound like a half-bad idea, though. "Sure~ Let's write a song about photosynthesis~" He takes the guitar out of the case, sitting down at the edge of the bed with it in his arms. Sam beams with happiness, looking around quickly for some paper and a pencil or something to write with. "Alright. I'll explain how photosynthesis works, then you translate it into lyrics!" "Sounds like a plan~"

The next day during science class, Jacob is able to ace that quiz about photosynthesis. The entire time, he was quietly humming the melody he and Sam had composed. He even hums it on his way to the cafeteria. This time as he's walking up the cafeteria, though, he gets stopped just outside the door. Sam was waiting by the door, a bit anxiously. But when he sees Jacob, his face lights up as he quickly reaches out to grab his hand. "Jacob! You don't need that gross school food; I brought you something!" He says excitedly as he tries to drag the older boy with him out to the tables to sit down. Jacob just got hit with a whirlwind of emotions. Does this mean they're actually friends now? Does Sam see him as more than just someone he has to tutor? And what kind of food would Sam bring? As Jacob follows Sam toward their usual lunch spot, something feels off. The blonde suddenly slows down, hesitating mid-step. Jacob follows his gaze and quickly spots the problem—a taller, broad-shouldered kid standing right by the table Sam usually takes. The guy looks impatient, arms crossed. Jacob doesn't like the way Sam tenses up beside him. "Sammy?" he asks quietly, but before Sam can answer, the kid turns toward them, his lips curling into a smirk. "There you are, pipsqueak," the bully sneers, stepping forward. "Took you long enough. Where's that money you promised me?" Sam instinctively takes a step back. "I-I never promised you anything-" "Oh yeah?" The kid cocks his head, taking another step toward them. "You sure about that? 'Cause I remember you saying you'd pay me back." He cracks his knuckles. "Maybe I can jog your memory." Jacob doesn't even think. He steps in front of Sam, his heart pounding as he plants himself between them. Sam doesn't even hesitate before ducking behind him. "He said he didn't promise you anything," Jacob says firmly, standing his ground. "So I'd back off if I were you." The bully scoffs. "And what are you gonna do about it?" Jacob lifts his chin, eyes darting toward the cafeteria entrance where a few of his classmates are sitting. Then, he smirks. "See that table over there? My friends are watching. There's, what, ten of them? You might be able to take on two of us, but I doubt you'd last against all of them." The bully glances toward the group, his expression faltering for a split second. He clicks his tongue in irritation, then huffs. "Tch. Not worth my time." With that, he turns on his heel and stalks off. Jacob doesn't relax until he's sure the guy is gone. The second he turns to check on Sam, though, the blonde nearly knocks the air out of him—arms wrapped tight around his middle, face pressed against his shoulder. "Sammy? Are you okay?" "I hate when they do that..." Sam whispers against his shirt. Jacob softens, wrapping his arms around Sam in return. "I know. But you're okay now. I'm here." He gives Sam a reassuring squeeze. "Wanna go eat somewhere else? Away from all this?" Sam just nods. "Alright, let's go." Jacob takes his hand, leading him toward the courtyard. "Why don't you go to the courtyard normally?" He's trying to distract the other from what just happened, leading him toward the courtyard door. "I don't like bugs in my food..." Jacob chuckles softly as he opens the door and follows Sam out. "That's it?" "And... I don't think it's fair for me to eat somewhere else just because of Mom..." That's why that kid was asking for money. Sam's parents are rich, and he's an easy target. The brunette brings the other out to a nice table in the courtyard, setting his bag down by the table and sitting down. "It's not fair for you to be treated like that at all..." Sam sets his bag down before hesitantly settling beside Jacob. He hesitates for a moment, then carefully lifts Jacob's arm, shifting closer until it can rest naturally around him. His movements are slow, almost timid—like he's silently asking permission. When Jacob doesn't pull away, Sam finally leans into him, just slightly. "Sam..." Heat creeps up Jacob's face, but he doesn't resist. Instead, he lets his arm settle around Sam, allowing the younger boy to tuck himself in for comfort. He probably won't even notice the blush. "How often does this happen?" Jacob asks softly. Sam doesn't answer. "Okay," Jacob says quickly. "We don't have to talk about it." He clears his throat, then brightens. "Hey, guess what? The song we wrote worked~ I think I passed the quiz!" Sam still doesn't say anything; he just stays where he is silently. "Oh, come on~ Hey, we could work on your science homework together~ You know, the one about not talking with your mouth full?" He's trying his best. He really is. He doesn't know how to fix the situation. And clearly, he isn't doing a good job whatsoever. Sam takes his glasses off and sets them on the table before turning to hide his face against Jacob, starting to cry. His hands grab onto Jacob's shirt. Jacob is quick to turn so he can more properly hug Sam, holding him close. "Sh sh sh sh sh, it's okay! They're not here anymore. You're okay." He rubs his back, trying his best to help soothe the younger boy, but he has absolutely no idea how to do that. He's copying what he's seen people do on TV. Really though, there is nothing Jacob can do. Sam needs a few minutes to actually let himself be upset over this. Normally, he has to walk it off like nothing happened. After a few minutes, Sam's crying slowly dies down. Jacob's shirt is wet now, but he doesn't care; the nerd is more important. "I-I'm sorry, I do-don't know what got over m-me..." Sam stumbles over his words, sniffling quietly. He pulls away from Jacob slightly, wiping away the remaining tears. "It's okay! That's what friends are for, right?" Sam looks up at Jacob, the tiniest hint of a smile playing on his lips. "We're... Friends?" Unlike the hint that shows up on Sam's face, a full smile spreads across Jacob's face as he nods, pulling Sam in for another hug. "Of course we are!" He playfully ruffles Sam's hair. "Why do you think I join you for lunch sometimes for a few minutes, silly~!" A cute little giggle escapes past Sam's lips as he tries to get away and bat Jacob's hand away from his hair. Now there's a real smile on his face. "Stohop that! I don't exactly have experience with having friends!" The smile on Jacob's face only grows. That little giggle from Sam sounded so cute and bubbly. It alone managed to break the sour mood surrounding them. He wishes he could hear more of it. "You're a lot cuter when you smile~" He reaches over to pick up Sam's glasses and give them to him, which Sam takes and puts back on. "If you want us to be friends, then we are friends." "I'm not cute!" The tips of his ears turn a scarlet red. "But... Yes. I want to be friends." "Okay. Then we are friends~" "Okay. Friends." Sam looks back up at Jacob now that he can see again, a genuine and sweet smile that reaches his eyes on his face. A tender silence falls over the two. That smile makes Jacob blush too, his cheeks turning as red as Sam's ears. He quickly breaks eye contact, looking at Sam's bag on the ground. "I remember you offering me lunch?" "Oh!" Sam scoots away from Jacob quickly, easily distracted by the change of topics. He opens his bag, pulling out a lunchbox. "Sorry, I almost forgot~" He hands the lunchbox to the brunette. Jacob takes it. "Thank you. You didn't have to do this, you know~" He opens the lunchbox. This kid really is rich. This looks like a professionally made meal. "Holy cow-" The blond giggles again. "I thought you would pass your quiz, so I wanted to give you something as congratulations." "And what would you have done if I told you I thought I flunked the quiz~?" "Thrown the lunchbox at you." Jacob reaches over to pull Sam close again, just to be able to ruffle his hair playfully. "You jerk!" He tries to stop Jacob, starting to giggle again. That's a consistent reaction to having his hair ruffled. Good to know. Jacob is definitely taking a mental note of that because it is a very cute reaction. "I can't reward you for not doing good!" He manages to get away from Jacob. "And I didn't mean it. You would've gotten the lunch either way. I had faith in you." Just as his blush was dying down, Sam had to go and say that, making Jacob's blush come back. "... Shut up..." He looks down at the lunchbox and starts to eat. Sam's still ecstatic with the knowledge that he has a new friend. He has a friend! Pops will be so proud of him. "Oh! Also... I was wondering... Would you like to play chess? I thought it would be a good way for you to practice logic." Jacob's gaze jumps back to Sam as he raises an eyebrow. "Were you waiting for us to be friends before asking that?" Sam nods sheepishly. "That's adorable~ Sure. It can't be that bad. You don't need to explain the rules to me. I already know them." Once he has the go-ahead, Sam digs through his backpack to retrieve a small-ish version of chess. A portable version of it while still being big enough to be easily played. That he apparently carries in his backpack. He sets the board down and runs over to the other side of the table so he and Jacob are sat across from one another. "I pick white." He calls out as he starts to set up the board, letting Jacob eat his lunch in the meantime. Jacob does simply eat his lunch while Sam gets everything set up, watching him happily. The kid looks so eager to play, this pure joy clear in his eyes. Once the board is set up, Jacob sets the rest of the food aside for now, scooting over so he's in front of the board. "I'm assuming white goes first?" "I thought you knew the rules?" "I know how the pieces move! Sorry that I don't technically know EVERY rule~" "White does go first." Sam takes one of his knights out. Jacob copies the move. "Don't expect me to be good. I haven't played that much." (Not writing out every move) A few minutes go by, and the two are now well into the mid-game portion of the game. Sam has a clear upper hand on the board, but Jacob doesn't care. However, this is when Sam decides to pull out his secret weapon, even though it's unnecessary. He would win either way. Jacob picks up his bishop. As soon as he does though, the blonde hums in disapproval. "... Is this a bad move or something?" "It's your death, not mine." He puts the bishop back down. Now, he picks up the queen. Sam inhales sharply, tilting his head to the side and furrowing his eyebrows. He puts the queen back down. ... He picks up a pawn. ... No reaction from Sam. He moves the pawn forward one. Sam kills the bishop Jacob originally intended to move. "What?! But you said..." A smug grin spreads across Sam's face. He's not just playing chess; he's playing mind games. He lulled Jacob into a false sense of security by occasionally helping him before, and now it may or may not be a good idea to take his advice. Jacob pouts, now moving his queen to where he wanted to move it before. Sam takes that too. "How?!" That smug grin only widens. He's enjoying this. He finds it fun to watch Jacob suffer; this kid is secretly evil. Jacob picks up his knight, which gets an approving hum from Sam. That has to be good, right? He moves the knight. Sam takes it, giggling quietly to himself. The kid doesn't even have to say a word, and he can make Jacob second guess his entire plan. He's smart enough that people assume he must just know or see something they don't, it gets in their heads. "Alright, that's it! I'm not going to pay any attention to you!" Jacob picks up his other knight. Sam inhales sharply again. Ignore it. Ignore it. It means nothing. He moves the piece but keeps his finger on it, looking around for ways Sam would take it with. This time, he spots the trap, moving the piece back. But the knight is the only plausible thing for him to move. He doesn't have any other useful pieces. With a defeated sigh, he moves the knight. Sam doesn't take the knight. Instead, he takes the pawn from before. Why?! "Check!" Oh... "Mate~" Jacob looks at the situation on the board for several seconds before nodding. "Yup, that's checkmate. What was the point of messing with me like that?" "It distracted you from my plan~" Sam shrugs, taking the board and all the pieces, putting them away. "That was fun!" "That was torture." "Fun!" Jacob rolls his eyes. "Whatever you say~" Right as he says that, the bell rings. For the first time, Jacob stayed with Sam through the entire lunch period.

