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So, it was one of those days where Jake was in charge. And Jake loved it, he wasn't going to deny it. He often enjoyed the days where he would relax on the couch with a cigarette between his fingers while he watched wrestling on television. He was having a good time.
However, this was not one of those days. He had a big break with Marc. He was gruff and kept him stressed most of the time, he could even feel Marc stressed too, it made him feel uncomfortable.
"Why don't we go get some ice cream and leave it to me?"
Steven kindly suggested.
"Gods, I'm dying for vanilla ice cream. The one with the little chocolate chips"
Jake winced; not because he really disliked that ice cream, but because he still had the horrible headache that the switch had left him with and maybe it wouldn't be good to go out and interact with the outside world.
I guess going to the store doesn't cost me anything.
And no, it really didn't, at least not entirely. The headache persisted, but he had managed to focus his mind on something other than the stress and the horrible feeling of restlessness that coursed through him.
"Okay, Jake. Just get that ice cream and I'll take care of it."
Steven insists, calming the Latino's silent anxiety.
-Okay, easy, claro que yes.
And damn it, he tried to stay focused the whole time; Get the ice cream and go to hell. But hell seemed to be in his very head.
With the ice cream in his hand, he let out a sigh, trying to move away to give control to Steven. More seemed to be stuck in that place, more alive than ever.
Jake shivered holding the ice cream in his left hand and trying with all his might not to crush it as he clenched his fists in frustration.
Anyone who saw him could tell that he was lost (he was, in his own head) and that only caused more and more problems for him. Also, the noise had become overwhelming too much. Only disturbing more and more.
"JAKE!"
Steven called out to him making him aware of his reality, when the hell had they gotten to their building?
Jake grunted, looking at the melted cream on his visibly affected hand.
-I'm sorry Steven, I know how much you wanted-- Damn.
He snorted, frustrated with himself for what a terrible day they had. Damn, I should have bought an ice cream sundae instead of an ice cream cone.
He sat up in bed after throwing the melted ice cream in the trash somewhat sad that he hadn't been able to fulfill Steven's wish.
"Jake, it's okay, it wasn't your fault"
Steven tried to encourage him, but Jake's thoughts seemed to be stronger; self-destructive and overwhelming.
Jake sighed wearily, anguish pressing into his stomach. He carefully picked up the rubick cube that Steven had lost on his bedside table and began moving it around, relaxing his mind and focusing on something else.
When he blinked again, he found himself in the living room with Marc hugging his waist.
Steven opened his eyes, stretching out his body and laying the perfectly assembled rubick cube on the small table next to him.
Now he would go for that ice cream.