I Missed You {Cleo}

[JACOB HARLOW]

How long had be been gone for now? A year? A year seemed right. How much could things change in a year? Judging by what he had seen of New York this past week, not much actually. He managed to scrape through and find a little apartment back at Jacob's. Oh, the irony. Jacob living at Jacob's Apartment Complex. Either way, with nothing more than a mattress in the corner, it was home. It was odd having to start completely over. But he couldn't very well come back to New York, get his things and go back to California. He hadn't even actually realized he'd been there so long. His kitchen was stocked with cup-a-noodles and plastic forks. Not the greatest, but he started like this once before. He could do it again. However, that was the least of his concerns.

He managed to walk down the street where Gingey's was. His favorite bakery--honestly the only bakery in his eyes. And of course, they had those brilliant cookie-dough brownies. He took a seat inside of the cool air conditioning, and pulled the bag of Gummy Worms out of his pocket, carefully weaving ontop of the brownies. Tossing the empty bag away, he stood up witht he box of brownies and carefully carried them down the street.

What was he going to say? What was he going to do? Approaching Barrie University, he took a deep breath and made his way in to the front office. He couldn't go barging up the dorms, but he had to be sure. The woman at the front desk remembered him, and remembered the girl he was always with, easily passing him the room number. Jaocb let his memory lead him to Cleo's dorm, and he drew in a deep breath. "Hi, Cleo. How are you?" He whispered to himself, and shook his head. "Hey, just dropping in." No, that wouldn't do either. "Look, I'm sorry about bailing on you. But I had some busines to take care of." No that wasn't right either.

Before he could really think of it, he felt that strange light-headed feel when Figaro was present in his mind. "What are you doing?" He hissed quietly, watching his arm stretch out to knock on the door, before it fell back to his side, and he was firmly rooted back on the ground. Figaro gone, leaving a quake of amused laughter behind him. Jacob stared in horror at the door he had just knocked on, not even realizing what he would say. Maybe if Adrian or Scott opened the door, he'd be able to buy himself a few seconds.

If only, if only.

Outfit!

[CLEO EVERETT]

Ever since fish Cleo had woken up, Cleo seemed to be swimming nonstop. It all made her quite tired. It wouldn’t be so bad if she could swim in the tanks at the Aquarium more often. That night had been absolutely fantastic. It had led to her wondering what it would be like to be a mermaid and now she was calling the Aquarium every day, asking if they had any job openings. Maybe she’d start as a custodian and work her way up to mermaid. That would be marvelous!

Still, Cleo was tired and falling behind on her schoolwork and she hadn’t spoken to her mother in a week. A week was a long time in Cleo time, especially if it was her mother. (It was only like that recently. Imagine if it had been like that during her seven year cold shoulder). But all she wanted to do was nap. She wanted to stay curled up in bed for hours, snuggled up in her blankets, her ocean noises CD playing quietly in the background. It was perfect.

Or it would have been perfect if there wasn’t somebody knocking on the door. She groaned and rolled over, sleepy and confused and wondering how something like a simple knock on the door could’ve woken her. Cleo waited for Scottie to answer it or any other roomie but it seemed she was home alone. Any other time, she would’ve ignored it. This time, she couldn’t. Her goldfish was splashing around in her fishbowl, being rude and loud.

To anybody else, the fishbowl Cleo bought would look empty. To Cleo, there was in fact a goldfish swimming around. She seemed to like it better than the air, anyway. It took several minutes for Cleo to get out of bed and the goldfish was giving off very irritated vibes. Cleo’s glare was short-lived when the goldfish splashed water at her. Cleo coughed and blinked and scowled, wringing the water out of her now damp hair. Fabulous. She grabbed one of her blankets and pulled it around her shoulders before going to answer the door.

As she opened it, she muttered a rather rude, “what?” The interrupter of her nap was tall and she looked up slowly, first noticing his shoes and then the box in his hands. And how could she forget that face? Those eyes and cheekbones and the hair? Sure, eyes could easily be unforgettable but these would always be familiar to her. Cleo blinked a few times and finally came to the conclusion that she was still sleeping. This was obviously a dream. Her tired expression turned to a confused frown and she looked down, pinching herself very hard on the wrist.