Friends. They're friends now. For the rest of the day, Sam has a wide smile stuck on his face that he can't seem to get rid of. As soon as school is let out, he runs out to his ride excitedly, which is rare for him. "Daren, Daren! I made a friend! I have a friend!" He's practically bouncing with excitement as Daren steps out to greet him. It's the same man that dropped Sam off at Jacob's house. "He stood up to a mean kid for me and then said we were friends!" He's almost running out of breath because everything he has said so far has been said in the span of like, five seconds. He's speaking too fast for Daren to catch everything. "Sir, with all due respect, calm down." Daren kneels down to be level with Sam. "I am proud of you though. Did you give that boy the lunch?" He nods proudly, beaming with joy. He can't wait to tell Pops all about it! "Good~" Daren smiles and stands back up. "Let's get you situated in the car." Sam nods again, now taking his backpack off to put it in the car. Then he gets in to the back seat. Daren buckles him in. He then goes around to the driver side door and gets in. He doesn't turn the music on. He suspects that Sam wants to keep talking. And he was right. The entire ride home, Sam is going on and on nonstop about how cool Jacob is and how Pops is going to be so proud of him. As soon as they pull into the driveway, Daren barely has time to unbuckle him before Sam grabs his bag and bolts inside. "DAD! DAD! GUESS WHAT?" His voice echoes as he charges up the grand staircase to his father's office, flinging open the door. "I have a friend!" His father, mid-work, stops and turns, a small smile forming. "You do?" Sam tosses his bag aside, sprinting over to jump onto his lap and throw his arms around him. "I have a friend!" The father chuckles softly, hugging the kid back. "Who is it?" "Jacob! The boy I've been tutoring!" "So our little plan worked~?" Sam nods excitedly. "See, I told you that if you found a way to have someone spend some more time with you, they would like you. You haven't been given a chance by anyone else, so you had to create that chance yourself. Good work, kiddo~ And you have actually been helping him academically, correct?" "Mhmm! He passed a science quiz today because of a song we made!" "That's wonderful~ Don't tell you mother." "I won't."

Jacob stares at the tv in complete and utter shock. "Ten-year-old boy, Samuel Broteez, allegedly fed his seven-year-old sister, Lindsey Broteez, to the wolves. What does this mean for the Broteez family? Was it truly an act of horrific spite or merely an accident? More on this after the break." Sam? No, there's no way. He's far too sweet and innocent to feed someone to the wolves. He may be rude at times, but that's simply because he doesn't think the blonde understands how many social interactions work, not because he genuinely intends to hurt people. He looks up at his mother. "This... This can't be true... Right? He... He's too pure for something like this!" His mother is just as shocked as him. "No... I don't think it's true... From what you told me about how he acts when his sister is around, I doubt he had any malicious intentions toward her. This must just be the news hyping up the event..." "But isn't that... What's the word... You know... The legal thing, where you can't lie about someone to bring their reputation down!" "Slander? Yes, it might fall under the category of slander." She gently puts an arm around Jacob. "Do you want me to change the channel? Or would you like to see the rest of what the news has to say about this?" "Keep it here." Jacob leans into his mother's hold. He can already feel his eyes welling up just at the thought of what Sam must be going through right now. How can they put such lighthearted and cheerful commercials after a story like that? Do tv people have no hearts? Eventually, the commercials end, and the news is back. "Welcome back to the Prismorian News Network. Before the break, we mentioned how this ten-year-old boy—" A picture of Sam is shown on screen "—fed his sister to the wolves. When questioned about whether or not this was one purpose, he admitted to it immediately." This has to be a mistake. They must have misinterpreted him or something. "Here is the footage caught leaked by an investigator:" The video is of a policeman questioning Sam in what looks to be one of his parents' vacation houses. Sam is sobbing, agreeing to whatever the policeman asks. "This is bullshit!" Jacob exclaims. His mother doesn't even bother calling him out on his foul language since foul language is entirely appropriate in this situation. "He didn't admit to anything; he's just scared! Look at him! He probably just wanted to make them stop asking questions, so he agreed to make them happy!" "The news likes to twist reality. I'm sure people will point this out, and he'll be found innocent." "But they're traumatizing an already traumatized kid! His sister just died! He loved his sister... She... She was a sweet kid..." The permanence of the death finally hits Jacob like a ton of bricks. Sam's sister... she's never coming back. He wasn't exactly best friends with the girl, but he did like being around her. "She... She wanted to be a photographer when she grew up... She had plans..." His mother pulls him into a tighter hug, rubbing his back softly and turning the TV to mute. "It's a tragedy... The best we can do for her now is to carry on her memory." Jacob cuddles into her, a few tears rolling down his cheeks. "What about Sam? What can we do for him?" "Well... Since, for some reason, the police think this was a malicious attack, they'll probably take him in for questioning for a few more days. After that... We just have to be there for him. And his family. Let them have time to grieve and process their feelings." She looks down at him, gently running her fingers through his hair. "Remember what we always taught you; it's okay to be sad. You can try to cheer him up, but if nothing works, let him be sad. Just offer a shoulder to cry on. Show him you care." Jacob nods, sniffling a little. "I'll try..." "You don't have to be perfect. You are still just a kid, too; you're still learning how to handle your big feelings~ Don't beat yourself up if he's not receptive to your help." He nods again, going quiet as he stays curled up with his mother. It all seems so crazy. Who would blame a child for this? Why would they think Sam did this?

