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gvfmarge · 1 month

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Lighthouse of my Soul - Chapter 2

Heeelllooooooo everyone! Here’s chapter two! It’s a bit longer and hopefully intriguing, go read part one first if you haven’t already! Why do you think poor Jake wants to talk to her so bad? 🤭

I have so much planned for this story. If you’d like to be tagged, just let me know! I’ll try to crank these out as fast as I can, but there’s two kiddos sucking the life out of me everyday. Again, go easy on me, I don’t actually know what I’m doing! Read chapter one here.

Warnings: Talks of mentally abusive parents. Cussing. Spooky?

(Ghost)Jake x Reader

You started the day out with stocking your fridge. Due to the lack of cabinet space or a pantry, you found a cute wooden bookshelf that would have to suffice for your dry goods. You wandered along the small local owned thrift stores and the handful of chain stores that the island provided. There isn't much on the Outer Banks. During the summer, it gets pretty busy. It's a hot spot for tourists that just want a slower pace in paradise.

If you needed anything more than the Food Lion could accommodate, you'd have to travel across the bridge back to the main land. There were several fast food restaurants up north but the further south you get, the less and less likely you're going to find anything quick to eat.

You had picked up two folding chairs that the Dollar General had that would have to do for seating in your living room and the cardboard boxes would have stick around a while longer as your coffee table.

Wandering through the thrift stores, you had found several cute mix matched plates and glass cups as well as a few vintage paintings to hang up.

You had been exploring all day and finally made your way back to the tiny cottage around dusk. Walking up the deck stairs to the front door you looked through the glass pane straight through your living area and through the back doors glass. You noticed a small red flickering flame hovering in the Adirondack chair that sat on the other side of the house. You stopped in your tracks and stared, mouth agape. What is that? Your mind racing and heart pounding harder and harder with each second. Do you walk around the wrap around deck to sneak up on the sight? Do you just stare? Do you turn around and bolt it back to your car and drive away and never return?

You were still for a few more moments until you snapped yourself out of the terrified gaze. You slowly lowered your grocery bags onto the weathered deck wood and tried to sneakily creep your way around the corners of the house. As you came to the back side of the house, the strong salty night breeze rushed through your hair, making you gasp to catch your breath. The goosebumps returned, just like they had last night. You slowly peaked around the corner of the house, trying to make yourself unseen. But alas, no one and nothing was there. You blinked a few times trying to focus your eyes to where you had seen the red flame but still, there was nothing. You slowly walked to the chair where it had been, taking in your surroundings incase there was an intruder or someone there to do no good. As you inched closer and closer to the chair, the strong aroma of tobacco filled your lungs once more.

Was someone just using my deck to smoke? Your mind wandered to all the possibilities. You wracked your brain hard to try and remember exactly what you saw. You were positive there was not a figure sitting in your chair, you would have noticed the outline or a shadow if there had been. What was the light? Where did it go? You stood there wondering what you had gotten yourself into. Was someone there to play tricks on you? Try to scare you away? The locals on the island aren't particularly fond of the tourists or outsiders moving here, they try their hardest to keep the island as natural as possible. That was your only possible reasoning. There's no way the smell of tobacco would linger if there wasn't someone here smoking. Maybe they had come up from the beach and needed a place to sit? You tried to calm your mind and think only the best case scenario.

You peaked around the other side of the cottage, to make sure no one was lurking and waiting on you to come back for your groceries. Once you deemed yourself alone, you let yourself inside and began stocking your fridge and cute bookshelf with the items you had picked up.

After finally getting everything sorted and put away and changing into your comfy flower pajamas, you sat down in one of your new fold up chairs in your barren living room to watch TV. You had finished the dinner you had picked up from a local restaurant and were lazily scrolling through your phone and somewhat paying attention to the show when you heard faint music. You thought maybe it was just something playing in the background of the show you were watching until it changed to a commercial. You realized the soft guitar had never stopped. Your eyes grew wider as you realized the music was coming from upstairs. You hesitated to reach for the remote to mute the TV. Maybe if you just ignored it, it never happened? You did eventually turn the TV off all together and sat silently listening to the acoustic guitar that you know you don't own being played up the stairs. “Could there be anything else this house cannot do.” As fast as it slipped from your mouth, you quickly wish you hadn't said it out loud. The guitar came to an abrupt halt and you felt your chest tighten, you felt like if you even dared to breathe, whoever or whatever would come for you.

After a pause, you heard the footsteps begin. You followed the sound with your eyes on the ceiling underneath the typewriter room. They started from where the desk is in the room and made their way to the door, you did not hear the door open but you know you have kept it shut since moving in, the footsteps continued to the top of the stairs and they almost bounced down the steps, like a playful child would when coming down for Saturday breakfast. You swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat and knew that this may be it. Whatever has been haunting you since you moved in would finally win. You could hardly keep your eyes open, whatever it was, you did not want to see it appear from the stairs. You did not want to face it.

