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Jacob, in every platonic and queerplatonic sense, has always been enamored with Jaiden. She’s been there for them through everything. She’s been there through their worst days and their best — their worst years, even. She’s held their hand, literally and figuratively, and guided them through everything. Jaiden has a heart of gold, and Jacob would trade the world for her.
She’s their best friend, their partner, their universe, their everything. She braids their hair and tells them how much she loves them; she sings them to sleep, and laughs in such a sweet manner at her own (rare) voice cracks; she kisses their forehead and caresses them. Jaiden must know the lines and curves of Jacob’s tattoos better than they know them at this point.
Jacob’s the same with her.
They trace little shapes on her back as she naps; they give her a kiss on the cheek every time they can; they show her all of their ideas and projects before anyone else. She’s their go-to person for feedback (and everything else, really); she’s their one and only.
Jacob knows that Jaiden adores them. They know that she feels the same towards them. They know that she’d do all the same.
But Jaiden doesn’t see it in herself.
She doesn’t see the stars in her eyes when she looks into the mirror — she doesn’t know her soul is a mirror, reflecting back whatever the people around her give out. She doesn’t know that she is loved so closely, so dearly, so incredibly. She doesn’t know that she’s perfect.
And, so, as soon as Jacob got a text that she needed help, that she was having a tough moment and just needed company (or, as she phrased it, “someone to bother”, though she’s never a bother), they were at her door within seconds. Now, here they are; running their fingers through her hair and cupping her face in the palm of their free hand, wiping away her tears with their thumb.
Jaiden’s always been a quiet crier. Jacob’s not sure if it’s just the way she is, or if she’s dulled herself down to be more acceptable when she cries. To be less loud. To make sure she’s not ‘too much’. Even if she was, Jacob wouldn’t mind.
Jaiden’s bottom lip is quivering slightly, and Jacob can tell she’s trying to hold back more sobs. She’s holding them in the back of her throat, where no one can hear them. Where she doesn’t think they’ll bother anyone. They wouldn’t bother Jacob even if they were right in their ear.
“Jaiden,” they murmur, frowning, “What’s wrong? I’m here. I’m here now.”
She only shakes her head and sniffles. She doesn’t want to tell them; or, at least, she’s not ready to yet. And that’s okay. That’s always okay.
The hand that Jacob has in her hair drifts down, rubbing its fingers along the lines of her tattoos. Tracing them, just as she does theirs. “Do you want me to stay quiet, or would you rather I ramble?”
“Ramble,” she echoes, and it pains Jacob to hear the tension in her voice.
“Of course.”
There’s a pause, a moment where the only noise is the hum of the heater and Jaiden’s soft whimpers that she’s trying so hard to keep behind her lips. She’s scared. Jacob doesn’t know of what, and they’re not going to pry, either.
“I love you,” they begin.
“I love your face, and your smile, and your laugh — oh, Jaiden, I love your laugh. It’s such a nice sound. You should laugh more often. I love the way you talk to stray animals on the street, and the way you talk to fans you’ll never see again. It’s so sweet. You’re so kind.”
Jaiden’s smiling a little. Her eyes are trained on Jacob’s lips, not quite ready to make eye contact yet. That’s okay. That’s always okay.
“I love how you light up the lives of everyone who gets the pleasure of knowing you. I love the way you just light up a room when you walk in, and how you manage to find a soft spot on everyone. Including me.” Jacob grins, their thumb still rubbing little circles on her face. They hope it’s soothing.
“You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong. You never have to tell me what’s wrong, okay? But, if this is about what I know you’ve been worried about lately — people not liking you, I mean — oh, Jaiden…”
They’re only quiet for a moment.
“Do you ever think about the sun and the moon?”
Jaiden raises an eyebrow at Jacob. They laugh a little — it is sort of silly, they’ll admit. “The sun,” they continue, “Will never see its own beauty. It’ll see the other stars, the small ones, and it’ll think, ‘oh, those are beautiful. I wish I were like those.’, and it’ll never realize that it already is. The moon, though — the moon is illuminated by the sun’s light every night. The moon knows that the sun is gorgeous. The moon loves the sun for every second that the sun hates itself.”
Jaiden blinks. She’s smiling now, though some stray tears still slip down her cheeks. Jacob doesn’t mind, even as the tears land on their shirt. They never mind.
“Jaiden,” Jacob starts yet again, “you’re my sun. Y’know that?”
Suddenly, there’s a pair of arms wrapped around their upper back, dragging them down into a tight hug. Jaiden’s laughing (their favorite noise in the world), and she’s still crying, but they can only assume it’s happy tears this time.
“I love you, Jacob.”