Sam is away from school for several days. Jacob keeps looking every day, keeping an eye out in the halls and in the cafeteria, but the blonde is nowhere to be found. It's very concerning. Eventually, he decides enough is enough, gets permission from his mother, and then stops by Sam's house after school a week after the incident. He walks up hesitantly and rings the doorbell. Sam's father opens the door. He does not look good. It appears he hasn't shaved since the incident, and a bit of peach fuzz is starting to grow around his jaw. His hair is slightly unkempt as compared to his normal polished appearance. And his eyes have large bags under them from the lack of sleep over the past week. "... Jacob? I'm sorry, but he's not up for tutoring for a while. You're going to have to find another tutor." "Oh, no, Mr. Broteez, I'm here as a friend. I saw the news and was starting to get worried when I didn't see Sam in school. Is it... Is it okay if I see him?" After a long pause, the father nods and steps to the side, letting Jacob in. "He's in his room. Don't be surprised when he kicks you out." "Thank you, Mr. Broteez." Jacob steps inside, taking his shoes off once inside. "Is there anything I can do to help you and the family?" "Showing any form of concern for Sam is helpful enough. I'm going to get back to work..." This... This is very depressing. The house feels so empty. Without the cheerful nature of Sam and his sister running around, the walls seem to loom over the room, the vast empty space almost suffocating. Jacob takes a deep breath before heading up the large spiral staircase and walking down the hall to Sam's room. The door is shut. Usually Sam leaves it open... He knocks on the door lightly. "Sam? It's... It's Jacob." Silence. "I... I'm coming in, Sam." He takes ahold of the handle, twisting it as he slowly creeks the door open to peer inside. Sam sits silently and unmoving on his bed, hugging a pillow to his chest. That innocent, carefree light has left his eyes, leaving them as empty and dreary as the house. They're also red and puffy. He has a few new scars and cuts scattered about his arms and face. His glasses have a crack in them. He has also lost some weight. He used to be a little bit on the chubby side - not exactly fat or anything - but now he is clearly on the skinny side. "S-Sam?..." Jacob shakily steps inside, scared to enter the room. Afraid to enter this dark atmosphere surrounding Sam. But... He has to. He has to help his friend. "I... I'm here for you..." He shuts the door behind himself. "Can... C-Can you look at me? I missed you..." A knife twists in his chest the longer he looks at Sam. It hurt to see him like this. He doesn't want to see him like that. But he must. The blonde doesn't respond; it's like Jacob doesn't even exist to him. Slowly, the older boy takes a few more steps toward the bed, climbing onto it. "Please... I... I care about you. A lot." He crawls over to where Sam is on the bed, reaching a hand up to gently tilt Sam's head towards him. Sam flinches at the touch and quickly back away from Jacob. Those cuts... Are they... Are they from the incident... Or are they from something else? Why would Sam be afraid of touch? He's normally quite affectionate, in fact. "Sammy... Can I... Can I hug you?" He wouldn't usually ask that, but in these circumstances, it seems appropriate. Giving the blonde the option to reject physical affection. After several seconds, he nods. As soon as he does, Jacob scrambles over to pull Sam into a tight hug. "I miss you so much... You don't have to talk, that's okay. But just know I'm here for you. I will never leave you, no matter what. You can count on me to be there for you..." At first, Sam doesn't hug the brunette back, but eventually, after a minute or so, he wraps his arms around Jacob, holding onto him tightly as a quiet sob escapes him. That quiet sob is another stab to Jacob's chest. "Shh... I'm here for you. You can cry all you need to. I'll be right here." "M-mom says I shouldn't cry-" "Forget what she said. Crying is okay. You don't have to hold it in." "Sh-She hit me..." Jacob's heart stops. "How many times?" "Once..." "Recently?" "Sh-She was mad that I... I didn't sign the paper saying I... I killed..." He shakes his head, removing his glasses before burying his head against Jacob and crying. "Sam, listen to me; that is not normal. If she hits you again, that is abuse. If you ever feel unsafe and need a place to stay, you can stay with me and my Mom. We may not be rich like you, but it's a place to stay." This just makes Sam cry more. This is a lot for a ten-year-old to handle. "Why can't I wake up!" "What?..." "This isn't real; why can't I wake up!" Oh... Oh no... The poor kid doesn't want to accept that any of this is happening. "This isn't a dream. It is real. I'm sorry..." "No, it's not!" "Sam... What... What happened that day? Can you tell me? You don't have to if you don't want to." How much did Sam see? "I... I was supposed to be watching Lindsey and Simon. We were in the woods. I looked away for one second, a-and she... She was being torn apart..." He saw everything. The poor kid... And then he got blamed for it... How did it all go so wrong? "I'm here for you now... Do you want me to stay over? I can call my Mom and tell her we're having a sleepover. And... Your Mom might not be as mean with a guest around." The blonde nods. "Okay. Then I'll stay here. I'll be here as long as you need." Jacob holds him a little tighter, resting his chin against Sam's head. He can't take this sadness; not in Sam's eyes. He searches his mind, grasping for anything to bring back even a flicker of light. It really doesn't have to be much. Sam's emotions change like the wind, just with a higher intensity. Sure, this is a much deeper... *Depression* than anything before. And Jacob can't fix that in a day. But he can at least get him to smile. "You remember our first sleepover?" He starts. Sam doesn't respond, just listening. "When I asked if you wanted to go out, I did not mean a "playdate." I meant like a date. A romantic date." The younger boy shifts, looking up at Jacob with confusion. "You... What?" "Yeah," he runs his fingers through Sam's unbrushed hair. "But I couldn't tell you that you were wrong. I can never say no to you when you smile, when you pout, when you purposely annoy me." Sam doesn't know how to answer. The tips of his ears tinge red, and his eyes... There is a flicker of something. "You don't have to say you like me or anything. I just had to say something so out of context your mind would restart. My mother told me that shock or confusion tends to derail negativity~" Sam is still just confused. He isn't thinking about anything from before though, so Jacob's plan did work. He pulls away from the older boy. "So... I rejected you?" "Unfortunately. Many times, actually. And you know, I think that warrants some payback." "Wha-" Before Sam can get a word out, Jacob suddenly pounces, trapping the blonde on the bed as he digs his fingers into his sides. The reaction is instant. Sam squeaks, bursting into helpless giggles as he writhes to escape. "Jahahacob, no!" He never stood a chance. Especially not when Jacob starts targeting his hips, making him dissolve into a fit of squeaky laughter. Jacob finally stops, rolling to the side and letting Sam catch his breath between lingering giggles. The blonde weakly swats at his arm, still recovering from the tickle assault. "You jerk," Sam huffs, though there's no real heat behind it. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes a little brighter than before. Jacob grins, propping his chin in his hand as he watches Sam. "You say that, but you're smiling." Sam rolls his eyes but doesn't argue. Instead, he shifts closer, leaning against Jacob again with a small sigh. "You're annoying," he murmurs. Jacob just hums, resting his cheek against Sam's hair. "And you're stuck with me." A beat of silence. Then, softer— "...Thank you. For being here." "Always."

A few days later, Jacob was just at home, chilling with Keegan and playing some games with him. After joining him on the bus all the time, he and the ginger became friends too. Jacob befriends everyone he comes in contact with. It was late at night, and the two boys were laughing as they played some Minecraft. "Keegan! You don't mine diamonds with a stone pickaxe!" "Why not?! It's slower, but it shouldn't have made the diamonds disappear; that's not how things work!" Jacob laughs and shakes his head. "This is a game; it doesn't follow real-world logic! That's just how it i—" The doorbell rings. Jacob stops, looking at the clock for a second. "It's 10 at night..." Before he can see who's at the door, he watches as his mother comes out of the kitchen to check the door. She stands on her tippy toes to be able to look out the peephole in the door. It is late at night, she doesn't want to risk opening the door to a stranger. "Jacob... It's Sam-" She warns the boys before opening the door. Jacob is up on his feet immediately, running over to see what's wrong. It is indeed Sam. The kid stands outside the door, hugging himself for warmth as he shivers, his phone flashlight on and lighting up the ground beneath him. He is soaking wet from the rainstorm outside. The poor kid looks like a lost puppy. Of course, Jacob's mother lets him inside immediately, not caring about the water getting on the floor. "What's wrong? Are you okay? Here, let me go make you some hot cocoa to warm up. Jacob will get you a towel and a warm blanket." She informs before running off to the kitchen again to make the promised hot chocolate. She would rather have Jacob take care of getting the kid a blanket rather than dealing with cooking, even if it's a simple thing to cook. Before Jacob does anything, he pulls Sam into a hug, ignoring the fact that it's getting him soaked in rainwater too. "Sam... Are you okay? Oh, I'm so sorry you're going through this..." Sam stays frozen in the doorway, trembling. He barely spoke above a whisper. "I... You said I could stay here..." "Yes, you can stay here. That's perfectly fine." He takes Sam's icy hand and pulls him over to the couch. "You stay right here; I'll be right back-" Now Jacob runs off, too, searching for some things for Sam. He comes back about a minute later with two towels and a blanket. He lays one of the towels out on the couch next to Keegan so Sam can sit down without ruining the couch. Then he gives the other towel to Sam. "How long were you out there for?" Sam sits down shakily, turning the flashlight off on his phone. "I don't know... I just ran here..." He takes off his glasses to wipe the water off, his hands unsteady. "M-Mom was yelling at Dad, and... I just... You said to come here if I was scared." He tries to dry off his hair. Soon enough, Jacob's mother comes back out, holding a nice steaming mug of hot cocoa. She offers it to Sam, who quickly takes it and takes a big sip. It does seem to help him stop shivering as much. "You can stay with us tonight if you need." "Yeah, you can stay in my bed with me." His mother looks at Jacob