You waited. You thought that whoever was coming down the stairs for you should have made it to you by now, but you felt no one. You heard no one. The footsteps seemed to have disappeared after they reached the bottom floor. Your eyes had been screwed so tight that they were starting to hurt, slowly opening your eyes and peaking through your lashes, you were alone.

The air finally escaping your lungs made you slump over. You had never felt fear in this way. This was supposed to be your home. You wanted to get away from the real monsters and people in your life that had made your worst fears come true, why did you have to endure even more fear in the one place you thought would be safe.

His POV

Why isn't she seeing me?! You paced the floor in the typewriter room. This was your safe space, where you created music and wrote love letters. Where you spent most of your time, listening to the ocean waves and reading about pirates and far away lands.

I've tried everything I know, but she still is so afraid of me! You ran your index finger and thumb across the stubble on your top lip. Slamming your hands down on the desk that sat under the window, you stared out to the sea. I can't believe she's finally here and I have no way to be with her. Your eyes grew misty with the thought that you might scare her away before you even got the chance to tell her. What if she never saw me? What if we just coexisted in this house without ever being able to communicate?

The image of her sitting in the chair as you waltzed down the stairs to greet her is burned into your mind. Her eyes so tightly shut that it looked like it pained her, her white knuckles clenched around the seat and her shoulders visibly shaking with fear. This is not what you meant to do to her. You just wanted to talk with her, show her that you were also here, share your space with her. You replayed the night that you were typing your thoughts away on the typewriter; you heard her make her way down the stairs and had smirked when you realized she was up late into the night. The grin on your face fell when you heard the loud crash of her fall to the bottom of the stairs. You instantly made your way to her side, checking to make sure she was uninjured. You helped her make her way back to bed and watched her fall back into a restful sleep. She looked so beautiful and peaceful. Her long, wavy blonde hair draped over her shoulders and the slight snore coming from her lips made you finally feel that you were no longer alone. Maybe, you could find a way to keep her. But, when she awoke that morning you knew she had no memory of what happened. All she remembered was fear. Fear that you had instilled in her and hammered deeper and deeper with everyday that she had been here.

How will I fix this? I have to fix this! You stayed in your room, doing your best to make himself invisible. Just give her time, Jake. She'll come around. She has to.

Your POV

The house had been quiet the last couple of days, which you were very thankful for. You started your new position at the newspaper tomorrow and you wanted a clear mind to start off on a positive note. You had searched through your closet for your first day outfit and decided on a pair of dark green flowy pants and a nice beige button down that you decided to tuck in, just in the front. You were going to curl loose waves in your hair and finish off with light makeup, you wanted to make a good first impression. You hoped that this temporary job would turn into a permanent position with the newspaper.

You had everything hanging up on the frame to your closet and had made overnight oats for a quick grab and go breakfast. The cold brew was ready in the fridge and you had tidied up the house as much as you could in its current state.

You felt ready, you felt excited. You were hoping you weren't the youngest employee there, but being that this is a small town, you weren't sure who you would meet. You spent the afternoon lounging on your deck, diving into your newly started romance novel. The hot June sun beating down on your skin and the ocean breeze was just enough to keep you cool. This was peace. You felt like you were living a dream and you felt in the back of your mind that you may wake up and you would be back home, living in your nightmare.

You hadn't heard from any of your family since you moved. Which does not bother you, when you told them you had been offered the job here, they scoffed at even the thought and basically told you, you would fail. You were here to prove them wrong. You knew what you were capable of. You just had to dig deep and find the woman that you knew you were. You had to heal your inner child and tell her that you would make it out, you would make something of yourself, you would not be who they said you were. The years and years of mental abuse had wore you down to the point that you didn't even know if you were capable of living a happy life. You had internalized every hateful and spiteful comment that your parents had ever said to you, packaging it all up into a box inside your mind and it felt like you would never be able to throw it away.

Your stomach rumbled as you continuously flipped page after page. Finally giving in to the feeling, you walked back inside to put together something for lunch.

Jake's POV

You sat quietly in the Adirondack chair beside her. Taking in her beauty as she intently focused on her book. Something a little risqué you gathered from the way her lips would curl up every now and then as her right eyebrow tweaked up, she would shift in her seat and continue reading. You silently sat with her and watched the waves crash against the sand, following the few passerby as they walked down the beach. Wondering their life story. Were they happy? Did they have a family? Pets? What did they do for work? Did they live here or were they on vacation? A few times you created their own little stories in your head. The couple holding hands and walking through the newly wet sand had just been married. They decided to visit the island as a small honeymoon, not wanting anything too extravagant. They liked the history behind the island and loved to visit the multiple lighthouses and learn about the locals.

The old man that was seen carrying his fishing pole came here to fish. From sunrise to sunset he was on the beach surf fishing. The rest of his family back at their vacation rental or shopping around. He wasn't sure, all he wanted to do was sit on the tranquil beach and throw his fishing line. He didn't mind if all he caught were skates or puffer fish, he just enjoyed the peace that the ocean brought him. He may sort through a few shells every now and then and pick out the prettiest ones to take back to his daughters that night when he finally decided to call it a day and have dinner with them.

