Jake hadn't moved since last night. The only change since last evening was that at some point, he'd pulled on his boxer briefs, but he still sat with his back against a tree, his clothes in a pile beside him. He'd heard Sam moving between the trees, restless and waiting for him, but he'd ignored it and finally Sam had left. Jake hoped he'd gone
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But she wasn't stupid. Caroline pulled her phone from her pocket and dialed Jake, closing her eyes to listen for the obnoxious ringtone she'd set for herself and trying not to think of the last time she'd used this strategy to find something she'd lost.
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"Fuck," he growled and drew up his knees, resting his forehead against them as he wished for the phone to stop ringing.
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And then there he was, half naked in the cold morning, curled up on himself as she came to a stop in front of him. Sam hadn't lied, he looked like hell. "Jake..." She couldn't help that just his name had her choked up.
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His head shot up at the sound of her voice and his mouth opened to answer, but no words wanted to pass his lips and his hands gripped at his shins in frustration.
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Which left him with little else to respond than giving her a worried frown because she shouldn't be provoking Sam and risking herself like that.
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That quiet numbness that had kept him in one spot for hours was gone now, leaving behind nothing but frustration that made him want to scream. His breath quickened as he struggled to keep his temper, every muscle in his body tense and on edge as if he'd been saving up his unease for the past few hours and now he could explode at any moment.
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And despite everything, the feeling of her fingers behind his ears had his breath easing at least a little.
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He sighed and as much as he wanted to close his eyes and take advantage of the closeness, he forced himself to meet his eyes and hoped that at least she understood that he still loved her. Sam couldn't take that away.
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This wasn't fair. Sam had no right. None at all. This was his life and so many choices had been taken from him already and now he couldn't even comfort her.
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Like he could answer.
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Not that he could tell her. Not that he could lean forward and rest his head against her shoulder so she'd know that no matter what the mess, he did kind of want her there.
Was motioning talking? He tried, crooking his finger at her to move closer.
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