with a questioning glance. "Jacob..." To her, that's like a straight boy offering a girl to sleep in the same bed with him. Not a good idea. Jacob's cheeks turn a bit red. "No, no, no, that's what he prefers!" His mother sighs and looks back down at Sam. "Is it? Would you prefer your own room, a separate bed but in Jacob's room, or to be with Jacob?" "With Jacob. D-Do you have any nightlights?" "No... But we can keep the door open and keep the hallway light on. That way, it's not too bright in the bedroom, but it also isn't dark. How's that sound~?" Sam nods in agreement, taking another sip of the hot chocolate. Meanwhile, Keegan has just been sitting here like, 'wtf is going on-.' He finally speaks up now that it seems things are settling down. "Um... What about me? Also, why did wolf boy come HERE for help?" "What did you just call him?" Jacob snaps his attention to Keegan. "... Wolf boy. That's... That's what everyone else calls him." "His name is Sam," He says firmly. "He's my friend." "Sorry..." "I... Maybe you can still stay in my room with me?" He looks up at his mother. "Just this once. Normally, you're not allowed to have two boys in your room at once, but these are special circumstances. He was planning on sleeping on a separate mattress anyway. You wouldn't be a good host if you kicked him out." "Right." He sits down next to Sam, gently putting an arm around him. "Well... I think Sam could use a distraction. Sammy, do you like Minecraft?" The blonde leans into Jacob's hold, slowly continuing to sip from the hot chocolate mug, mostly warmed up and calm by now. "I don't like playing, but I can watch." "Perfect~!" The older boy looks up at his mother again, smiling a little. "I think we can take it from here. Thank you." "You boys better be in bed before 11. Oh, and Sam, honey, are you allergic to blueberries?" The blonde shakes his head. "Good. We're having blueberry pancakes in the morning." She gets up and leaves the three by themselves. Keegan picks up his controller again, looking at the other two. "How did you two become friends?" Jacob smiles a little. "He's the reason we're friends~ I needed a tutor. So, after school, some days, I would go to his place for tutoring sessions. Which is also why I met you on the bus~" "Oh. That's cool~ But... Isn't he younger than you?" The brunette chuckles softly and nods. "Yes. But he is quite smart, don't underestimate this little guy~ He's very cute too." The tips of Sam's ears turn a little red. "I'm not cute..." Jacob ruffles his hair playfully, getting the younger boy to giggle a little and try to bat his hand away. "See? Adorable~ Once I met him, even though he comes off as blunt, I knew he was a keeper." Keegan nods, though he is a little confused. "I haven't seen guys call each other cute before... Is that normal?" The brunette's cheeks turn red again as he shakes his head. "No, I... I'm a little different. But what's wrong with being different? And why can't guys compliment each other? We deserve to feel good about ourselves too." The redhead thinks about that for a few moments, trying to make sense of that. "Do you... Do you think that I'm cute?" "Yes! I think your freckles are cute~" "Oh..." Keegan says a little sheepishly. "Thank you..." "Now, c'mon, let's play some more Minecraft. We have a house to finish!" Jacob smiles and picks up his controller with his free hand. Sam was quiet during that entire little conversation, but now he puts his hot chocolate mug down and looks up at Jacob. "Are you gay?" He doesn't mean that as an insult; he is genuinely curious. The way Jacob describes himself fits some definitions he's seen in a few places. He didn't fully understand what it meant, but Jacob seemed to fit it. That makes Jacob's entire face turn scarlet red as he smiles nervously, unsure if this will scare Sam away. He has already outright confessed that he tried and failed to ask the kid on a date, it can't hurt. "... Yes... Are you?" "I don't think so. That's interesting, though." He goes back to leaning against Jacob a little. The brunette is not going to complain. He's glad that even though Sam has figured out what he is, the kid isn't judgmental of him or anything. He doesn't think Sam's opinion of his changed even the slightest. Because to Sam, he's still just Jacob. His friend. Someone he can trust. And that doesn't change. So, Keegan and Jacob return to playing Minecraft, with Sam just watching. Eventually, Sam ends up falling asleep, curled up against Jacob as the two boys are still in the middle of gaming. They don't even notice until it's time for bed, and they have to get up; that's when Jacob realizes the blonde is peacefully asleep. Unfortunately, he doesn't think he has the strength to carry the kid, and he doesn't want to leave Sam out here alone. So, he has to gently shakes his shoulder to get his attention. The blonde whines a little, snuggling into Jacob a little more. "It's still dark out..." "I know... But we're going to bed. Do you want to come with us?" Sam whines again, but he does sit up, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Fine..." He holds his hand out, expecting Jacob to take it. The brunette smiles and gets up, taking Sam's hand to pull him up as well. "C'mon, my room is this way." He gestures for Keegan to follow before gently guiding Sam with him toward his room. Once there, Sam lies down on the bed, curling up again as he tries to go back to sleep. Keegan smiles a little as he watches Jacob get into bed too. "He really trusts you," he comments, sitting down on the spare mattress. "Yes, he does..." Jacob gently pulls the blanket up around Sam. "Well, goodnight." He gets into bed.

This was the best he could do. He tried his best. Sam just got done trying to create a makeshift Christmas tree. It looked a lot like that small Christmas tree from Charlie Brown. But... A lot worse- He made it out of paper. Simon's young though, he shouldn't care, right? The material objects aren't the point, the point of a holiday is to be with family. Sam's still too young for employers to take him seriously, not to mention, he has murder on his crime record already. It was proven to be a false accusation, but its still on his record. Nobody wants to hire a child with murder record. He doesn't have the money to buy an actual tree or any ornaments. They can't have the luxury of decorating a tree together. Simon probably wouldn't even like decorating a tree anyway... He sighs softly and sits down as he looks at the tree, barely able to stay standing on the kitchen table. That thing is going to topple over any second. Maybe he should just turn himself and Simon in to social services... They could have a real tree. And probably give him a better life than Sam has to offer. "Looking good, kid!" His fathers voice rings out, the words slurring together as the larger figure stumbles into the kitchen. Probably looking for another bottle of beer. "Wish I could offer you some cash, but..." "Yeah, yeah, mom gave it all away before offing herself. You could at least get a job..." The blonde grumbles, mostly to himself, grimacing at the disgusting smell surrounding his father. That guy could really benefit from taking a shower or brushing his teeth. And maybe vomiting less, that'd help too. "What did you say to me?" The father whips around to look at Sam. "Nothing, nothing, sorry." Sam adverts his gaze to the ground, folding his hands in his lap. "Do you need anything?" The man grumbles and pulls a fresh bottle of beer out of the fridge. "We're running low on beer..." "I'll add it to the shopping list." "Good. And uh... Sorry." After looking at the tree again, that pathetic looking tree, he feels a little bad for yelling at Sam. "For how things are..." He hesitates before awkwardly patting Sam on the back. Then he stumbles back into the living room to collapse on the couch. The young boy nods, biting his bottom lip to keep himself from crying. That's literally the nicest thing his father has said to him for a few years now. And that fact in itself stings. He then feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. He quickly takes it out to see what it was. Jacob sent him a message: "Mind if I stop by?" It takes him a few moments to respond. He's still ashamed to have anyone stop by the house, its a wreck, his father is a mess, and Simon is probably destroying something, but its nothing Jacob hasn't already seen. "Sure." "Good, cuz I'm already here :)" That gets a faint smile out of the blonde. He gets up, making his way to the front door. When he opens it, he finds Jacob standing outside in a puffy jacket and a scarf, holding a small plastic tree in his hands. On of those tiny, one foot tall trees you can find at Walmart or Target. The brunette has a big smile on his face, just like always. "I saw you trying to plan out what looked like one of these during lunch the other day, so I thought I'd get you one." Sam doesn't know what to say, so he just runs up to pull Jacob into a tight hug. Jacob is a little taller than him, so he does have to reach up to be able to do so. "Thank you... I just..." "I know, I know. This is the price of being able to feed everyone for a day, so you didn't want to buy it." Jacob sets the tree down on the front step before hugging Sam back. "You still deserve to have a good Christmas though." It always pains him to see the kid killing himself to give his family everything he can. A child shouldn't have to do that. He will always try to help alleviate some of that stress. "By the way... I also saw you didn't have a heavy jacket... I'm wearing two jackets right now, one is for you. And don't say that you don't take handouts. This is not a handout! This is the Christmas spirit~" Great excuse. Probably the only season he'll be able to get Sam to accept gifts during. The blonde chuckles a little and lets go of Jacob, not wanting him to overheat or anything now that he knows more information. "I did give my jacket to Simon. He started preschool, I didn't want him getting sick." He picks up the tree before gesturing for Jacob to follow him inside. "Would you like anything to drink?" Jacob follows him inside, shutting the door behind himself before taking off his jackets. "No, thats fine. You don't have to worry about tha--" He sees the paper tree. "Thats adorable~" "Oh, shut up~ It's going in the trash now." "No, it most certainly is not! Do not throw that out! Its the cutest thing ever! Quality doesn't matter, look at how much effort you put into it." Sam rolls his eyes, setting the new tree down on the table. "If you want it, you can have it. I just didn't want one of the first Christmases Simon will be able to remember to not have a tree." "Adorable~" He lays the jackets over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. "I think I will take it if you don't want it. You put a lot of thought into it." "Go ahead." Even though he's acting like he doesn't care, that does mean a lot to him. Someone is appreciating his efforts. Someone notices, someone cares. "Is there anything else you came over for?" "Can... Can you help me with math?"

