MIA

“Are you good now?” My fingers slid into his hair, softly threading through the strands as I tried to calm him down. His hand shifted, resting gently on my waist, and he pulled me closer, so close I could feel his steady breaths against my skin.

We stood for a minute now. Not that I was complaining, I just wanted to make sure he was alright and willing to talk it out.

“Yes,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, his lips brushing against my shoulder. My heart stuttered at the contact, but I forced myself to stay still, letting out a soft sigh.

After what felt like an eternity of silence, he finally spoke. “That’s my dad downstairs.”

I hummed softly, trying to keep my tone even. “I figured. You two look alike.”

This explained everything—why he hadn’t been answering my texts or calls. His dad must’ve come to see him… or drag him back to Korea.

Jackson finally loosened his hold, only to slide his hand down to mine and gently guide me toward his bed. He sat down first, pulling me with him. I moved to sit beside him, but he shook his head, his hands tugging me closer until I ended up on his lap.

“Uh… umm…” I stammered, my heart racing like I’d just run a marathon and my body didn’t know whether to melt or panic.

His lips curved into a faint smirk. “Are you okay like this, or should I move you?”

“Oh no!” I blurted out, shaking my head like an idiot. “I’m very good. Totally fine.” I adjusted myself awkwardly, trying to seem calm even though his touch was anything but calming.

He sighed, leaning his head against my shoulder. The warmth of his breath against my neck sent my heart into overdrive, and I stiffened slightly at the sudden closeness.

“Mia,” he murmured, his voice soft but teasing, He noticed. Of course, he noticed. “are you sure? You seem like you’re about to faint any second now.”

“Oh, yes,” I said, forcing out a nervous laugh. “Don’t mind my dumb heart. It’s just… uh… freaking out because this is the first time we’ve ever, you know, been in this position.” My cheeks burned the moment the words left my mouth, and I wanted to crawl into a hole.

Why did I say that? I was sure he thought I was ridiculous.

But instead, his lips quirked up. “My heart’s freaking out too.”

I blinked. “What?”

He lifted his head, meeting my eyes, and I froze under his gaze. His cheeks had the faintest pink tint, but his voice was steady. “Feel it.”

He took my hand and placed it over his chest, pressing it lightly against him.

His heart was racing—just like mine.

“It’s beating like crazy,” he said with a soft chuckle, his nerves peeking through.

I stared at him, my hand still against his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heartbeat beneath my palm.

"You feel it right?"

I nodded, my hand shaking slightly with every breathe I took. " I do,"

“You make it race like that,” Jackson murmured, his lips tugging into a small, shy smile. “It always races when you’re around me, by the way.”

My heart stuttered, and I blinked at him, struggling to believe what he’d just said. “It does?”

He nodded, his gaze soft and a little vulnerable. “Yeah.”

“Like… all the time?” My voice barely made it out, but I noticed something—his heartbeat, which I could still feel under my hand, seemed to pick up even more, thundering in a way that made my chest feel tight.

Jackson swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing, and then nodded again. “It sounds crazy, I know. Especially since we just started dating. But it’s the truth.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, but the thought pleased me. A smile tugged at my lips as warmth spread through me. “Well, at least now I know mine isn’t broken,” I teased, trying to ease the tension even though my cheeks were practically burning.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating beneath my palm, sending a shiver up my spine. “You’re cute when you’re flustered, you know that?”

“Stop,” I mumbled, trying to look anywhere but at him.

But his hand caught my chin gently, tilting my face back to his. “I’m serious,” he said, his voice softer now, his thumb brushing against my jaw.

My skin burned under his touch, and for a moment, I forgot how to breathe. I leaned forward impulsively and gave his nose a quick, featherlight peck before pulling back, unsure of what came over me.

Jackson blinked, surprised, but then his expression softened. He leaned in and kissed me back—just as light, just as quick.

My heart was pounding so hard I was sure it might give out. I could die happy right now and have zero regrets.

