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This year needed to be over.
Sherry lifted her face upwards, letting the hot water of the shower hit her closed eyelids dead on. Her sides still ached, the bruise on the left side of her face still tender despite the days since the accident.
"Need some more time?" The words were murmured gently into the side of her neck, as if anything louder might spook her.
Jake shifted his arms, carefully ghosting over Sherry's sore side to rest against her stomach. He tucked his chin against her shoulder.
As much as she wanted to point out that she wasn’t some nervous animal that need to be coddled, it was a hard argument to make when she had insisted Jake follow her into the shower with the express purpose of getting coddled in the first place. Instead, she nodded. Jake's arms detangled from around her middle, a chaste kiss pressed into her neck as he pulled away. She already missed his presence, but his fingers were likely wrinkled from how long they had simply been standing there, the water trickling down their bodies.
Cold air rushed in as Jake parted the curtain and Sherry did her best to not visibly flinch away from it.
"Don't turn up the water too hot." Jake muttered as he exited, and she hummed. They both knew his advice would be ignored the moment the curtain shut behind him.
He hated it. She knew he did, not being able to help. It wasn't often she had bad days like this, and it was even less often she let anyone around to see them. Jake only gotten privy to how bad things were in the last year, since he moved in, and in that time he'd had the misfortune of seeing more than one especially bad day.
Sherry crossed her arms over her chest, hugging her shoulders as she listened to Jake move about in their tiny bathroom; grabbing a towel from the shelf above the toilet and cracking the door behind him as he left.
The increased heat was a welcome change even if it did mean the loss of Jake’s weight behind her. Sherry hummed, tilting her head up even further, already feeling her skin getting pink and irritated.
Sherry exhaled, willing the waver in her chest to leave with her outwards breath.
She’d never been in an accident before, never had to ride in an ambulance. Never had to spend the night in a hospital. And it sucked. Sucked even more that she did most of it alone.
She inhaled, exhaled again. Squeezing herself tight, she focused on the trickle of water racing down her chest instead of the strain deep breathing put on her rib cage.
When she had been alert enough to look at her phone, she had to call Claire the the shop, explain why she was so late coming back from lunch. Explain to Jake why she wouldn’t be coming back to the apartment that night.
That was almost the worst part. How worried everyone was.
She greeted her friends into her hospital room all with a smile and an ‘I’m fine’. She smiled wider when they didn’t believe her, and even wider when she followed their questions with, ‘Really, I am.’
Maybe that was mean. That she couldn’t be honest and say that she was scared shitless that she didn’t remember the accident. Just the moment before, looking out her driver side window and seeing a pick up with plates from a state far too down south to know how to drive on snow skidding through a stop light and thinking damn, there’s nothing I can do to avoid this before she woke up to flashing lights and pain all across her left side.
All her friends came to see her because they were worried and scared like she was. But she couldn’t let them see her cry. They didn’t need to worry even more.
It hadn’t stopped the worrying. Neither of the Redfields let her so much as look at the shop to make sure she stayed home and recovered the first few days, and even a week out Jake still found every excuse under the sun to be the one to drive. He’d taken to leaving his bike at work and driving the green house’s delivery vehicle home. Even if she did find a good reason to get behind the wheel, Jake was the only one with his aunt’s blessing to drive the company car. With her car totaled, it left her at Jake’s overprotective mercy.
Sherry shut off the water, feeling overwhelming panic bubble up in her chest again. Suddenly her arms weren’t enough, the heat too little to feel grounded.
She cursed through her teeth, stubbornly starting to chatter again as not okay started to build once more.
The house was too cold to abandon the sauna she made out of the bathroom without a towel so she forced herself to wrap up before stepping into the hall.
The sudden rush of cold shocked her body enough to ground itself for a moment, even if the desire to drop onto her bed still sopping wet was louder than she liked it to be. Sherry closed her eyes, forcing herself to focus on the chill in the air and the cold linoleum floor pressing against the balls of her feet.
Jake sighed as he peered around the corner.
