The Bad Boy's Secret

~Chapter twenty two~

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A daughter needs
her Dad to be the
standard against which
she will judge all men.

-Unknown
💫~💗~👫

Waking up on Saturday morning with the relief of no nightmares to assist in my doing so is the best feeling I've had in days. The sun's natural light seeps in through the open crack in my curtain and bathes itself over my pyjama clad body, warming me from the inside, out. I feel fresh, invigorated even and as if I can accomplish almost anything, which is exactly how I intend to spend the first day of my weekend off. I even go as far as deciding to make myself a healthy breakfast and do so by prodding down stairs and preparing various, exotic fruits.

"Morning." sounds a familiar voice from behind me, starling me half to death.

It belongs to Jack and I can't help but notice his ever tiring eyes as he makes his way over to the coffee machine, situated to my left.

"sleep well?" he questions, filling his mug up to the brink.

"Hmm, I did actually." I reply, attempting to disguise my surprise in my ability to preform such a simple task that is definitely considered normal to most people.

Still, Jack knows about my lack of sleeping lately, so hiding it from him is fruitless.

"You?" I ask, deciding to return the favour and appearing as if I somewhat care.

Which I do. Care, I mean.

"I did. Thanks for asking, Kid." he replies, taking a sip from his black coffee and wincing at its, no doubt, bitter taste.

I hate coffee with a burning passion and can only assume people put up with it as a means of getting that extra boost. Trust me, this past week when I failed to get my recommended eight hours, I was seriously contemplating forcing myself to drink a cup or two. In the end, I took one hesitant smell of the rich beans and gave up trying.

Vile, vile substance!

"That's the first time I've seen you eat properly since you arrived here." he remarks, pointing towards the half chopped apple on the counter top. "I was getting concerned." he adds, stealing a grape from the lot and sneaking one into his mouth.

I mummer incoherent words in response and settle for a forced smile in the end, unsure on how I'm supposed to reply. "Ah yes, I've had a distinct lack of appetite lately due to the fact that my Mother commuted suicide without so much as a single warning and I've been made to move miles away from my home and start afresh." Somehow, I think not.

"Is it something I should be concerned about?" he further investigates, attempting to appear somewhat nonchalant by taking a casual sip from his coffee.

I halt all chopping motions and stare him dead in the eye, keen to gauge his current expression on the matter.

My god, he's worried.

"No not at all. I've just been a little less inclined to eat lately, for obvious reasons." I ensure, grateful for his attempt at reaching out. "Your antidepressants. Is that something I should be concerned about?" I spill, unable to stop the words from falling out.

Jack immediately chokes on his drink, dribbling brown liquid down his crisp, white T-shirt and further smudging it when he attempts to undo the damage. I bite back an amused smirk and distract myself by cutting up my banana, patiently waiting for him to reply.