But then the memory of why I’d come here hit me, and before I could stop myself, the words spilled out. “You didn’t reply to my messages.” My fingers brushed his cheek, and I tried to keep my voice steady. “Why?”

His expression shifted immediately, guilt flickering in his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Mia,” he said, his voice quiet but earnest. “I didn’t mean to ghost you, especially not after yesterday. It’s just… my dad showed up out of nowhere, and it completely threw me off. After I texted you earlier, my phone died. Then he came over and started talking with my mom. It’s been a mess.”

I nodded slowly, his explanation sinking in. “It’s okay,” I said softly, giving him a small smile. “I get it.”

“No, really, I should’ve at least found a way to call—”

“Jackson,” I cut him off, shaking my head with a small laugh. “It’s okay. I’m not mad.”

“You sure?” he asked, his brows furrowed like he didn’t quite believe me.

“Yeah.” I let out a breath, my thumb brushing along his cheek. “I wasn’t even mad in the first place. Just… worried.”

His face fell, guilt taking over completely. “I’m sorry,” he said again, almost whispering.

“Okay, that’s enough.” I cupped his cheeks with both hands, looking him square in the eye. “If you apologize one more time, I’m leaving.”

The second the words left my mouth, I felt his grip on my waist tighten. His eyes narrowed slightly, and I couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction.

“Fine, I’m not going anywhere. Happy now?”

“Big time,” he said, a grin breaking across his face that made my heart melt all over again.

"So, is that the only reason why you came to see me?" Jackson tilted his head, his smile still there.

"Well..." I said. "In a way but don't worry about it." I couldn’t ruin this perfect moment by talking about Racheal. No way.

"Come on," he dragged his lap up making as raise a little hight and I chuckle, "Tell me, love."

"Well..." I started, trying to think of a casual way to explain it without sounding stupid, but before I could come up with anything remotely clever, the loudest, most embarrassing sound filled his room.

My stomach growled.

This can't be happening. My eyes shot up in horror as Jackson’s eyes widened in surprise before his lips pressed together like he was trying not to laugh.

"I–uh—" My words tangled in my throat, and I buried my face in my hands. "Oh my god. I want to die."

"Hey, don’t think that." He gently pried my hands away from my face, but I stubbornly squeezed my eyes shut. I couldn’t deal with the humiliation. Not right now.

Then, of course, my stomach betrayed me again with another growl.

I wanted the ground to swallow me whole.

"Mia—" he started, his tone gentle but teasing.

“I don’t want to hear it!” I blurted, cutting him off before he could say something like it’s normal or don’t worry about it. Because it wasn’t normal—at least not in this situation.

Before I could think, I pushed myself off him and got to my feet. “I’m just gonna—”

But I didn’t even make it two steps before I felt his hands wrap around my waist. The next thing I knew, I was back on the bed, and Jackson was on top of me, pinning me down effortlessly.

“Why are you running away, Mia?” His voice was low, teasing, but the weight of his body over mine made my heart stop.

“Because…” I stammered, covering my face again with both hands. “It’s so humiliating!” Next time I'm eating before leaving home because this can't occur again.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through me. “Humiliating? Come on, love. It’s just a growl. It means I need to feed my girl, that’s all.”

I peeked at him through my fingers, mortified but also... oddly comforted. His face was packed with amusement, his earlier sadness completely gone.

"You're laughing at me." I accused, my voice muffled by my hands,

"I'm not." He said, though the grin on his face said otherwise. "Okay, maybe a little. But only because you're so adorable when flustered,"

I groaned, turning my head way. "This is the worst."

"No, this is the best." His hand gently removed tugged mine away from my face, and I finally looked up at him. His eyes had this glow now, warm and full of mischief, and it made my chest tighten.

"Maybe I should go," I mumbled, trying to push him off. "Your dad probably wants to see you. I came at a bad timing anyways–"

"No." He interrupted, leaning down until his face was just inches from mine.