Today is one of the last days in school before Christmas break. One of his last chances to give Jay something. Last year, he didn't bother. Back then, Jay was an enigma, a distant figure with too many walls to breach. But now, Jacob has a better sense of him. A better sense of who he really is. During lunch period, Jacob makes his way to the courtyard, where he knows Jay will be. The tall blonde never seems to like being indoors, which only raises more questions. How did someone like him even enroll himself in school? Jay keeps his secrets, though, and Jacob has learned not to ask too much. Sure enough, he finds Jay stretched out on a picnic bench, staring at the sky. He has one hand holding his sketchbook to his chest, while his other hand rests under his head. His curly blond hair has leaves and twigs tangled in the curls. His clothes are all worn down and torn in places, as if branches snagged the fabric while he was running through the forest. Even though they're still young, he has some stubble along his jawline. His genetics are something else. “Hey,” Jacob says, dropping his bag to the ground as he takes the bench across from Jay. He knows Jay noticed him long before he spoke; he always does. But the blonde doesn't react. No flinch, no glance. Just a steady, quiet presence. It's progress, though. A year ago, if anyone approached without warning, he'd immediately be on guard and create some distance. Now, he doesn't seem to care as long as you don't get *too* close. After a beat, Jay sits up. He rests the sketchbook on his lap and stares at Jacob silently, unblinking. The man doesn't speak. He hasn't spoken besides saying his name when they first met. "I got you a gift." Jacob unzips his bag and pulls out a wrapped box. The wrapping job — a light blue design with snowmen and snowflakes dotting the background — isn't perfect, but there was some effort put in. He pushes it across the table to Jay. Jay stares at the box, unmoving. His expression is as dead as ever. But there's something in his eyes; flicker of curiosity, faint but unmistakable. Jacob has gotten good at reading those small cues, the tiny shifts in Jay's otherwise impenetrable demeanor. "You open it," Jacob prompts. Silence. "Okay," Jacob sighs, pulling the box back towards himself. "I'll do it." He tears the wrapping paper off the box, revealing a set of colored pencils. "I always see you drawing with just a normal pencil. I thought... Maybe some color could be nice. You don't have to take this—" His words are cut off by the box of colored pencils being grabbed away. Apparently, Jay is accepting the gift. A familiar blue glow radiated just over Jay's heart. He's noticed it before, that glow. It always appears when Jay's emotions slip through the cracks. And while Jacob doesn't fully understand it, the pattern is clear enough—it's connected to how Jay feels. His intense gaze stays fixated on the colored pencils for a while. Jacob stays quiet, giving the other time to process and figure out what he wants to do. No need to rush him. Suddenly, he grabs his sketchbook and starts to quickly flip through that pages. Is he... Going to use the pencils immediately? Damn, he's more excited than Jacob thought. That is not what he's doing, however. Once he finds what he's looking for, he tears the page out of the sketchbook and offers it to the brunette. Jacob hesitantly takes the page, flipping it around so he can see what it is. A lifelike drawing of the first time they met. Every detail is accounted for. The fact his messy hair was even messier than usual that day — it was a rough day before Jay showed up —, his outfit, the things that were in his bookbag on that day... How does Jay remember all of that? Did he draw this all from memory? Even the placement of all his freckles are perfect. It could be a photograph. Jacob is speechless at first, his fingers tighten on the page. He's not sure how to react to this. Obviously, Jay wasn't planning on giving him anything. He doubts the guy is aware there's a holiday coming up or what a holiday is. This is merely his way of expressing gratitude. "I... Thank you-" He looks up to meet Jay's gaze, locking onto his electric blue eyes. "Really, thank you." Jay averts his gaze back down to his sketchbook, not maintaining eye contact for too long. It might be Jacob's imagination, but it looks like there's the slightest hint of a blush coloring his cheeks. Jacob smiles and decides to put the sketch in his bookbag carefully. He doesn't know where he'll put it permanently, but he's definitely going to keep it. "I'll shut up now and leave you be~" He pushes himself up to his feet. "I need to make sure Sam isn't overworking himself. I'll see you around." Jay doesn't respond, but Jacob doesn't need him to. As he heads back toward the building, he glances over his shoulder one last time. Jay is still sitting there, sketchbook open, colored pencils in hand.

Honestly, he did not expect Jay to follow him here. This is the last place the mute giant should be. The auditorium. One of the largest rooms in the school, filled with rows of half-century old chairs. All facing a somewhat big stage. For Prismoria, it is big. Compared to anywhere else, it's nothing grand. A small group of middle schoolers and high schoolers are sat in a circle on the stage while two teachers are off to the side, deep in discussion. That's when the dwarf and the giant arrive. Normally, Jacob's entrance has some flair to it, swinging the doors open dramatically. Not this time. This time, he sheepishly creaks the door open and slips inside, unsure if Jay will follow him in. Unsure if he *wants* Jay to follow him in. Lo and behold, he does. The brunette looks up at Jay, staying right by the doors. "Are you sure you want to follow me?" Silence. "You can go home, this club really isn't your scene." The blond shakes his head no. There are no hints towards what he's thinking in his face, his body language. He might as well be a wall. A wall that for some reason favors Jacob's presence. "Okay, but they're going to ask if you want to—" He's cut off by the choir teacher, Mrs. Bailor calling out to them from the stage. "Jacob! Glad to see you made it~ Who's the friend? Come on, join us!" She gestures for the two to come down the aisle to join the group of students. "I uh..." He looks at the teached, to Jay, then back to the teacher. "He's not-" He looks back at Jay again. His eyes... It's faint, but it's there. That subtle change in his eyes; he's interested. Sure, there's no way Jay is going to engage with the club, but he's intrigued nonetheless. "Okay, uh..." He gestures for Jay to follow and heads down to the stage. "This is Jay. He's just here to spectate." "Jay who? I don't recognize him." Mrs. Bailor asks. Prismoria is the kind of town where everyone knows everyone. Especially in the school where even less of the population exists. Jay who is a great question. Does Jay even have a last name? As expected, Jay doesn't answer. Normally, Jacob's used to his silence, but now, when the entire room goes quiet waiting for a response, the silence feels heavy. Painful, even. "Isn't he that weird mute kid? The one who beat up Will?" A middle schoolers breaks the silence. Jay doesn't react. He doesn't have to. Just by standing there, towering and emotionless, he's intimidating. To any normal kid, that's terrifying. Someone claiming he beat up another kid is only adding fuel to the fire. Jacob winces. This is going to be a tough sell. "Now, now, I'm sure the situation was dealt with," the other teacher, Mrs. Harrison, says, stepping forward to diffuse things. "But Jacob, I'm sure you know we don't allow spectators. If he doesn't want to act, that's fine, he can be stage crew. Otherwise, he can't be here." "Mrs. Harrison, if you just—" Before Jacob has a chance to try to argue Jay's case for him, the blonde raises a hand — the other holding his precious sketchbook to his chest — and snaps his fingers. The lights above the stage dim and shift to a lovely marigold hue. The room falls silent. Still. Magic is still debated as fictional or real. A few people within the last few months have claimed to have gained some kind of power, but barely anyone has seen it in person to verify if it's real. How it works, why only a few people have it... The dazed state everyone in is brought to an end as quiet footsteps cross the laminated wooden floor. Jay sits on the stage floor, a few feet from the circle of students, his expression as unreadable as ever. Another minute of silence passes as everyone is wrapping their head around what just happened. Eventually, a small girl with brown pigtails raises her hand. "That guy should be stage crew." A few people murmur, a lot of the club seeming to agree. Then another hand goes up, since apparently that's now the way to break this strange tension and confusion. "Big guy, how did you do that?" As if a dam had broken, everyone starts asking questions rapid fire. How did he do it? Why? Can he make the light blue? Purple? How about a spot light? Can he, can he, can he- "Everyone!" Jacob steps up onto the stage, theatrically swinging his arms out to either side. "Quiet!" The questions hush down. "This is not the time and place for that. We are here to act. Mrs. Harrison, what's our musical this year?" "Thank you, Jacob." Mrs. Harrison says, grateful for the distraction. Truthfully, she has no idea how to handle what just happened, but marking Jay down for stage crew and moving on seems like the easiest option. Jacob sits on the floor between Jay and the other students as Mrs. Harrison clears her throat. "This year, we'll be performing Annie. And, uh…" She looks at Jay. "Could you put the lights back to normal?" Jay snaps his fingers again, and the lights go back to their regular brightness and color. Mrs. Bailor, who was holding a thick folder, starts handing out pamphlets of the script. "As always, today is a short meeting. Next week will be auditions for which parts you want. Today, we'll be going over how much each part has and what will be expected of you all."

