#🌻

[call-sign-shark]

✨ Forget-Me-Not || Ch.3✨

Summary:  Jake calls you in the evening, panicking: Amber is sick and he does not know what to do. — Or how a flower girl will try to heal a heart beyond repair 

Words: 3.1k

Tags: fluff, dad!Jake, like tooth-rotting fluff, domestic situation

Read Part 1 || Part 2

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Psss don't forget to reblog 💚

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The crackling of the fire, dancing in the hearth, is lulling you to sleep. Heavy as lead, your eyelids close as you doze off, comfortably curled in one of the living room’s armchairs. A pleasant smell of chamomile tea and warm brioche floats in the whole house – your Aunt has just removed the cake she has baked from the oven and has put it on the kitchen table.

If heaven is a place, you are convinced it is Aunt Maya’s house.

Your sleepy mind wanders from thought to thought. Did the last client’s wife enjoy the wedding bouquet you made for her? Will you wash your hair tonight or are you feeling too lazy to do that? Despite the myriad of thoughts you have, your brain always comes back to the memory of Jake Seresin kissing you on the beach. The smell of sunscreen, the sun’s warmth on your skin, and the intoxicating taste of his lips… You continuously recall every slightest detail of the date and, each time you do so, a wave of desire lights your soul on fire. When focusing hard enough on the fresh recollection of your last encounter with the handsome pilot, you can still smell the delicate scent of the ocean melted with his masculine and slightly musky perfume. Since that afternoon, Jake and you meet almost every day.

Summer fling or summer love, whatever you call it, it cannot be ignored. This is what Aunt Maya said when you told her about Jake.

You are about to fall into Morpheus’ soft arms when the muffled sound and vibrations of your phone snatch you from sleep, causing you to jolt. 

A quick glance at the clock on the wall: it is 8 PM. Thoughts bump into each other in your skull, for you do not expect any phone call. You blink several times to shoo the fatigue away from your sleepy eyes and grab your phone to look at the screen.

Jake 🌻 

Your brows furrow at his name. Even though you got in the habit of calling each other for hours almost every night, it never happens at this time of the evening. Indeed, Jake makes sure Amber is deeply asleep first before spending time with you. You pick up the phone

“Hello?”

“Poppy, I’m sorry for calling you this late but — but I need you.” Jake’s panicked voice sweeps your smile away. Concerned, you get up from the armchair and start to scurry around the living room. Staying still during a phone call had never been a thing for you.

“Alright. What’s the problem?” You keep your composure, hoping for the calmness in your voice to soothe the aviator.

“It’s Amber.” He pauses and takes a deep breath, but his attempt to keep his cool fails miserably, “She has quite a high fever and I don’t know what to do. I – I tried to call Penny but she doesn’t pick up. I asked Rooster and Shark but they are both fucking clueless and useless. Should I bring her to the hospital? Should I give her meds? I don’t know.” He is talking very quickly, and his words muddle up in a half-incomprehensible soliloquy.

“Jake”

“I mean, I’m scared of giving her the wrong type of meds and worsening the situation. But I can’t stay there, arms crossed, while she is clearly in pain! I mean–”

“Jake, calm down. Focus on my voice.” Your tone is firmer but your words are coated with tenderness. Iron fist in a velvet glove they said. You hear the pilot’s shaky breath on the line: he has closed his eyes and holds on to your voice as he would do with a lifebelt, “Do you want me to come?” 

Another short pause followed by a long and shaky exhale, “Yes please,” he asked.

“Okay, see you soon.” You double-time to the corridor to put your black Dr. Martens on as soon as you hang up. There is no time to waste, you mumble to yourself for the simple thought of Amber and Jake in distress makes you utterly worried. 

“Where are you going, Poppy?” Aunt Maya’s voice said from the kitchen. The lovely old woman is cutting brioche slices and spreading butter on them. She does not even look at you, far too absorbed in his task.

“A friend of mine’s got a problem with his daughter. Gotta help him.” You reply, half distracted by the search for Aunt Maya’s car key. 