When that didn’t work, she stepped just an inch closer and poked him in the chest just as hardly as she’d pinched herself if not more so. Because there was no way her Jaybird could be back. Not at all. He’d up and disappeared and she’d finally gotten over it and told herself he was never coming back. No way could he come back now. Not when she was waking up from a nap, still in her pajamas with messy wet hair. No way. He just looked so perfect. It wasn’t fair. “Huh…”

outfit!

[JACOB HARLOW]

"Geez, fine, sorry. I'll leave." Jake said to the rude 'what' that came out of her mouth. He didn't move however, and simply gave her that very dopey, lopsided Jacob smile. It faded slightly, while he watched her pinch herself, and a look of confusion swept over his face when she moved in closer to him. Almost instinctively, his head dipped down--but the would be greeting kiss was put to a half when Cleo jabbed him hard in the chest. "Ow, Jesus Christ, Cleo." He balanced the box on one hand, rubbing at his chest. He was scrawny, layers of skin away from the bone. That jab had not been very friendly feeling.

"Look, fishgirl. You gotta wake up." He pulled his hand from his chest, and opened the box, flashing her the brownies inside, then looked over her shoulder into the dorm. "Can we talk in your room? As much as I'd love to see Scott again, I'd like to talk to you in peace without having the brownie monster come in and stuff his face." Jacob looked back down at Cleo, and really took in her appearance. Her hair was damp, but she looked like she had just woken up. He licked his lower lip for a moment, thinking, taking his best friend into consideration. Well...was she still his best friend? Years seperated before as children, and they came back together like nothing had ever passed. What could one more year be?

He drew a careful breath in, and chewed on the inside of his cheeks. "Please? We really do need to talk, Cleo." He added softer, the joking gone from his voice. He closed the box of brownies, and held onto them tightly with his large, boney hands. He wanted to hug Cleo, to hold onto her, apologize. He could almost feel the ebb of Figaro in the back of his mind, but he figureatively kicked the cat out, and focused on Cleo. He needed Cleo; he could feel it down in his bones that he wasn't complete without his fishgirl.

Outfit!

[CLEO EVERETT]

Ohhhhhhhhh dear lord. He was real. He was actually standing in front of her right now. Cleo sucked in a deep breath and told herself to stay calm. First things first, keep the anger in check. Just because people had a habit of disappearing on her for days, weeks, months on end didn’t mean she had to yell at them every time. Right. Yeah. Besides, this was Jacob. This was her Jaybird. And the last time they’d… well, that had led to him leaving. She didn’t want to think about that. Realizing she’d jabbed him rather hard, she managed a shaky smile, “sorry.”

Waking up she was. Definitely. It wasn’t just her, though, it was her little goldfish as well. Practically pumping energy into her host. It was helping but it was also really overwhelming. It wasn’t just the suddenness of her waking up, it was Jacob. There was something different about him. Something so obviously different and yet she couldn’t see anything that was obviously different. It was confusing. Add that confusing onto the ‘why is he here?’ confusing plus everything else she couldn’t figure out and… well, it was all a bit much to handle.

Cleo nodded slowly, stepping back to let him in. Did she want to talk? Could she say ‘no’ and slam the door in his face? Did he deserve that? He had left her for a year. He’d just abandoned her in New York. He had just left her here. Because they’d gotten in a fight. It sucked. Before he could close the box, Cleo grabbed a brownie and forced a choked laugh. He’d put gummy worms on them. God, why did he have to be so wonderful? She took a big bite and led the way to her room. “Mmm.” Ugh. “Scottie’s not here.” Hah, she’d like to see him try taking these brownies from her.