“Sherry,” He muttered, voice disappointed but by no means surprised. An arm snaked around her waist, pulling her into a one armed hug.
“I’m fine.” Even as she said it, her traitorous teeth started to chatter again, her eyes already starting to water beside them.
“Sure.” Jake muttered. Another chaste kiss, this time against her cheek. “You look like a tomato.”
Sherry wriggled free of his grasp, not that he held her tight enough to warrant much of a fight. She felt him follow her into her bedroom, dropping onto the edge of her unmade bed as she parked in front of the dresser.
They were silent as she discarded the towel, pulling on fresh underwear before slipping on the same pajama pants she’d been wearing all day.
Jake hummed behind her.
“What?” Sherry managed.
“You’re a very cute tomato,” He said. “Sherry tomato.”
She couldn’t help the amused breath that rose out of her. “Shut up.” Sherry muttered, glancing over her shoulder to meet Jake’s gaze; just so that he knew she didn’t mean it.
She nearly jumped looking back at him. Jake lounged back causally, propped up on one hand. But his face…. It was distant. Like he was looking at her but lost in thought, his brow bent and worried.
“Jake, really.” She forced herself to smile, popping a hand onto her hip. He’d never looked at her like that, though she’d seen the expression on him plenty before.
His mom’s diagnosis, her sudden health decline. The fights with his father. Losing his mom… it had been a hard year for him. Maybe under other circumstances, letting a boyfriend move in so soon would have been out of the question. But she couldn’t just let him stay in that apartment alone.
She blinked, though she knew her red and puffy eyes weren’t helping sell the illusion. “I’m fine.”
Jake blinked and the expression was gone, replaced with something cheeky and smart. “Hm. You’re a shit Liar.”
Before she had a chance to fire back, he was off the bed, the sweatshirt she’d been wearing earlier folded over his arm. “Come on,” Jake ushered her out of the room, “Wallow on the couch with me.”
The living room was bright, only enhanced by the waist tall Christmas tree near the TV stand. Rainbow lights tinkled with the mix of handmade ornaments Jake had inherited from his mom and the blue and silver ones Sherry had bought for her first Christmas in her own place. The curtains were drawn, yet the room was bright, illuminated by the row of plant lights along the window.
Sherry smiled as she was led to the couch.
Jake had surprised her with them some time ago. Said the lights were getting updated at the greenhouse, that he forgot to move some of the plants out of his moms place before moving in. As if the big pathos from his mom’s hadn’t slowly been taking over the kitchen since Jake brought it over months ago. But she didn’t pester him about it too bad. The new plants growing along the window made the living room feel less like a cave. If she shut off the overhead lights, it almost felt like late summer, the bright white of the lights so close to the floor it was almost like dusk slipping though the partially drawn curtains. The sad little aloe she barely kept alive the last few years finally seemed happy, a bright green instead of the pale yellow it had been for so long.
The couch was messy as it tended to be, blankets tossed aside on either of the arm rests and a few too many used cups on the end table. She pushed some of the blanket pile aside enough to sit.
The kitchen, however, was messier then she’d left it.
Sherry frowned, only prompting Jake to stop and hastily cover his tracks.
"We said we weren't going to make anything." She said.
"For each other." Jake pointed out, slidding used dishware into the sink, "These are for Santa.”
It was only than she processed the warm scent of sugar in the air. She groaned, which only made the smile on Jake’s face grow brighter. He plucked the attachment out of the hand mixer. “Beater?"
As much as she wanted to be, it was hard to be mad at a man while he grinned ear to ear, like he had successfully pulled off some grand heist and offered her a literal handful of cookie dough.
"...Yeah." She conceded.
Sherry took one of the two beaters from Jake's hand as he sat beside her, pulling a blanket from the back of the couch as he did so and settling it on her shoulder. She fell into his side. Jake squeezed her shoulder with the hand not holding the beater.
"Feeling any better?" He asked.
She shrugged, picking off a glob of sugar cookie and sticking it in her mouth.