“Left pocket of my purple jacket.” She declares. You freeze – How the hell does she know what you are looking for? You turn your head towards the kitchen's open door expecting to see Aunt Maya’s silhouette standing there but she is not. The lovely old woman’s lips stretch in a faint but cunning smile, for she can easily imagine your surprise.  You squint your eyes and look into the pocket of the said jacket:  she is right, the car key is here. The palm of your hand tightens around the car key as you shake your head, amused. Sometimes you wonder if Aunt Maya is the daughter of a witch they couldn’t burn.  After all, she had a black cat, was a good cook, she knew plants and their effects by heart ... Yeah, Aunt Maya might be an actual witch.

“Thanks! I don’t know when I’ll be back home.” 

“Keep me informed, dear.”  She states, her voice emphasizing your nickname to make sure you won't forget to send her messages. You are about to grab the door handle when Aunt Maya’s voice echoes a second time, just before you leave, “Poppy?”

“Yeaaah?”

“ Be careful not to wound yourself with the shards of a broken heart. They can be really sharp.” 

“Uhu!” You agree without really listening to what she has just said, for you are too impatient to leave. The door slams at your departure, plunging the house into silence. 

Aunt Maya gently shakes her head, wishing you would not learn it the hard way. 

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The car engine stops purring as soon as you turned the ignition key and slip it into one of your pockets. You grab the bag on the passenger seat and rest it on your lap for you to quickly roam through the stuff you have brought. You check if you have not forgotten anything.  Ibuprofen, soft body sponges, a light Lion King blanket, and plenty of food-- You did not know what Amber likes to eat so you basically bought everything that children of her age love alongside a bunch of fresh fruits. Realizing the weight of the bag, you suddenly feel ridiculous. Isn't it a bit too much? At this point, you are even afraid of Jake's reaction; you don't want him to think you know children better than him nor you want him to believe you meddle too much in his and his daughter’s life.

You are about to leave the car when a familiar floral smell makes you stop in mid-motion. Frowning, you glance over your shoulder to take a look at the backseat. Your Y/EC eyes are welcomed by the tiny white bells of several sprigs of Lily-in-the-Valley, tied with a white silk ribbon. What are these flowers doing here? At first, you thought Aunt Maya may have forgotten them, but you quickly give up the idea for the old woman would never forget flowers in the back of her car. In fact, she was the kind of passionate soul who would have taken care of the bouquet even before taking care of herself. Looking at them a little closer, you notice a small note.

"Carried away by a soft summer breeze,  the sweet and green fragrance of my nodding blooms promises the return of happiness." 

A soft smile enlightens your face as you recognized the handwriting. Aunt Maya is definitely a witch. You reached for the flowers and smell their delicate spring-like scent. If you already bring a whole minimarket in your bag, you might as well take the Lilies-of-the-Valley with you.

"Damn it," you grumble as you are making your way to the door while trying not to damage the flowers or drop the bag's content all over the ground. Fortunately enough, Jake is already at the door, one of his shoulders leaning against the wooden frame. He has heard the sound of your engine from inside the house.

"Let me help you," He said while already unburdening you from the bag. Somehow, he is well aware that you are strong enough to carry it by yourself, but he feels bad for making you come to his house in the midst of the evening, so he tries to make up for it. Despite his anxiety, the sight of the adorable flowers bouquet in your two delicate hands brought a genuine smile to his face. He has never told you but each time you bring him flowers, the fortress he had built around his heart shatters a bit more. 

Jake’s house is a typical beachfront house, whose prevailing material is maple wood. Far from being pompous, his home is more like a cozy nest than a fancy and luxurious residence. The living room is spacious, with an open kitchen. The man makes a good living, but he likes simple things. Growing in Texas often humbled him. Jake puts down the groceries on the kitchen table. Then, he grabs a glass, pours water in it, and sets it on the counter for you to put the lilies in. A faint and exhausted smirk is etched on his thin lips, but you know the last thing he wishes at this moment is to smile. He is just being polite. You put the bouquet in the glass and take a deep breath.