Watching as her goldfish returned to the bowl, Cleo smiled just a bit and wondered if Jacob would have anything to say on the matter. Scottie hadn’t questioned it because she’d told him about fish Cleo. What a day that had been. Falling into her computer chair, Cleo sunk deep into it, keeping her blanket on as well she could. “Where’d you go?” She asked before she could think of what she really wanted to ask. This was an easy enough question to answer, anyway. (But, OH, would she kill him if he’d gone to California).

[JACOB HARLOW]

Oh god, she took the brownie. His Cleo was still in there. “How is he, anyway?” He asked curiously, watching Cleo carefully. There was something off. He kept seeing the glimpses of gold that had nothing to do with her hair. He chewed the inside of his cheek and followed his fishgirl to the room, stopping cold when he saw the goldfish dive into the bowl. He set the box of brownies down on his bed, his eyes locked on that bowl while he walked over to it. Looking almost like he was trying to sneak up on it. “California…I went to check on my dad and my mom was there.” His said distantly, like he wasn’t focusing.

He crouched in front of the fishbowl, and squinted at it. This wasn’t a regular goldfish, it couldn’t be. The only time Jacob actually enjoyed fish were when they were on his place. And yet somehow, he was entranced by the beautiful fish in the bowl. “When did you get a goldfish?” He asked slowly, finally tearing his gaze away from the otherwise empty bowl. Oh, he saw the fish. But there was a nagging suspicion in the back of his head that he shouldn’t actually be seeing that fish. And that nagging suspicion turned into a knowing purr in the back of his mind.

Jake blinked rapidly a few times and shook his head slightly, glancing at the bowl again before up at Cleo. “After the fight, I needed to get away. I took a road trip, and decided to stop in to see my dad. See if he drank himself into oblivion you know.” He looked back down at the bowl, poking a finger into the water, watching the fish, “But my mom was there.” He twisted and scrunched, and puckered his lips. His mom walked out on him when he was just a little kid. For as long as he’d known Cleo, he didn’t have a mother. It was just him and his dad. “I guess I just lost track of time. I wanted to know her, wanted to know why she left.” Jake shrugged those broad, skinny shoulders of his, still fussing with the water.

“Turns out she left ‘cause he was a drunk. She didn’t want to take me because she wanted to sever all ties from him. Disappear so he’d never find her. Can’t do that with a kid on your hip.” Jake grinned, and looked back down at the fishbowl. Despite the smile on his face, there seemed to be something a little disturbed behind his eyes. “She came back, deciding she made a mistake, and wanted to play Susie Homemaker. I didn’t have a mom….so it was nice. And before I knew it, a year had gone by. I had to get away, so I came back here. I came back home.” They always did say home is where the heart is. And looking across the room at Cleo—he was pretty sure he knew where his heart was.

Outfit!

[CLEO EVERETT]

Cleo shrugged. She didn’t have to right to tell Jacob what Scottie had told her. It wasn’t hers to share. “He’s fine.” That was simple enough. Cleo continued to nibble at the brownie, occasionally picking a gummy worm off and setting it on her desk for later. Sure, brownies and gummy worms as one evidently tasted delicious but she hadn’t actually had gummy worms on their own in… in ages. Since… had she actually not had gummy worms since Jacob had left? It was all kind of a blur. Setting the rest of the brownie down on the surface, she crossed her arms and tried not to think about the last year.

“California?” She all but hissed, narrowing her eyes at him. For what felt like a very long time, she was as angry as she’d ever been. It didn’t last long. Why was he looked at her fishbowl? A good friend would have said something about his mom being there. A distracted, slightly paranoid friend forgot anything he’d said about leaving. Why was he messing with her fishbowl? It was the question that got her. Cleo’s eyes went wide as saucers and she gaped at him for a moment, vaguely realizing she probably looked like a fish right now (hadn’t he always teased her about that?).

Cleo snapped her mouth shut and looked away, trying to understand. Nobody could see her goldfish. It was just her. It was like a secret and she’d only told one person. And that person wasn’t Jacob. A lot of what he was saying was going in one ear and out the other. Their fight, his parents, time. “I’m sorry.” Was that all she could say? Honestly, under these circumstances, it seemed so. The goldfish seemed very agitated, not liking her space being invaded in. It made Cleo uncomfortable. As if Jacob were standing really close – too close. She shifted and finally, when it felt like she couldn’t take it anymore, “could you stop that, please?”

