Disclaimer: When everything stops hating me... ((Stupid internet…))
You wandered around his room, hour after hour, waiting for any sign of Jake stirring, checking his temperature, heartbeat, and breathing every now and then, to make sure he hasn't left me. Hours pass, the sunsets and the moon takes its place, shining hauntingly on Jakes face making him look both like an angel and a skull. He is breath-takingly beautiful, small shadows etched into the curves of his face, his eyes move beneath his eyelids, signaling that he is dreaming. You don't dare disturb him, because you know as soon as he wakes up, he will be in pain and that is the last thing you want.
It doesn't last long, though.
Jake moans and rolls onto his side with a frown on his face. You rush to his side and brush his black hair from his face. "Jake…" You whisper his name and he stirs again, cracking his eyes open, slightly. "D-Dirk…?" He moans, tiredly. "Hey. Don't move." You say, putting a hand on his chest as he tries to sit up. "W-What are you- ah!" He screams as his arm lands weird. You wince slightly at the scream but quickly silence him with a kiss while slowly moving his injured arm from its previous painful positions to a more comforting one. You release Jakes lips from the trap you set from them and he stares up at you with wide eyes. "I told you not to move. You should have listened." You smirk down at him. "D-do that again…?" He whispers, still staring up at you. You shake my head before pressing your lips to his forehead for a few seconds and pulling away. "Okay. Let me change your bandages…" You mutter, grabbing more bandages from his desk before grabbing more bandages from his desk before unwrapping his current bloody ones. "What happened?" He asks, looking down at the now uncovered wound. "Poison knife." You state as simply as saying 'the Earth is round.' He nods, knowingly, but you can tell he is still confused. "Don't worry about it. Everything is fine." You say, trying to make him stop worrying. You slowly wash the blood away and replace the bandages. "What're you doin' here?" He asks, sleepily. Does he ever stop asking questions? "Taking care of you." You say, plainly, looking at him. Our eyes connect and a warm feeling grows in the pit of your stomach, spreading through your whole body as his eyes search your uncovered ones. You feel naked without the dark cover of my shades that disappeared somehow between the hours he was asleep.
You didn't notice the two of us gradually growing closer until our lips were almost touching, our breaths mingling together. "I love you." You whisper, our lips just barely touching as you speak. He has just enough time to blink before you press my lips fully to his for the first time that he actually know its coming. He tastes like nature and adventure, making you want more. He wraps his functioning arm around my neck to pull me closer before moving his lips against yours. 'Where the hell did he learn this…?" You think to yourself as my head spins and you now don't only want more, you need more. Knowing this, you pull away, reluctantly, not wanting to hurt him or go too far. Somewhere, a clock chimes, signaling midnight. "Febuary 14th… Will you be my valentine?" You whisper to him, hopefully. "Of course." He whispers, back, pressing his lips to yours, once again. You melt against him, happily, ignoring that he is in pain and might still have poison in his system. All that exists now, is his lips against yours and the warmth from his body flowing into your limbs.
All that exists now, is love.
No, not them
Will you be my valentine?