“Alright, where is Amber?”

“In her bedroom”, Jake turned around to face you and leaned against the kitchen table, half-sitting on it. His strong and calloused hands are gripping its edge, “She is trying to sleep but she can’t,” his formal smile slowly fades away from his good-looking face, “When she came back from school she told me she wasn’t feeling well. Headache and stuffy nose. I obviously thought she had caught a cold but one hour ago she started shaking like a leaf and crying. I took her temperature and, dear God, she was burning.” While talking, the aviator had brought a trembling hand on his neck to rub it in a nervous reflex. The kitchen’s light reflects on Jake’s tanned skin and underlines the dark bags he had under his sea-green eyes. To be honest, this is the first time you realize how tired he must be. Hardworking naval aviator, divorced man, single dad, and sports aficionado, you wonder how he can do it all without breaking down.

You take a step closer and gently press your cold hand on his warm arm, remaining silent. You want him to know that you are here for him, but you are afraid of not finding the right words. The contrast between your body temperature wakes up a firework of sensations in your stomach. Jake’s muscles relax as if your simple touch has the power to heal his wounds.

“I usually call Penny when I don’t know what to do but I’ve forgotten she and Amelia are spending a few days sailing with their boat.” His voice, coated with fear a short time ago, is quieter. You crack a soft smile.

“So you thought calling Rooster and Shark was a good idea?”

“I freaked out, but I quickly remembered they suck with kids. They panicked even more than I did. Plus, they are having a short road trip together so they can’t even come,” He pauses and lets out a long sigh, “I am an awful dad. Not even able to know what to do when my own daughter is sick.” Sadness glows in his emerald eyes.

“Don’t beat yourself, Jake. You are scared because you love her to death, and that’s far from being a flaw.” You gently lay your small hand on his cheek, enjoying the raspy sensation of his stubble beard against the delicate flesh of your fingertips. Jake would usually be clean shaved, so seeing him with beard amuses you: it suits him well. But what doesn’t anyway? Lulled by your voice, the pilot closes his eyes and lets out a long sigh. He does not know how but you always manage to find the words to calm him down. The exact words and tone — at this point he suspects you to be some kind of witch. Less than ten minutes has passed, and his anxiety already decreased because of your reassuring presence.

“But”

“Hush. Can you show me where Amber’s bedroom is?” Your fingers run one last time on his cheek in a sweet caress before you back up and rummage through the groceries bag to grab what you needed, “You know, I would not worry if I were you. Kids can have a sudden high fever but it usually does not last long. You told me she caught a cold, well it can possibly come from he–”

“Dad, my head hurts!” Said a tired and squeaky voice coming from behind you. Jake and you turn around as one, only to find little Amber standing on the last step of the staircase dressed in a pale pink fluffy pajama. She is rubbing her eyes and sobbing, unable to express her discomfort by other means than crying from her ten little years old. You looked at her, an expression of pure sadness sweeping away your smile. Seeing the bubbly little Amber sobbing breaks your heart.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Jake does not wait any further and immediately walks to his daughter to carry her in his arms. As soon as her dad grabs her, the young girl clings to him like a baby koala, “Don’t worry, Poppy and I are going to take care of you.” He says softly, gently lulling her by stroking her back. As loving the sight of the two is, something disturbs you: Amber is dressed far too much for someone with a high fever.

“Is Poppy gonna stay with me too?” Amber’s little voice asks before she glances at you, curiously. To be true, she missed having a feminine figure in her life, even though she cannot really word it – nor she wants to. Having you around soothes her even more. Jake looks at you, his emerald eyes waiting for your answer as attentively as Amber.

“Of course, I’m gonna stay. And we’ll fight the fever together, little cheetah?”

Little cheetah. Amber lets out a tired chuckle at the pet name, for she immediately understands you call her like that because, when you first met, she ran to you. She laughs, and it is everything. Watching the little blonde girl’s joy makes your heart sparkle. Without further ado, you join the pair and pressed one hand on Jake’s lower back while the other is busy carrying a sponge, a blanket, and a banana, “I’ve got an idea since you cannot sleep. What if we all watch the movie you want?”