Well, it is time to see if Jay is still going to follow him to rehearsal. Today, he absolutely has no reason to go, since he has no reason to audition. But lo and behold, Jay silently accompanies Jacob outside the auditorium. Outside the doors, a line of students snakes along the side of the lobby. They chatter nervously, fidgeting with scripts and lyric sheets, waiting their turn to audition. The distance between the doors and the stage muffles most of the performances; without the speakers, only faint snippets of singing and dialogue drift through. "You really don't have to wait with me. You can go home." The brunette points out, leaning back against the wall while he waits. He lazily crosses his arms as he studies the taller boy. It's not like he has anything better to do right now. The blond stands beside — well, in front of now that Jacob is back against the wall — Jacob, holding his sketchbook close to his chest like always. Even the way he stands is strange. Aside from the sketchbook, his posture mimics a soldier awaiting orders. He simply shakes his head in response to the comment. Jacob stares at him, trying to pick apart what exactly he's feeling. He's very good at maintaining his cold, lifeless exterior, but there are cracks in the bricks. The sketchbook for one, he is very possessive over it. It might as well be a part of him. But that much he already knows. Why doesn't Jay want to go home? Why would he rather stick around an event he has no business being within a mile radius of? Brick by brick, Jacob tries to visually examine each crack. The slight tension in his shoulders, his knuckles being a little too white from holding his sketchbook too tightly, the angle of his head... Most people struggle with piecing together or even seeing the tiny clue that everyone has, especially when it comes to someone like Jay. But, Jacob has an uncanny ability to pick up on the minute details. Betrayal. That's what flared up at the mention of home. "Are you not going home to avoid someone or something there?" The look in his eyes when he spares Jacob a glance is enough of an answer. "You are..." What could they have possibly done to make Jay rather go to a *musical* over interacting with them? He knows better than to press on that topic. So, instead, he shrugs it off. "Alright. Well, you won't be allowed in the doors when it's my turn. You'll have to wait outside. It should only be a few minutes." Jay nods. That's fine, since apparently this is better than going home. The brunette goes quiet again, now just mentally reciting the lines he has to perform, as well as the small snippet of song he has to memorize. He can't attempt to get the main role in Annie since he can't pass for a little girl. He's hoping to get one of the "villain" roles this time. The auditorium doors creak open, and a student steps out, clutching their script and looking relieved to be done. Jacob pushes off the wall. "Well, that's my cue." He spares Jay one last glance. "Only a few minutes, then I'll be back." With that, he disappears through the doors, leaving Jay alone with the line of students. Curious students. Curious students who have a little more confidence to approach Jay now that Jacob is gone. Yes, they should be focusing on their lines and scripts, and most of them are. But there are a few who think they already have it memorized enough and therefore have free time. "Jay, is it?" Jay shifts his gaze to the source of the voice. A boy who looks to be around the same age as Jacob with short, faded green hair blending into black roots. His style is similar to Jacob's — bold, confident, and eye-catching. In contrast to his choice in clothing, his approach is uncertain. "Right, you're not going to answer that... I'm a friend of Jacob's. He talks about you a lot. I'm Caspian." He holds out a hand for Jay to take. ... He withdraws his hand, smiling nervously. "Okay- This is a lot harder than Jacob makes it seem." Jay nods. It's definitely hard to communicate with him. He has no idea how the dwarf manages to translate his non-existent cues. Caspian snickers. "Good to know you're self aware~ Anyway, I just wanted to at least try to talk to you, say hi. If you really are joining the drama club, you shouldn't feel like an outsider." Jay blinks at him, unsure how to process the sentiment. Most people assume he's a threat or a freak — not worth their time. Jacob's friendliness is the exception, not the rule. "And that trick you did last week?” Caspian adds, eyes alight with curiosity. “That was sick! How did you do it?" Jay doesn't answer, of course. He wouldn't, even if he wanted to. Instead, a faint melody drifting from the auditorium draws his attention. Without a word, he takes a few steps toward the door. He can't see Jacob on the stage through the frosted glass windows on the doors, but he can hear him well enough. On some level, he knew Jacob wanted to be a singer, but he hasn't heard him actually sing before. Has he heard *anyone* sing before? He can't recall. It's beautiful. This rich, warm, silky melody. It's mesmerizing. Even the constant arguing in his head comes to a standstill to listen. "He's good, isn't he?" Caspian whispers, having followed him to the door. "Gets it from his dad. The guy was a popstar back in the day." Jay barely hears him. The music wraps around him, silencing the noise in his head for the first time in... forever. And then, too soon, it stops. Jacob exits a moment later, swinging the doors open with a confident grin on his face. That's quickly replaced with a slightly amused, but mostly confused look as he sees Caspian and Jay standing next to each other. Not six feet apart. "Hey, there~ Didn't expect to see you two together." Caspian shrugs casually. "If he's part of the club, I want to get to know him. Heads up, I think he really liked your singing~" "Really?" Jacob raises an eyebrow, shooting Jay a playful grin. "Guess I'll have to do it more often." He tilts his head toward the doors. "Break a leg in there, Cassy. Don't upstage me too much." Caspian rolls his eyes with a smirk. "As if I could compete with *the* Jacob Jackson. See you around." With that, Caspian heads into the auditorium. Jacob starts walking to the way out, assuming the other will follow him. "Alright, come on. Let's get out of here before someone else decides to make small talk with you." Jay, of course, follows without hesitation. The murmurs and lingering stares don't escape Jacob's notice, but he doesn't comment on them. It's nothing new — people have been fascinated with Jay ever since the incident with the lights. As they step out into the crisp evening air, Jacob speaks up. "Good news — I'm probably getting a part, as expected. Bad news — I was catching some *strong* hints from Mrs. Bailor. Her reluctance towards you translated into impatience towards me. It's good that I might not be the only one vouching for you now. How the hell did you manage to socialize?" Jay shrugs, just as confused as Jacob. "You said it." The two fall into a peaceful quiet as they walk along the sidewalk. About halfway to Jacob's home, Jay splits off. To where? Who knows.

How did he do this. How did he *do* this? How. The fuck. Did he do this?! Jay is coming over. Jacob somehow convinced him to visit his home with a cookie of all things. Why are sweets always such a potent bribe? This is how he used to convince Sam to play games with him. Legitimately, this exact text conversation has been had multiple times between the two of them: 🎮? 👎 ...🧁? 🚪 But how the heck did such a method work on Jay? He offered the guy a cookie the other day since he has never seen him with a lunch at lunch time. The look on his face when he tried it... You'd think he'd never eaten food in his entire life. So, obviously, Jacob went home and asked his mother to bake a batch of cookies and if the blonde could maybe visit for dinner after school one day. With some persuasion and deal-making, his mother agreed. And today is that day. Jacob is still baffled how he managed to pull this off. "Now, I know you won't say anything rude, but I still want to warn you, my mother is also small," The brunette says while the two walk down the sidewalk. "It's a genetic condition. I'm actually quite tall for people with the condition. My mother also likes to keep the tv on most of the time so she can listen to the news in the background. And—" He is rambling. He has no idea how Jay will react to being in a house, as strange as that statement is. It's just that he's only ever seen the blonde outside or in school. That's it. His family isn't exactly traditional. Single mother, gay son, and an estranged dad who left upon discovering his son is gay. A single income isn't a lot to live off of, so they make do with what they can. His train of thought and his rambling is cut off when Jay stops dead in his tracks and holds an arm out to stop Jacob from continuing forward. Jacob looks up, going quiet. Yeah, Jay does not care about what Jacob lives in. There is no reason to try to prepare him for anything, it won't bother him. With a slight smile, he nods. "Alright. Well, my house is that small one right there," he gestures to a house not too far away. With that, Jay resumes walking alongside Jacob. As they approach the house, Jacob steals a glance at Jay, trying to gauge any reaction. Nothing. No hesitation, no curiosity, no sign of discomfort. Just that same unreadable expression. This is *so* weird. He shouldn't be nervous about bringing a friend home, but Jay isn't just just any friend. He isn't just any *person*. Jay is Jay, and there is no better way to describe him. They reach the front steps, and Jacob awkwardly fidgets with the handle of the door. "Alright, uh… here we are," he says, as if Jay hadn't just watched him point out the house two seconds ago. He pushes the door open and steps inside, kicking his shoes off by the door. Now that they are at the door, Jay doesn't seem to want to enter. His eyes drift around the room, scanning. It's not judgmental, just… observant. Like he's mapping the space in his head. Identifying every bottleneck, every potential threat, every escape route. Then, he steps in. Jacob exhales, not realizing he had been holding his breath. "Shoes off by the door," he instructs mindlessly before glancing towards the kitchen. "Mom! I'm home~!" It's a pretty small house, but it has a warm and inviting atmosphere. Cozy. Now enhanced by the smell of freshly baked cookies in the air. As he lets his bookbag slide off his shoulder to plop down next to his shoes, his mother comes over to hug him and greet the guest. "Oh, welcome back, sunshine~" She kisses his cheek, then looks up at the giant in her tiny home with a warm smile. "Hello there, you must be Jay. Just slip your shoes off, and we can get you settled into the living room until dinner is ready." Jay is very hesitant, but that is the second time that command has been issued. So, he does slip off his shoes. He doesn't have socks. Jacob's brows furrow in befuddlement. "Do you... Own any socks?" The blonde shakes his head no. "Of course you don't-" Now he has the burning question of if this man owns underpants or not, but that is a way more inappropriate question. "Don't shoes hurt without socks? I thought that was how you get blisters." "It is," His mother interjects. "Young man, is there any reason you don't have any? If money is tight, I'd be happy to help out." Jay stares at her. Jacob tries his best to decipher the look on his face. The best he can get is a hint of confusion currently. "Do your parents have any?" Blank stare. His stomach starts to twist as the thought occurs to him. "Do you know what parents are?" He shakes his head. Jacob's heart plummets. Followed by a whirlwind of other questions. How does he have any clothes at all without money? He must've stolen it or something. Does he really not have a home? Is he really going to the forest after school, not some hidden house nobody knows about? How does he not even know what a parent *is*? *How long* has he been, presumably, an orphan? His mouth feels dry. Now it makes sense why the musical Annie seemed to resonate with him. "Alright, well... This feels like an interrogation over... socks- So, Mom?" He looks over at her. "I'm going to go introduce television to him. Take your time with dinner." She nods in agreement. That sounds like a good plan. "Oh! By the way, the cookies are done. Still nice and warm~ Just make sure to save room for dinner." Jay's eyes light up at the mention. A rare instance of a much more obvious reaction. "Got it! You can go chill on the couch down that hall. I'll get the snacks," Jacob tells the blonde before disappearing into the kitchen with his mother. The cookies are on a fancy plate, laid out in a nice display. "I don't mean to pry," His mother starts asking she starts to get some things out of the fridge. "But how much do you know about this boy? How old is he?" He pauses. "... I don't know. I don't think *he* knows." "I just... After Sam, I worry about you." "Mom," he looks back to her, dropping any act. "I'm okay. I know he seems a little off, but I think deep down, he has a good heart. Same with Sam; he's still a good kid. He's just... Not as cheerful anymore..." "That's the issue." She closes the fridge and sets the ingredients down on a counter. Then, she turns to look at Jacob. "I know you. You get joy out of making others happy. Does this boy make you happy?" "Yes. Sure, he doesn't talk, but he does have a sense of humor. And I'm getting good at reading him. He likes hanging around me for some reason, and I like having him around." "Okay... I trust your judgement. And I suggest picking something PG to watch, I have a feeling he hasn't seen much TV. Start him off easy." Jacob nods, returning to his normal self with a cheerful grin. "I was thinking of watching High School Musical~ He does like musicals after all." She chuckles softly. "Good choice~ Be prepared to pause halfway through." "No problem." He picks up the plate of cookies. "Thanks, mom. I love you," he adds before heading out to the living room to find Jay.