“Don’t know. Feeling crummy that I didn’t make you anything.” The cookie dough melted in her mouth. Jake’s body stayed steady beside her, his arm giving the needed weight and support the scalding water of the shower couldn’t give her. She let her hand trail to the hem of his shirt. "Have you decided what kind of tattoo you want from me yet?"
Jake hummed, thankfully letting her change the subject. "Live Laugh Love, right on the front of my neck."
She laughed. Better than the last time she asked: Tiger stripes across his face, or before that, a misspelled bit of Mandarin from the Learn Chinese section on the back of a fortune cookie wrapper.
"I'm starting to think you don't want a tattoo at all."
"No. I just had to think about it. Wait for Inspiration.”
"And inspiration struck when you delivered flowers to some wine grandma?"
Jake badly hid his grin by helping himself to another bit of cookie dough. Sherry mirrored the action.
She doubted she'd ever get him on the table; as a client, at least. Jake was always the first to point at new flash art on the wall or to comment on a new piece in her portfolio, but it hadn't escaped her that he was the only person in their social group without an ounce of ink on his body. Still, she sat up, reaching for a loose marker from the pile of junk on the coffee table.
"Take your shirt off."
He didn't even argue with her. Sherry tried to ignore the kicked part of herself as Jake sat up and pulled off his own sweat shirt. He wasn't the type to say flat out that he was worried about her, but he was the kind to usually put up a fight, even lightheartedly, to requests that even he wanted. Instead he sighed, "Where do you want me, Picasso?"
"On the floor, on your back."
Jake tensed but did as she asked. Sherry knelt on her knees beside him, uncapping her very technical, professional, bright blue crayola marker and placing a hand on his stomach.
"Don't flinch" she muttered through the cap held between her teeth. "You'll mess up my lines."
"Your hands are cold."
"You're fine."
Jake grumbled something too low for her to make out as she bent over him, letting the blanket still over her shoulders drape over him on the parts she wasn't currently working over.
"I think you'd look good with a chest piece." Sherry decided.
"Alright. How about a giant eagle?"
“With a big flag in the background?” She asked.
Jake flashed her a smile. "That's why you're the artist."
Her own smile found itself easy on her lips. The birds she was drawing were in fact more like pigeons. The fat little birds kept finding themselves on her doodle pages ever since she helped workshop a piece for a gal who raised them. The fat one she worked on now looked more like a pear, a flat, frog like smile on its cartoonish beak.
"And maybe it's holding two big guns in its talons." Jake added.
"Oh yeah," Sherry agreed, giving her current Pigeon big, bleak dot eyes.
By the time Jake had to get up to take the cookies out of the oven, his front was covered in blue scribbles. Some worthy of being actual works; Others just to make him laugh while he looked in the mirror later.
"Cookie break before you get back to work?" Jake didn't so much as wait for an answer before sitting back on the floor, presenting Sherry with a sugar cookie as he bit into his own. She accepted her offering.
As expected, it was good.
Jake didn't bake often. Usually it was just for holidays. She had a vague memory of his mom dropping off cookies at her apartment once and mentioning that Jake had helped her, but for the most part, it was a skill he kept close to home.
Sherry hummed loud, intentionally grabbing Jake's attention.
"I should keep you in the kitchen." She said.
Jake laughed through his mouthful, quickly covering it with the back of his hand. "Oh yeah?"
"Yeah. You missed your calling."
He raised his brow skeptically. "Baking?"
"Baking for me." Sherry knocked her shoulder into his, humming as she finished her mouthful. She paused, suddenly feeling reflective. She shrugged into him. "Taking care of me."
Jake shrugged back, maneuvering his body so that she laid more comfortably into him. "Anything for my supergirl." His lips pressed into her scalp, the kiss leaving before she could fully enjoy it.
They sat like that for a few minutes, enjoying the lights and each others company, the smell of vanilla hanging in the air.
"You know you're a sweetheart, right?" Sherry pressed closer, hugging Jake’s arm. Jake hummed, smiling smugly like he like he already knew. She took another bite of her cookie, still warm enough that it melted more than crumbled in her mouth.