“Can we watch the Lion King?” She asks, her face half hidden in her father’s neck. The aviator cannot help but snort, amused. He swears he knows every line of the movie by heart, but that comes with the joy of having kids. 

“Of course, we can watch it, that’s also one of my favorite movies. By the way, look what I brought.” You show her the blanket you’ve bought for her: it was a huge and comfy black blanket with the movie logo – a lion face – on it. Amber’s eyes widen at such a sight, her sea-green iris enlightened with excitement.

“Is it for me?!” Amber beams.

Jake lowkey clenches his jaws, trying hard not to let his heart fall for you, even though he is afraid it’s already too late. His inner voice whispers in his ear, telling if that it would not mind if you would stay in their life forever. 

“But first, Dad’s gonna dress you with something lighter. Aren’t you, dad?” 

“Hm?” Snatched from his thoughts, Jake looks at his daughter, then at you, and blinks several times until his mind connects with what you just said, “But she’s sick. She needs to wear something warm.”

“Nope, she has a high fever, and wearing something too warm can increase her body temperature. She’ll feel better with a lighter pajama.” You raise a brow and the pilot falls silent. He stares at you for a short while, completely wrecked by the thought of you being a caring mom for his daughter. After the bloody war, he fought against his ex-wife to gain Amber’s custody back, Seresin swore to never let another woman step into his and his daughter’s life. And here she was,  looking at you with complicity even her own biological mother never had with her. 

“Alright, we’ll be there in five minutes.” He finally says, managing to come back to his senses by God knows what kind of miracle. As the father and his daughter disappear upstairs, you decide to make the living room the coziest place possible, already comfortable in this household.

You start cutting fruits and chocolate squares in a bowl, in the company of the spring fragrance coming from the lily-of-the-valley next to you.

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Oh yes, the past can hurt. But from the way I see it, you can either run from it, or learn from it. 

Amber’s eyes were staring at the screen as Rafiki talked to a grown-up Simba, the movie making her forget the discomfort she was feeling lately. With one hand, she picks banana slices and chocolate. With the other, she presses the cold water-soaked sponge you gave her to alleviate the fever against her forehead. At some point, the adorable little blond turns from her dad to lean her head against your shoulder, her eyes – green like wild forests – still focusing on the screen. You glance at her and smile, a wave of tenderness coming through your soul each time you would look at her lovely bratty pout. 

Hey! Where are you going?

I’m going back! 

Jake’s heart races to the rhythm of Hans Zimmer’s This is My Home. He has tried really hard not to look at Amber and you, snuggling together and eating the snacks you had made for her to feel better. His very own soul could not handle it – One more glance is all it can take for him to definitely tear his heart from his ribcage and give it to you, no matter if you destroy it right after. 

But Amber liked you so much. And you’ve been seeing each other almost every day for one full month.  He brings one hand to his forehead, feeling feverish all of sudden. Maybe he has caught Amber’s cold – How can he realize you were the one giving him the fever?

It’s going to be dangerous.

Danger? Haha! I laugh in the face of danger!

His shiny green eyes cannot help but take a quick look at you, but as he gives in he realized he cannot look away anymore. Enchanted by your charming silhouette, Jake drowns in your features. You are beautiful – so beautiful that the flowers you always brought could not compete with your graceful looks. Feeling watched, you frown slightly and check on the blonde pilot. Your eyes meet, and time stops. Boom, boom, it beats faster and faster in his chest. He gathers all his willpower and stretches his arm to rest it on the couch’s back right behind you.

Amber has started to doze off, still snuggled up to you. It seems like she does not want to let you go – Good thing, his father neither.

“Please stay,” Jake whispers, doing his best not to wake his daughter up.

“But it’s going to be dangerous.” You reply, your lovely smile enlightening your face.

“Danger? I laugh in the face of danger.” 

“Of course you do, Seresin.” 

You chuckle.

He falls.

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