A knock at the door wakes him up. The blonde had been peacefully asleep before, but now the dim lighting of the nightlights scattered about his room illuminate the small figure in his doorway. Jacob. He sits up and stretches his arms out to wake himself up a bit more. "Hey." No, he doesn't bother asking what's wrong or anything. Obviously Jacob couldn't sleep. Ever since he got back from wherever he was taken off to, he has had trouble sleeping. If it were anyone else, he'd be panicking about his scar showing. But with Jacob, he doesn't care. The makeup that he uses everyday to hide it is only for everyone else's comfort. Jacob shuts the door behind himself. "Jay's still refusing to sleep at all. I don't know why." He stumbles towards the bed sleepily. "You won't mind, right?" This is a strangely familiar scene, only the roles have been reversed. It used to be Sam who showed up at Jacob's doorstep at ungodly hours for some safety and comfort. It used to be him who asked to sleep with Jacob because sleeping alone was terrifying. The screaming of his parents and the constant reminder of his sister's death left him unable to sleep through a full night for months. And now here Jacob is, wandering into his room at who knows what time, unable to sleep because of whatever happened to him when he "disappeared." And his *actual* boyfriend, Jay, still won't sleep either. "Of course." He flips the blanket up so Jacob can get into bed. "Big or little?" "Neither," he says a bit quieter as he lies down next to Sam and snuggles up to him like many times before. He nestles his head against the blonde's chest, his soft, fuzzy pyjama's — which, even his pyjama's are made to look like a fake, dark green suit — acting as his pillow. Without a word, Sam complies. Jacob stays quiet for a while, listening to Sam's steady heartbeat and soaking in his warmth. His gentle touch. "I swear, it won't be like this every night." "I'd be fine if it was," Sam reassures without hesitation, running his fingers through Jacob's messy hair. "You were there for me." That seems to satisfy him for now. A few more minutes go by before Jacob speaks up again. "You sure you're not gay?" The questions catches him off guard. He knows it doesn't even matter if Jacob notices his ears turning red in the dim light or not, just his physical reaction will be enough to tip him off. His hand going still for a split second, his shoulders tensing up. Heck, Jacob would notice if his heartbeat suddenly jumped up 1 more beat per minute. "You literally have a boyfriend! Wait, he *is* your boyfriend, right?" That earns a chuckle from Jacob. "I don't think we're at that stage yet. And I'm just saying, you still don't have a girl. Anyone would be lucky to be here~ Be it man or girl." "I- S-Shut up." He hates how hot his face is getting despite knowing the brunette is trying to get a reaction out of him. Just like he always has since childhood. "Either go to sleep, or leave." He pouts playfully. "It was an innocent question~ But alright, Mr. Serious." Now he nuzzles into Sam a bit more before finally closing his eyes to sleep.

Walking home has never felt so... Surreal. Foreign. How is his mother going to react? How is *he* going to react? Part of him wanted to postpone this. Another part is relieved Sam urged him to face his mom. All of him is glad Sam came along with him. The blonde holds his hand as they walk, as if that's going to stop Jacob from being taken away again. His grip is much tighter than normal. It doesn't matter that they look like a couple because of it, he is not letting go. Sam didn't cry when Jacob came back; at least, not where he could see. But it's clear in the little things just how much it hit him. He double-checks the locks now. A knife stays by his bed, even though it's hard to imagine Sam ever using it. Sam couldn't hurt a fly. It's always been in his nature to take care of others, but he's been extra persistent in the few days the brunette has been back for. It's clear he has questions for Jacob: Where were you? What happened? Why were you on the brink of freezing to death? Are you okay? But, he keeps those questions to himself. It is not his right to force answers out of Jacob. The door is always open of the brunette wants to talk, but he's not going to shove him through the doorway. Even if he desperately wants to. The wind whips and stings their skin. The layer of freshly fallen snow across the town is a painful reminder of the same cold that almost killed him. He used to love the snow. It used to make everything look so magical. But now... Now he sees it the way Jay sees it. A coating of false innocence. The wrath of mother nature that cares not for man. There is no magic, no warmth, in the white landscape. The only warmth is Sam's hand in his. Warm and soft, just like Sam himself. It's not long before the two reach their destination. It is quite a walk coming from Sam's house, but his mother deserves to know he's okay. When they get to the front steps, Jacob stops. Once they knock, there will be no going back. Sam pauses and looks down at him. "What are you thinking about?" He asks, his voice as gentle and soothing as always. It's an offer to listen to whatever is making him hesitate, not a demand. Jacob's vivid blue eyes stay locked on the front door, even as his vision starts to blur with tears. "I... W-What if it happens again? I don't want to get her hopes up-" She doesn't deserve the burden of his new life. What if never knowing is better? Then at least there's still a sliver of hope for her. He doesn't know what the future holds. Sure, he can manipulate time, but knowing one's future is like the second big no-no of time travel. The first being not to create a paradox. His mother shouldn't have to live with the fact that... Sam kneels down and pulls the smaller male into his arms, holding him tightly. His now even smaller frame feels so frail in the blonde's arms. "Jacob, she's worried sick. You still have a mother, don't throw away the time you can have with her." Jacob hugs Sam back and buries his head against him. It takes everything in him to not cry. Something he wouldn't be ashamed of before. But now... Now the thought of it puts him right back in that cage. "I know this is probably scary— Actually, scratch that. I have no idea how this feels, or how hard it may be. But I do know you are not alone." He nods quietly and gently pushes Sam back, bringing his gaze back to the front door. "Can you knock?" Sam smiles a little and nods, pushing himself back up to his feet. Jacob doesn't hear the knocking. Half the time, it doesn't even feel like he's here anymore. But the sight of the door opening brings him back down to reality. His mother notices Sam first, offering him a small smile. They must have bonded while he was gone. But when she sees Jacob, her eyes widen, and she nearly suffocates him in a hug. "Oh, Jacob! Darling!" She clings onto him like he might fade away without someone holding him together. And he just might've. At the sight of her, he lost all strength. He collapses into her hold and starts sobbing. After a second, she grabs Sam's hand and pulls him over to join the hug. This is the first time in a while that he feels home. It is a while before the three separate. Once they do, his mother urges the two to get settled in the living room while she whips up a quick snack. Jacob tries to protest, but she argues he's far too thin now. Assuming Jacob's mother will want to be with her son when she gets back, Sam takes the nice reading chair beside the couch while Jacob jumps onto the couch. The two do not speak while waiting, but it is not an awkward silence. Merely a comfortable quiet in the familiar room. It's not long before she comes back with some chopped fruit in a bowl, setting it on the coffee table for anyone to take from. "Now, what happened? Where were you?" "Angela," Sam interjects gently. "Give him time. Right now, he just needs us to be here." She nods in understanding, taking a seat next to the uncharacteristically quiet brunette. "Are you okay?" She can hold on all of the details, but she needs to at least make sure her baby is okay. Jacob nods, leaning against her. "I'm okay, Mom. 'They' never hurt *me*." The implications lingers, hanging heavy in the room. "I'm just happy to be home." He adds quietly. There is always the chance that he gets taken again. He could've been killed at any moment. These two do not deserve that grief. He has to find a way to stay alive.