It sounded a lot meaner than she’d intended. Shaking her head, Cleo sat up and sighed. “My mom always treated you like her kid.” It was true. Josie had acted as if Jacob was her own son, making him something to eat whenever he came over and nagging him about the way he dressed when it was cold. “I’m sorry,” she said again. Any other day, she might’ve had something better to say. Now, he was bothering her goldfish and Cleo was still trying to get used to him standing in her room. Cleo stood and approached him, grabbing hold of his wrist and pulling him down to sit next to her on the bed.

What did she want to say? She kind of wanted to shout at him. She also want to hug him and never let go. Until she could decide, Cleo let go of his wrist and folded her hands in her lap. “New York missed you.” Yeah, so what if she wasn’t actually saying she’d missed him? Cleo glanced over to her goldfish, pleased to see that she had calmed down. What was with Jacob, being able to see her? Maybe that was what was obviously different? … No, that didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense right now.

[JACOB HARLOW]

The hiss of ‘California’ was enough to set her on edge. He watched her warily, but didn’t get mad. He nodded slightly—she had every right to be. Cleo belonged in California; the sun and the ocean, it was in her blood, in her veins. She had been homesick for so long, and he up and left for a year to live on the coast he hated. “It’s alright.” He mumbled to her apology, then looked back down at the fishbowl when Cleo told him to stop. A small smile flashed on his lips, and he chuckled. “You talk like you’re the one in the fishbowl.” He took his fingers out of the water, and continued to glance down at the bowl. He couldn’t keep his eyes on Cleo for too long—it was still surreal that he was standing just a few feet away.

When he felt the warmth of her hand around his thin wrist, he finally looked at her. “I know, but Josie’s not my mom.” He murmured quietly. For just that second, there was a flash in his eyes. The flash of a little boy who just wanted his mom to give a damn about him. And as quickly as it appeared, it was gone; and he took a seat on the edge of her bed where she guided him to. So cordial, so proper. Jacob fell backwards, his legs dangling off her bed, but he laid backwards on it, fingers folded on his thin stomach. “I missed you, Cleo.” He took a deep breath before sitting up again. He gathered himself, and brace himself with his hands as he looked at her.

His hands nervously ran through his hair, forcing it into the flip that his new cut gave him. He chewed the inside of his cheek, “I came back because…” He squinted for a moment at Cleo, then looked back at the fishbowl. How many times had he practiced it? Not that many—actually. Because every time he actually said the words, he felt sick and wrong that he had abandoned her in the tundra that was New York, while he soaked up the sunshine in California. Jake liked the sunshine, it was the water—not so much. That was the strange thing about them—they were so opposite. She was bright, all the way down to her vivid hair. She liked to swim, he didn’t. she was beautiful he was…funny looking. Everyone liked her, only a handful of people could understand his weird humor. And yet, throughout the years, the two had been inseparable.

“I came back because I love you.”

Outfit!

[CLEO EVERETT]

She might as well have been the one in the fishbowl. It was still weird to her how her claustrophobia had basically disappeared since fish Cleo’s awakening. Now, if anything, she wanted to see how tiny she could make herself to fit into small spaces. Just to see. “Yeah, well…” She said rather awkwardly, keeping her gaze on the little fish. “I named her Cleo.” She looked at Jacob, wrinkling her nose. “That’s not weird, is it?” Maybe it was over the top naming your goldfish after you. Not that she had! It just might seem that way to somebody who didn’t understand the situation.

