Tangled Love

I stand in the doorway, glancing around hesitantly. A daunting feeling washes over me as I try to imagine living somewhere else beside from the place I've called home for the past sixteen years. Change.

Change is scary, difficult to adjust to.

The last major change in my life was the death of my father which lead to meeting Trevor. That change ruined my whole life. That change is the cause of my night terrors, my anxiety and my fear of people. I feel my heart rate increase inside my chest as I continue to study the inside of Jake's house.

He doesn't sense my hesitation and walks straight in, placing my bag down before turning towards me. When he notices the expression on my face, he frowns. I decide to try and explain because I know I must look terrified right now.

"I'm not sure this is going to work out. It's too much to ask of you. Look at this place," I murmur, glancing around at the tall ceilings and beautiful decor.

It's all so. . . intimidating.

Jake doesn't respond and takes a step towards me, taking hold of my hand. Warmth instantly heats it up, travelling up my arm.

"You don't need to look so scared," He says quietly, his eyes flickering between both of mine. When I look into them, I feel the panic inside of my chest begin to melt away. Jake clears his throat and continues —

about you Emily and this is the safest place for you

away at his words. I've never heard anything say those specific words to me for years. Someone cares about me. For someone who's felt

to thank for that. He appears startled at first, his body rigid before it softens ever so

you . . . for everything." I murmur quietly against his chest. I can hear the thumping of his heart under his shirt. Moments

throat. My

around me

hear him let out

going to stand there all day or follow me up Muffin?" He asks me, turning around to give me a playful raised eyebrow. The sparkle has returned in his

lets out a low chuckle, his

through

Even though I can't see his face, I can sense the smirk behind his words. I roll my eyes and decide to drop the topic because I'll never win with someone

hung on the wall and a computer desk. The left side of the room has a punching bag hung from the ceiling looking battered and bruised. A pile of weights are stacked neatly beside

scan the rest of the room which is surprisingly tidy for a eighteen year old possible

is my room. You're welcome to come and spend time with me in here." Jake winks in my direction. How does he manage

I