Suffocate

Jacob's deep breathing should've been enough to lull me to sleep, but my mind kept wandering back to work, and getting married, and my parents. I wanted to admit that I was terrified of what they'll say, that no, I can't marry Jacob. But for fuck's sake, I'm almost nineteen years old. There's not much that they can do. Carefully, I shifted my weight and rolled over to my side, where Jacob lay facing me. It was early in the morning, probably four or five, and I had only gotten a few hours of sleep. Jacob didn't normally stay overnight with me, and it was nice to have him here.

I brushed my fingers along his arm softly. He was so warm and soft, which had become almost irresistible to me. I watched his lips twitch into what looked like a smile, but he sighed sleepily and rolled onto his back. I hated to sleep, honestly. I liked to stay up late and do nothing, which was a habit that I developed when I still lived in Portland, after Peter broke up with me and my friends and I stopped speaking.

The nighttime was always so peaceful in Portland at this point in summer. It was the time where we spent so much time outside that our hair would change color from sun exposure.

Peter frowned, and I knew immediately that something was wrong. It hadn't been something I said, or done. It couldn't have been. I took his hand, gazing up at him (he was almost a whole head taller than me). "What's wrong?" I whispered.

"N-nothing," Peter mumbled. We continued to walk down the sidewalk, towards my neighborhood. The night had started off wonderfully, but I could feel him becoming tense.

I stopped, which made him jerk slightly. "Peter, you can tell me anything. If something's bothering you, pl--"

"Not right now, babe," he sighed. Peter looked so tired; his eyes were droopy and dark.

I chewed on my lip, but nodded my head and continued to walk. He squeezed my hand and by the time we had arrived at my house, his eyes were low and I knew for sure that something was wrong. "Peter," I cooed, reaching up to kiss him. He moved away, and my stomach twisted.

"Sarah, I think... that," he took a deep breath, "maybe we should see other people." The last part came out as a jumble and for a moment I wasn't completely sure of what he just said. I stared at him.

"W-what?"

Peter finally looked at me. "We need to see other people, Sarah. I love you, but I'm..." he trailed off, scuffing his shoes against the wood.

"Bored?" There was a bit of venom in my voice. "You're bored? Pete, I... this is stupid."

"We've had a really, really good time together," Peter's eyes flicked from side to side, "and I really do love you. I just don't think that this could last for thirty years. You're always telling me that you want to get married someday." He sighed. "I don't want to be with you if I'm not sure if I want to marry you."

"We're only seventeen. We don't need to worry about that," I protested. I took a handful of his shirt and held back tears. "I just want to be with you. I just --"

"I know, Sarah!" Peter sounded frantic. "But that's exactly what I'm saying - we're only seventeen. We can't be with each other forever."

"Yes we can," I mumbled. "There are definitely married couples who dated in high school." My stomach was churning now, and I felt almost like I was going to throw up.

"Sweetie, there's only a small percentage of high school couples that get married." Peter sighed. "Besides, I want to go to med school."

I huffed, and let go of his shirt. "So it's over."

Peter nodded. "Yes. Are you going to be ok?" He took my hands and wrapped his warm fingers around mine.

"I think so." Funny thing was, my heart was breaking to pieces right in front of him. It was taking everything I had to hold myself together. We were done. I looked at him, searching his eyes for some sort of comfort, but I didn't find anything. "Can I just... can I have one more kiss? Please?"

Peter gave a small smile, and pressed his lips to mine. It was long, drawing out for almost a whole minute, but it was simple. There was no movement. I wanted to kiss him again, and again, and again, but before I had a chance to he was already making his way back to the sidewalk.

I couldn't contain myself anymore, and burst into tears before I even opened the door.

Blinking, I realized that I'd been crying. Jacob was awake now, looking at me with concern. He wrapped his arm around me, kissing the side of my face. "What's wrong?"

I sniffled, and wiped the stray tears away. "I just, I've been having flashbacks recently."

"Oh," he whispered. I snuggled in close to him, tucking my head underneath his chin. Jacob slung his arm over my waist and I took a deep breath. "Did you sleep well, per chance?"

"No," I said. My voice was muffled by his chest. "Hardly at all."

He kissed my earlobe and pushed my hair out of my face. "Poor thing."

I played with my new engagement ring, trying to get used to the feeling. I didn't normally wear jewelry, with the exception of a cloth bracelet, so having a ring on such an awkward finger was, well... awkward. I sat up, and pulled myself over Jacob. "I don't think I want anyone to know about our engagement yet, if that's alright."

He raised an eyebrow, and threw his arms over his head. "There's really no way I can hide it from the other guys if I'm thinking about it on patrols," he said. "You know that."

"Just, don't think about it, then?" I folded my arm underneath my chin and looked at him. I didn't feel nearly as awkward around him naked as I had before. "Can you do that?"

"Well, I suppose." He smiled, wrinkling his nose at me. Jacob rubbed my arms gently with his large hands, and I let my head fall onto his chest. "You working tonight?"

"Nope," I mumbled.

"There's a bonfire at First Beach tonight. Do you want to go?" He stroked my hair gently. I loved when he did that.

I sighed, "I suppose. It's been a while since the last one."

Jacob laughed quietly. "Yeah, I guess it has."

There was a loud thud on the stairs, and I scrambled off of Jacob to pull some clothes on. The door may have been locked, but never meant anything. Jacob had moved almost as quickly as I did, and by the time that I turned around to see him he was opening my window. "Be careful!" I hissed, just as someone knocked on my door.

"Sarah! Get up!" The doorknob jiggled. Dad didn't sound happy.

Jacob ducked out the window with ease, as he'd done so many times before. I raced over to my bedroom door and pulled it open. "Yes?"

Dad stared at me, eyes narrowed. "Open your door," he demanded.

"Why?"

He shoved me out of the way, and pushed my door open. I landed with a grunt on the floor. "Pack your bags. I can't deal with you anymore." He crossed his arms as I stared at him with bewilderment.

"What?"

"You have absolutely no respect for me or your step-mother, and frankly it's getting on my last nerve. I don't care where you go, just leave."

"Dad," I whimpered. "Dad, are you fucking serious? You're joking, right?" I scrambled to my feet, and chewed on my lip.

"No." He didn't look at me. "I shouldn't have to tell you again."

I blocked him from leaving my bedroom. "Dad, come on. I don't have nearly enough money saved to get my own place right now, and --"

"Go stay with Jacob. I don't really care." He side stepped me, but I managed to block him again. "Get out of the way, Sarah."

"No, listen to me!" Dad looked at me, his eyes dark and narrow. "This is ridiculous. There has to be some other good explanation why you're kicking me out."

"Because, Sarah," he said, "you run away for three months, get knocked up, and sneak around. I won't have you in my house if you can't respect anything that I do for you. Now get out of the way."

"No!" I growled, bracing myself in the door frame. A loud clapping noise filled the room, and then my cheek began to burn. He'd hit me. I slumped to the side in shock. What the hell had gotten into him?