Cleo really just wanted to hug him right now. It had been much too long since she’d been in his arms. “I think she’d like to hear that you’re back.” Then again, Josie had held Cleo for nights on end, hushing her daughter to sleep. Anything to stop her crying. For all Cleo knew, Josie might be furious. She’d probably be the angry that Cleo should have been. Cleo considered calling her mother right then or maybe texting her. This was all just so much for her to handle after having just woken up. To hear her mother’s voice, just a few words, might help. He laid back and she looked at him, all stretched out on her bed. It didn’t take him long to sit back up. And since he was saying it…

“I missed you, too. New York was supposed to be me. Like,” she could already feel a rambling rant coming on. “Saying New York missed you was my way of saying that it was actually… you know, me. I was just being… well, uhm. Stupid, I guess.” She shook her head, “I don’t even kn—” … What? Wait, okay. Slow down. Just a moment. What had he just said? Cleo looked very confused and felt even more so. Jacob didn’t love her. There was no way – he’d even said so. It had been forever ago, though and in some stupid chat room. However, it had been a year.

Not that any of that mattered. Because… well, he’d said it just now. And people didn’t joke about that. Never mind that he constantly joked around when he kissed her. How was she supposed to be sure he wasn’t kidding now? God, why was she even making such a big deal of this? Cleo loved her Jaybird; he was her best friend and probably always would be no matter their fights or the random years that kept them apart. Her goldfish was very impatient, waiting for her host to say something. “I love you too, Jaybird.” She said it as simply as she could, trying to put as little effort into it as possible.

It wasn’t that she didn’t love Jacob – she really did, honestly. It was just that she didn’t like saying those words with such… meaning. Cleo stood up very abruptly and left Jacob’s side to attend to her goldfish. Distractions, she needed distractions. “Why can you see her?” she asked quickly, sprinkling little flakes of fish food into the bowl. Little golden Cleo was trying to say something; as if she had all the answers. Unfortunately, Cleo’s mind was both fuzzy and going a mile a minute and she couldn’t focus enough to understand. Which sucked.

[JACOB HARLOW]

“Somehow I don’t think Josie’s gonna be entirely too pleased with me right off the bat. She may just kill me, knowing her.” Jacob sighed, and leaned back against the bed for a moment, watching her process what he had said. He tried, and failed, to stop the smile from coming over his face. It was a little one, but the expression on her face while her brain tried to catch up with her was always amusing to him. The smile didn’t get too big, because his stomach was still doing flip-flops, knotting. How grade school was this? It was utterly ridiculous. Then she said it back. Jacob started to his feet quickly after her; she said it back, but something in the way she said it. So simply, so easily. Without much of an effort. This was not a best friend 'I love you', dammit.

He had expected a hug, a kiss, maybe even a slap—but she was over there walking to the goldfish by the same name. It was extremely fitting; they were both the same color essentially. Cleo’s scales glimmered the same way that Cleo’s hair did. Jacob shook his head, trying to stop drawing comparisons between human Cleo, and her fish counterpart. He walked over to her, gently grasping her arms in his hands and turned her around slowly. He stooped down in that hunched over way of his, and looked her in the face. “Cleo, I just told you I’m in love with you, and you’re asking me why I can see the goldfish in that bowl?” He said it very slowly, very carefully. But there was a tremor in his voice, a nervous laughter sneaking up behind the words.

“I can see her, because you put her in a bowl in plain sight.” Unless Cleo was deflecting. Unless she meant it as a best friend ‘I love you’. The realization erased the smile from Jacob’s lips, and he released his light touch on Cleo’s arms, and took a step back and straightened out a bit, and decided to look anywhere but Cleo. Cleo!fish included. His hand ran through his coif nervously, and the Adam’s Apple in his neck bobbed as he cleared his throat. “Do you want me to go? I kinda just laid a double whammy on you, I can always go, and you can call me when you’re ready to talk, or see me again….or something.” So he could go curl up in a dark corner in his flat and scratch the paint off the walls in misery.

Wonderful.

Outfit!