"You came at the perfect time."

My breathe hitched, and before I could respond, his lips brushed against mine–soft, quick, nut enough to make my heart leap into my throat.

"Don’t think otherwise, okay?" He murmured, his voice low and warm against my skin.

I nodded, not knowing what else to say.

"Good." He said with a small smile, sitting up. He helped me sit too, but when I tried to stand, he stopped me.

"Stay here," he said, his hand lingering on my arm. "Relax. I'll grab something for you to eat."

I opened my mouth to argue, but he cut me off with a shake of his head.

"And if you're thinking about saying you should leave," he added, a smirk creeping onto his face, "then I won't hear it. But if you want to thank me..."

His smirk widened as he leaned closer, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "A kiss would work just fine."

Speechless. Completely and utterly speechless. That’s what I became whenever this boy in front of me said things like this. I was pretty sure my mouth was hanging open, and of course, Jackson noticed, his chuckle pulling me back to reality.

“So cute,” he said with that lazy smile that made my heart do backflips.

But then his gaze shifted to the door, his smile fading into a frown. “I’ll be back, okay? Don’t go anywhere. My dad’s probably going to raise his voice at me for ‘disrespecting’ him.” He added air quotes, his tone laced with irritation.

My chest tightened. “Guess I won’t be on his good side either, huh? Since I’m technically the reason…” The thought of his dad asking me to leave the house sent a fresh wave of embarrassment through me.

Jackson’s expression softened, and he stepped closer, his hand brushing mine. “Don’t think too much about it. I don’t care what he thinks. He lost the right to an opinion when he left my mom for someone else.”

“Oh.” The word slipped out before I could stop it. That explained a lot.

He sighed, the weight of it heavy. “Yeah. But like I said, don’t stress. I’m fine.”

Fine? He was anything but fine, and we both knew it.

“Okay,” he said, a spark of mischief returning to his eyes as he backed toward the door. “Now, let me go prepare something for my girl.”

The wink he threw my way made my cheeks burn, and I couldn’t help but smile. But as he opened the door to leave, something tugged at me, and before I could stop myself, I called out, “Jackson?”

He paused, turning back with that stupid, gorgeous grin. “Yes, love?”

I felt my ears heat up at the way he said it so easily, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Will you be okay going downstairs?” My voice was quieter than I intended.

His gaze softened, his hand still on the doorknob. “Yes.”

“Okay then.” I nodded, biting my lip, still feeling like I should say more.

He tilted his head, studying me like he could see right through me. “You wanted to say something else, didn’t you?” His tone was teasing, but there was a gentleness to it too.

How did he always know?

"Just wanted you to know that I'm not going anywhere." I swallowed hard, my heart pounding as I finally whispered, “And I love you.”

He knew that I loved him but I felt like he needed to hear it before meeting his Dad.

He froze, his eyes widening for a second before a slow, warm smile spread across his face. “Love you more.”

Before I could respond, he stepped out, closing the door behind him.

I stayed where I was, sinking back onto his bed, my thoughts spinning. So many emotions hit me all at once—embarrassment, worry, hope—but one thing was clear.

Even though part of me wanted to leave to save us both the awkwardness, I knew I couldn’t.

Jackson needed me right now, maybe more than ever. And I wasn’t going anywhere.

I stayed there, sprawled across his bed, staring at the ceiling, my stomach deciding to behave now that Jackson wasn’t around to witness its betrayal. I wasn’t even hungry anymore, not really. My body just wanted to embarrass me, I was sure of it.

With a sigh, I fished my phone out of my jean pocket. It’d been a while since I’d left home, and if I didn’t text Mom soon, she’d start blowing up my phone with calls and worrying herself sick.

Me: Hey, Mom. I’m at Jackson’s house. We’re just hanging out. I’ll be home soon.