Colorful lights twinkle around the house. Christmas day, yet there is nobody to celebrate it with. Simon is dead, Jacob is off the radar. And Jay... Jay doesn't like buildings, number one, and number two, nobody knows where on earth he would be. That's his entire list of personal connections around his age or in his family. The blonde sits on the worn down, old couch, his wings folded neatly against his back as he stares at the singular gift under the tree. It's for Jacob, though there's only a fifty-fifty chance he'll show up today or even this week. The gift itself looks hastily wrapped in red wrapping paper. Sam's never been good at wrapping gifts, and it shows in the uneven folds and excessive tape. Seven years ago, all he had before Jacob was a sad, Charlie Brown looking paper tree he made by hand. Now, he does have a store-bought tree that he bought a few years ago, but it's quite small. The leaves are a dull green, brittle with age. The green paint sheds with the faintest touch. It was a hand-me-down already when he bought it; made it more affordable. Hours tick by. Sam busies himself with paperwork for most of that time. That, and some household chores. His regular daily schedule. Christmas or not, work doesn't stop. At least it keeps him busy. Keeps him from obsessively watching the clock. Day turns to dusk, the light leaves the sky. He can only stay up waiting for so long. Tomorrow, he needs to head out early to get his paperwork in the mail. He taps the stack of paperwork on the coffee table, aligning them together nicely before setting them down to take out tomorrow. That's when the front door opens. The cold winter air spills into the house, blowing a few papers off the table in the entryway. As soon as he hears the the hinges of the door creak, Sam jumps up, his wings fluttering. He's barely able to keep himself from running to the door. The small brunette stands in the doorway with a small smile. He knew Sam was most likely counting down the minutes to midnight, waiting to see if he'd show up. "Hi~ Sorry for being so lat—" Sam pulls the other inside and into a warm hug, cutting off whatever they were going to say. "It doesn't matter. You're here now," he pulls back to do a quick inspection of Jacob's appearance. Decently heavy clothes — A pastel pink sweater, crimson pants, and his signature golden star earring —, a light dusting of snow on his shoulders and in his messy hair, but no signs of frostbite or anything. Nor any new injuries or areas of concern. "Let's just get you warmed up. Want some hot cocoa?" Jacob chuckles softly and shuts the front door. "Sure. Nice sweater~" Normally, Sam is in a suit 24/7, but Christmas is an exception. It's always charming to see him shed that layer of professionalism, that sacred first line of defense for him. His 'ugly' green Christmas sweater, decorated with clumsy rows of trees and snowflakes, somehow looked perfectly presentable on him. While Sam disappears into the kitchen to get some hot cocoa started, Jacob slips off his snow-crusted shoes and makes his way to the living room. Like always, in the center area are two couches facing each other, a coffee table between them. There is no TV, so it's set up to be more social. In the corner is the sad looking tree that Sam tried his darnedest to resurrect with lights and ornaments. Matching lights hang across the archways connecting the entryway, hallway, and kitchen to the living room. What catches Jacob's attention is the small red present under the tree. The singular present. There is nobody else Sam would have a gift for, it has to be for him. He doesn't have a gift for Sam. Shit. Well, Sam of all people will understand why. He tries to brush that thought away as he takes a seat on the couch. "I'm assuming you won't mind if I stay the night?" Sam returns to the living room with a steaming cup of hot cocoa, which he promptly offers to Jacob. "You basically live here. You don't have to ask. And it's far too cold to be sleeping outside." He sits next to the dwarf and spreads out one of his wings; an offer to cuddle if they want. Jacob, of course, takes the opportunity and snuggles close to Sam, holding the warm mug in his hands. The blond always knows exactly how to make others feel safe and comfortable. The fluffy, heavenly-soft wings contribute quite a lot. "I know, I know~" He sips the hot chocolate. "I just..." "No! If I'm not allowed to be a burden, neither are you." Jacob snorts. "Fair enough." He rests his head on Sam's chest, going quiet for a few minutes. It's nice to let the moment sit, to just be together. Sam lets the gentle silence hang as well, happy to have his best friend with him again. Once he's partially through his hot chocolate, Jacob sets the mug down on the coffee table and looks up at Sam. "Are you going to give me that present over there? I know you're dying to~" Sam's face lights up, though he tries not to be too obvious. "What do you mean? You don't know that's for you," he quips, earning a chuckle from the other. "Oh really?" In the blink of an eye, Jacob vanishes, leaving only a faint shimmer of red light behind before reappearing crouched down beside the tree, looking at the present. "Then why does it say 'To: Jacob Jackson'? And why do you always have to use full names? That's weird." He chuckles and lets his wing fall to a more natural resting position since Jacob left. "Hey, it's only first name, last! There's no middle name." The brunette picks up the present, feeling the weight of it. Very light. "I don't think you know my middle name." He tears the wrapping off from one of the many weakpoints in it. It's a cardboard box, which holds... A guitar strap. But not just any guitar strap. It has a custom design on it; red as the primary color with stars sprinkling the slight gradient to a pink-ish red. Simple, but it encapsulates him. Before the angel has a chance to say anything about the gift, Jacob springs towards him and knocks him down on the couch in a hug. "Why are you so damn sweet?" The tips of Sam's ears flush a red tinge, though he hugs Jacob back, of course. "Your guitar is in the guest room. I made sure it was compatible." Just like that, Jacob disappears again. Within a second, he's back, standing by the tree with the new strap attached to his old guitar. "You really are too nice, Sam." Sam sits back up and brushes himself off. "It's nothing." "No it's not! I'm sorry I don't have anything for you, I—" "You just have to survive. That's a gift in itself." "You deserve something real from... Anyone- Let me cook breakfast tomorrow!" Sam rolls his eyes, even though the offer does make him feel appreciated. "Fine. Only this once."

"Truth or dare~?" The youngest of the group, Sam, sighed. "Not again... Jacob—" "We all need a distraction," the brunette interrupted, brushing off the protest with a wave of his hand. After everything they've been through during the last few days, the other two could really use this. He can see it, in the way their shoulders are tense, the way they seem to be watching their surroundings... "If not that, then how about Never Have I Ever?" Sam's home has once again become their refuge. The familiar warmth and cozy atmosphere is always welcome. Sam was perched on the edge of one of the two worn couches, hunched over the coffee table as he scribbled on a stack of papers. His second line of defense - burying himself in his work. The first line of defense is his appearance, which never changes. Jacob, however, was curled up on Jay's lap, shamelessly stealing warmth from the taller boy. Jay doesn't seem to mind. His arms are wrapped loosely around Jacob, his head resting against the smaller boy's shoulder. His curly blonde hair tickles Jacob's neck a little, but he was used to the feeling. Jacob wasn't ready to give up on his game. "Here, never have I ever… fallen out of a tree," he says, throwing out an easy opener to kick things off. Neither of the other two should be down a point from this statement. For a moment, he thought neither of them would respond. But then Jay's arms slipped from around his waist, and the blonde silently raised his hand. Jacob's vivid blue eyes widened as he shifted to look up at him. "What?!" Before Jay has a chance to say or do anything, Sam also raises his free hand, smiling a little at Jacob's dramatic display of surprise. Jacob's jaw dropped. "You," he pointed an accusatory finger at Sam, "have impeccable balance! And you—" he turned his gaze back to Jay, "— practically live in the trees! How the hell are either of you falling from them?!" Sam, still filling out his paperwork, glances up at Jacob. "You know that for some reason, I preferred to read books when hanging from something. That didn't always end well~" "... How many times did you hit your head doing that?" The angel chuckles softly, the sound almost nonexistent. But his smile becomes more real. "I lost count." "And Jay?" Jacob pressed, returning his attention to his boyfriend. "What's your excuse?" Jay tilted his head, his electric blue eyes meeting Jacob's with calm indifference. "You do know that I preferred to sleep in the trees instead of being a... A sitting duck on the ground, right? Falling out was basically an... What do you call it- Alarm clock." That's strange enough to make Sam pause for a moment. "You used falling out of trees to wake up?" Jay nods, as if it were the most logical thing in the world. "That... Explains some things-" Sam mutters, shaking his head as he returns to his paperwork. Jacob leans back against Jay, gently pulling his arm around himself again. "Didn't know I was surrounded by a bunch-a tree-fallers~ That wasn't supposed to get either of you!" He chuckles and shakes his head before nuzzling Jay softly. "You can go next. Doesn't need to be complicated or anything, just something you haven't done that you think we have done." Jay gently nuzzles Jacob back while he ponders what to say. There's a lot he could say; he never had much of a childhood. Much of a life. "Never have I ever..." He starts. "That thing that appears once a year, a few buildings away from the school... It's loud. And bright. There's lines of people waiting for their turn, but it looks like they're in line for a death machine- Multiple death machines." The other two stay quiet while Jay speaks, trying to figure out what Jay could possibly be talking about. Sam's the first to figure it out, setting his pen down. "The fair?! Is that what you're trying to say?" "That! Yeah, that!" Jacob bursts out laughing. "Those aren't death machines! They're rides~ Like a roller coaster. Except Prisnoria is far too small to have a roller coaster, our rides aren't too grand." He takes a few moments to gather himself and stop laughing. "You've never been on one of the "death machines"~? Well, I have." He lifts a hand and puts a finger down. Then, he looks over at Sam. Sam shakes his head. "Not me." Jacob tilts his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. "I'm taking both of you to the fair next time it pops up." The other two try to complain immediately, but the dwarf doesn't let them. "Not-uh! I'm not listening! You're going. I don't care if I have to drag you there kicking and screaming~ Now, Sam! You're turn." Since clearly he's not going to be getting any significant amount of work done, he sits back against the couch, letting his wings splay out. "Never have I ever been in a musical." Jacob glares at Sam playfully while Jay silently raises his hand again. "C'mon, come up with something less targeted~" "Hey, you forced me into the game. Don't complain after wrapping me into this." "Fine," Jacob rolls his eyes. "Never have I ever..." He hums, debating whether he wants to overtly target one of them or not. "Purred like a cat~" A blush quickly rises to Jay's face. "I— You— Bu—" He buries his head against Jacob's shoulder, his hold on the smaller boy tightening. "Shut up." Sam tilts his head, smiling a little. "I'm sorry, but can you repeat that? He purred? Is that like, metaphoric or literal?" Jacob giggles and nods. "Literal~ And not once. It seems to be a regular occurrence." "I was raised by a cat!" Jay whines, muffled against Jacob's shoulder. "A cat that speaks English! That isn't the argument you think it is, Jay!" Sam fires back. "You know what?" Jay looks up, his face still rosy red. "Never have I ever... Uh... Jacob, give me something-" That makes Jacob snort and dissolve into another fit of laughter. "A swing and a miss!" "... Never have I ever swung something and missed? I have though." "You don't say." Sam chuckles. "I do say... I... I just did-" That one manages to get Sam. He starts laughing, the sound completely silent. The only sound in the house is the melodic sound of Jacob's infectious laughter. Jay can't help but smile despite being rather confused; it's impossible not to smile with Jacob in a fit. Once Jacob pulls himself back together again, he turns around in Jay's hold to lean up and kiss him on the cheek. "I love you so much." He looks back to Sam. "Now that neither of you are brooding and/or on edge, I won't make you partake in my games anymore. You can get back to work if you'd like~"