“I should have you bake for me all the time.” Sherry giggled before continuing, shouldering Jake in the chest. “Make you my house husband and keep you in an apron.”
Jake went frigid beside her. He shook his head, then looked up to the ceiling, as if something up there caught his attention. "That's.... alright. Whatever." He cleared his throat. After a moment of silence. "Like I said. I baked these for Santa."
Sherry laughed, tucking herself further into his side. She gave Jake the mercy of not looking up to see the color rush to to face, instead giving him a moment to regain his cool. It wasn’t long before she was on top of him again, marker in hand, scribbling more unserious designs into his front. His chest was already mostly covered, his ribs framed. It was difficult working on his stomach, because despite Jake's insistence that he was not, he was clearly deeply ticklish, twitching this way and that. It left her lines jagged and hiccuppy, and if Jake were a real client she would have kindly asked him to relax or get off the table. But he wasn't, so instead she let her sweeping designs jitter as Jake struggled to still himself.
She made it to her third set of matching loops on his lower stomach before Jake finally got suspicious.
"What are you up to?" He laughed, propping himself up on his elbow to catch a glimpse of Sherry’s work, "You haven't been drawing dicks on me while I've been zoning out?"
"No." That was truthful, at the very least, but the lines and loops she was doing could most certainly feel like crude drawings, she supposed.
Jake placed his hand on his stomach, brow scrunching. "That's not..." He sat up further, peering at the intricate loops near the divots of his hips, the heart under his belly button. "That is not a god damn womb tattoo."
She pushed into his shoulder, forcing Jake down to the floor. "It's not done yet, don't look."
"Don't look!?" Jake pushed past her hand and back into a sit. "How do you know what that is?"
She prodded him with a finger. “Hello? How do you?”
Sherry shuffled out of the way of Jake's hand as it shot for the marker in hers. She tried her best to block his body with her folded leg, but unfortunately it was a lost cause against his lanky, spider like limbs. Sherry found herself pinned between the ground and Jake's body, one hand still trying to half-pry the marker from her hand.
"You can't be mad at me!" She laughed, pressing her still folded knees into the soft Jake's stomach. He grunted above her but gave no other sign of distress. He paused his mission to steal her marker— no doubt to draw something equally crude on her—long enough to meet her eye.
"Why's that?" Jake asked.
Sherry tilted her head up, bringing their lips together for just a moment. The move was enough to get Jake to pause, at least long enough for Sherry to pull herself up and wrap her free hand around his neck. She pressed in close again, tasting the warm sugar and vanilla on his lips. She tucked her head in, doing so in a way to make her eyes look big as she batted them.
"Because it looks dashing on you." She cooed.
Jake ripped the marker from her hand.
"Well then, it’ll look breathtaking on you."
Sherry yelled, failing in her attempt to wrestle free as Jake pulled her back in, lifting up her shirt with the marker still in his hand, pinning her dominant hand to the floor with the other.
"Jake stop! It's Christmas!" Sherry pleaded, but the cries lost their bite as she devolved into laughter.
“Stop moving!” Jake scolded, even as she palmed his cheek to push him away. “I can’t see what I’m doing!”
She wriggled and the marker traced up her stomach, ruining whatever shape Jake had been trying to draw on her. He cursed, using a leg to pin down her own.
“You’re a terrible canvas,” He muttered.
Jake pulled up on her pinned wrist so that she was pulled taught between it and her trapped legs.
She gasped, her bruised ribs screaming at the stretch.
Jake instantly lessened his grip slightly, but not enough for her to wriggle free. “Sorry,” He whispered, “Forgot.”
“Ow…” She bemoaned, more than was warranted. Jake paused his work to glance her over, as if a little stretch was enough to cause any damage. Once he was satisfied she was fine, Jake leaned close to her face, kissing her again. She closed her eyes, tasting the vanilla and sugar off him once more.
“You’re okay,” Jake muttered, squeezing her wrist reassuringly. He pressed the marker again into her stomach. “I’m almost done.”
Sherry groaned as she felt the tell-tale loops of a heart form under her navel.