After hitting send, I placed the phone beside me on the bed and stared at the blank ceiling again, trying not to think too hard about… well, everything. But my gaze eventually wandered around his room, and I couldn’t ignore how empty it felt.

His closet door was slightly ajar, revealing barely a handful of clothes hanging inside. The shelves were almost bare except for a few books and what looked like an old baseball trophy. Even his walls were plain, no posters or decorations like you’d expect in a teenage boy’s room.

It hit me all over again. He was leaving.

This could even be the last day with him and I wouldn't know that.

No, I won’t overthink it. If it were the last day, he would tell me—but he hasn’t. I just need to calm down and appreciate the time we’re sharing.

I should be happy—grateful even. I’d gotten to kiss him, share moments I never thought I’d have, and hear him say he loved me.

That should’ve been enough.

But it wasn’t.

I shook the thoughts away and sat up when the sound of a car engine reached my ears. Curious, I slid off the bed and padded over to the window. Pushing the curtain aside, I peered out to see Jackson’s dad sitting in the driver’s seat of a sleek black car. His mom stood by the passenger door, holding it open like they were mid-conversation.

My brows furrowed as I watched. Why was she with him? Were they trying to talk things out? Maybe they thought it would be better to have a discussion away from the house, without Jackson and me overhearing.

Not that I’d have understood much. They always reverted to their native tongue when things got serious.

A sudden pop from my phone made me jump, and I quickly spun around, my heart racing until I saw it was just a text from Jackson.

Jackson: Give me ten minutes before you come down. Parents just left.

I stared at the message, my lips quirking into a small smile. At least they were gone now. That meant no awkward tension or uncomfortable confrontations—not tonight, at least.

I set my phone down and flopped back onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling as a mix of emotions washed over me. Ten minutes. I could handle that. Right?

Ten minutes felt like hours. Each second dragged painfully, and I nearly fell asleep in the unbearable quiet of his room. When the time finally came, I practically bolted out the door, desperate for some noise, some movement, anything.

As I descended the stairs, a delicious smell hit me, pulling a small smile to my face.

“Jackson, what are you making—” I stopped mid-sentence as my eyes caught the living room.

It wasn’t a living room anymore.

Blankets were spread across the floor, layered with soft pillows that looked impossibly inviting. Candles—tiny, flickering lights—were scattered around, their warm glow reflecting off the walls and casting a cozy, almost magical feel to the space. The sky outside had dimmed, and the soft blue twilight peeking through the windows only added to the perfection.

It was breathtaking.

“Do you like it?” Jackson’s voice came from the kitchen.

I turned to see him leaning against the doorway, a small towel slung over his shoulder, his expression nervous yet hopeful.

“I’m making a lot of snacks, so I hope your stomach will take everything,” he added, attempting a lighthearted tone.

But I wasn’t listening to his words anymore. Something about the effort he put into this, the thoughtfulness, hit me all at once, and before I could stop myself, I felt tears pricking my eyes.

“Hey, hey.” Jackson noticed instantly and hurried to me, his hands cupping my face as his thumbs stroked my cheeks. His touch was so gentle, so careful, and it only made the tears harder to hold back. “What’s wrong? Are the candles not to your liking? Don’t worry, they’re fake, so they won’t—”

“Can’t you stay here?” The words tumbled out, shaky and raw, and I felt the first tear slip down my cheek. “Can’t you just…not leave?”

I thought maybe I might be strong enough.

But seeing all this.

I was very far from that word.

His expression softened, the tension in his shoulders easing as he pulled me into his arms. I didn’t hesitate, burying my face against his chest, clutching him tightly like he’d disappear if I let go.

“Oh, Mia.” His voice was thick, heavy with emotion. He didn’t say anything else for a moment, just held me close, his hand running through my hair as I tried to swallow back more tears.

“I wish I could stay,” he finally whispered, his breath warm against my temple. “I wish I could leave everything behind and stay here with you. I really do.”

But he can't. I have to accept it.

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