[CLEO EVERETT]

Her mom probably would kill him. Give him a stern talking to. God, could she yell when she was angry. Cleo was glad she hadn’t done anything lately to set off her mom. They hadn’t had any big fights in the past year. Cleo glanced over at Jacob, realizing it was thanks to him. Her mother had been unbelievably helpful, as if Jacob leaving meant Cleo couldn’t do anything on her own. As if she needed to be called every day (which she had for awhile), as if sleeping at the house was better for her than at school, as if she didn’t have her own money to pay for sweets (though, honestly, why would she turn down sweets being bought for her?). Looking down at her hands, Cleo furrowed her brows and wondered just how entirely hopeless she’d been after Jacob had left.

Cleo looked up at him, blinking, honestly confused. Didn’t he get it? She did love him. She loved him more than she loved sweets. Cleo lived on sweets. Which, with her logic, meant she loved Jacob more than she did living. But she couldn’t say that. She wanted to. But there was no way she could. All she could think was that he’d leave again. He’d leave her here in stupid New York while he went and soaked up the sun in beautiful California. He’d leave her again if she said anything. She couldn’t risk that. She wanted him to stay with her forever.

Cleo glared up at him, as if he were crazy. "No. No, you can not leave." He'd just gotten back and he thought she wanted him to leave? No, he could stay right here with her until she figured everything out. Until she started thinking straight. (There had to be some way her goldfish could explain. Why couldn't she talk? That would make things so much easier.) Yeah, so, she may have just said 'I love you' as simply as she could. Yeah, so, she may be avoiding the seriousness of this whole thing. Yeah, so, she may be ruining everything by being so afraid. She got that. She definitley knew how stupid she was being.

"First of all, Jaybird..." She paused, for the nickname felt funny on her tongue. Just a second ago, she had been fine. Now... now it just seemed weird, calling him that again. Saying 'Jaybird' again. It had been what felt like ages since she'd last even uttered the nickname. An entire year she'd gone without saying his name because all it did was make her want to cry. "She's not in plain sight." Did she even want to tell him? Cleo was so sure people would think her crazy if she even mentioned the goldfish. She didn't want Jacob thinking she was crazy. Especially now that he was finally back in New York.

Cleo sighed, looking around her room, as if she could find something else to talk about. Anything but having to explain this. Tugging on her hair, she took a deep breath and began pacing. "Okay, okay. She's not actually... real." The goldfish made an annoyed sound, as if to say she certainly was real. Cleo shot her a glare, trying to make it clear that she did not need interruptions. "I kind of sorta almost... drowned. I guess." She would never get used to admitting that. How embarrassing. "And then she showed up, and saved me, but other people can't see her."

Cleo stopped then, on the other side of the room from him. She tilted her head, "which is why I don't understand why you can." Maybe it was that he was host to a character too...? Could that be why he could see the goldfish? It might sort of explain things. She hadn't meant any other ones yet, though she definitely planned on talking to Jamie and Jemissa soon. For all she knew, they were characters from Pinocchio as well.

[JACOB HARLOW]

Jacob's eyebrows shot up. Okay, okay. He wouldn't leave. Either way, Cleo was being painfully confusing. As much as he wanted to squeeze answers out of her, he managed to settle himself on the edge of the bed, leaning forward with his elbows on his boney knees, and letting his hands dangle. It seemed that no matter what strange position he contorted his lanky body into, he always felt comfortable. Again, she avoided though. And each time she avoided the fact that he just admitted over twenty years of pent of affection for his best friend--she still couldn't even talk about it. It made him feel nervous, scared. Maybe if he had spoke up sooner? Back when everything between them was good; maybe then it could have been different.

Attempting to push the sickening feelings behind him, Jacob listened very carefully as Cleo explained. His eyes moved back and forth between fish!Cleo, and his Cleo. Those brilliant blues paused on her as he let it all sink in. Almost drowned? It was hard enough to picture her almost drowning--but to think he hadn't been here. What if there was no storybook fish to save her? What if Cleo had just been a normal girl? Her best friend left her, and he didn't tell anyone where he was going. She could have died, and he hadn't been there. The lump in his throat was hard to swallow, and he stared down at his hands for a moment. Strangely enough, that was bothering him more than anything else he was telling her.

Pressing his lips together, he tried to find the words to say. "I can answer that." He managed to say quietly, then looked back at the fishbowl. He could feel Figaro rubbing against the insides of his mind, purring. I told you so. Came the lazy voice that accompanied the image of the cat that danced in his mind. Chewing on the inside of his cheek. It made so much sense now. Figaro had always tried to tell him, and Jacob had ignored it. Honestly--he thought he was going crazy. That he was sick, and was projecting that onto Cleo. He justified that as being his reason to stay in California for so long. Maybe if he was a mental case, he could get help. Cleo didn't need that in her life. But everything was adding up.

"I'm pretty sure she's told you about her friend?" He clasped his hands together, not moving from his leaned over position, a long finger gesturing to the fishbowl. He hated the water because he was a cat. She loved it, because she was a fish. They got along so well, because in the end--Figaro and Cleo were friends. But they fought so vehemently, because one was predator--the other way prey. "Gepetto's kitten. A little black and white tuxedo kitten. Mischevious, jealous, catty--for lack of a better term." He wasn't crazy, then. Unless he had finally been locked up and this was some very vivid hallucination. "You could say that kitten and I are pretty close." Finally, he forced himself to look up at Cleo. Waiting for the gravity of his words to finally fall on her.

Outfit!

[CLEO EVERETT]

She really just wanted to curl up in his arms. Was that so much to ask? To see him there, sitting on her bed, all lanky and tall, just like she’d always loved was… it was… she just… Even though he’d been right there in front of her for at least fifteen minutes, she worried he might disappear, and she’d wake up from a dream. (Without meaning to, she pinched herself again just to make sure she wasn’t sleeping). Cleo couldn’t stop fidgeting, twirling strands of hair around her fingers, and straightening her clothes, and twisting her promise ring around her finger. The confidence she normally had was seriously lacking, and it wasn’t helping with her nervous habits.

Remembering that she had candy on her desk, Cleo crossed the room again, and took each gummy worm she’d picked off the brownie. She ate them slowly, waiting for Jacob to answer her. The sweetness, the sugary wonderful deliciousness, was already working wonders. Her goldfish seemed particularly excited, as if she knew already what Jacob was going to say. Cleo kept her eyes on the little fish, watching as she twirled around, glub glub glubing happily. Cleo was almost jealous, but when Jacob started, she gave him her full attention. He had better be able to answer… wait, what did he mean he could answer that? She dropped her arms to her side, now empty hands curling into fists. This was not what she had expected.

Cleo nodded a couple of times. Whenever the goldfish got into one of her particularly chatty moods, she’d never shut up about the kitten that she’d been friends with in the Disney’s adaption of Pinocchio. Sometimes, Cleo was sure that she’d rather find Figaro than she would Pinocchio and Gepetto. She rocked on her feet, waiting for Jacob to make himself absolutely one hundred percent clear. If he was saying what she thought he was saying… well, it could’ve changed everything, couldn’t it? Ha ha, catty. That got a smile out of her. You could say… that kitten and I… are pretty clo…se… OHMYGOD, he was saying what she thought he was saying!

Without waiting a beat, Cleo made her way to the bed, dropping onto it and sitting beside him. She faced Jacob completely, a smile working its way onto her face. “What?” She laughed, leaning in close to search for any tell tale signs that he was teasing. This was the closest she’d been to him in a year, and little things were coming back to her; particularly how perfect his hugs were and how badly she missed them. Without thinking on it too much, she gently pushed him back and pulled his hands apart, and in the blink of an eye, she’d thrown her arms around him, burying her face into the crook of his neck. God, how she’d missed the feel of him. “You’re not making fun of me, right?” She mumbled, feeling this might be too good to be true.

Letting go only to wrap her arms around his waist instead, Cleo pulled herself onto his lap, curling up on his legs, trying to make herself as small as possible, trying to be as close to him as she could. “You really are…?” Goldfish Cleo was splish-splashing in her bowl, and her host could feel just how pleased she was with this reveal. About time.