You returned your gaze to her, still sitting cross legged in the large wooden chair. She suddenly closed her book and stood up to walk inside, she stopped at the deck railing and looked out over the sea. Taking in a deep breath of the salty air, her lips upturned in pure bliss. You hoped to see more of this side of her. There was something so magnetic about her, you couldn't help but want to be with her. Even if she was terrified of you, even if she had no idea you were there.

You followed her in the glass door and took a seat on one of the fold up chairs in the living room. What a strange choice of furniture you thought as you tried to get comfy. She casually strolled around the kitchen, collecting random things from the fridge and shelves to put something together for her lunch.

She finally made her way into the living area with you and sat down in the matching black chair beside you. She reached down and turned on the TV, satisfied with whatever came on first. Should I say something? You thought to yourself. I don't want to scare her. God you're being such a creep Jake, why are you just following her around like a stalker, you're trying to get to know her not murder her.

You sat beside her until she eventually got up to put her bowl in the sink. You felt awkward, you knew this was ridiculous. She really can't tell that I'm here too?

Her POV

The day was finally here. You woke up to your alarm ringing at 7am, the soft sunlight shining in on your face and lighting up your bedroom. You waisted no time getting up and dressed. Brushing your teeth and fixing your hair and makeup just the way you had imagined. You were so thankful that you had premade your oats and coffee the day before, you were running a bit later than you anticipated.

Quickly sliding into your car you backed out of the short driveway and made your 15 minute commute to the new job that you were hoping would be the big break you were needing in life. The drive to the office was beautiful. The Pamlico sound on one side of the two lane highway and the ocean crashing on the other. You were amazed that this tiny sliver of an island had made it this long and had gained the attention that it had. You thought back to a childhood vacation you had years ago, when a hurricane had come through and flooded the area. The ocean had come across the sliver of island and washed out the highway between Hatteras and Nags Head. The highway was completely underwater and broken up. The residents to the south of the island had to be ferried in tiny boats back and forth for groceries and supplies for months. It was wild that anyone would choose to reside here, but then again, here you were.

You pulled your car into the parking lot of the small building, adorned with plain black letters Hatteras Island Newspaper. A smile crept across your face, this all still not feeling real. You took a few deep breaths and made your way into the building.

You immediately noticed the musky smell of the main room that was wall to wall in 70s wood paneling. The carpet probably hadn't been changed since it was built and was a dark burgundy color. The sudden sound of the glass door shutting behind you caught the attention of the young woman sitting behind the large wooden desk to the right of the room. Across from her desk, the wall was lined with chairs you would think would be more suited for a doctors office. Above the chairs, the wall was lined with framed front pages that had large pictures of Cape Hatteras Lighthouse being moved from its original spot and aerial pictures of Highway 12 when it had washed out due to the hurricane.

"Hello! Can I help you?" The red head spoke up. Your eyes darted towards her and you tried to smile, hiding the grimace you knew you hadn't hidden well. Clearing your throat, you made your way to her and leaned against the tall desk that up came just to your waist. "Hi! I'm Y/N, I was hired as a temp and I start today."

You felt your legs begin to tremble when the nerves finally sat in. You hadn't let yourself feel the nerves, you tried to talk yourself full of confidence but your facade was slowly fading away as you stood in the entrance to the building that you were hoping would change the course of your life.

"It's so nice to meet you! I'm glad you're here, I'll take you back so you can meet everyone and find your spot." She cheered as she walked from around the desk and to the hallway towards the back. "I'm Nora by the way." She spoke over her shoulder as you followed her through the building. The hallways felt like a labyrinth with the way they all turned and met together. Walking further and further into the depths, you peaked in open doors as you walked by. Some had large desks and there were a few with multiple artists like desks lining the walls. You walked past what you assumed to be the meeting room, where a large glossy table sat in the center with at least a dozen rolling chairs pushed in under it. You almost bulldozed Nora when she came to an abrupt stop in the hallway at an open door. She held her hand out, ushering you inside. You peaked around the corner and found an older man sitting at his desk. His graying hair and long beard made him look like he should be the captain of a ship instead of working for the newspaper.

"This is Y/N Mr. Mauney, she's our new temp here for her first day." She chirped at him. You forged a smile, willing your thoughts to catch up with you. Following Nora and making your way to the front of his desk, you held your hand out to greet him. Mr. Mauney glanced at you over the top of his nose and continued reading the manuscripts he had laid out over his desk. "Hi Y/N, welcome. I hope you'll find your time with us worth while." You slowly retracted your hand when you realized he was making no effort to formally meet you. "Oh, thank you. I'm very excited to be here!" You tried to sound cheery, but the picture you had painted in your mind of a rosy and welcoming environment was slowly fading.

Nora could sense your sudden nervousness and cleared her throat, "Alright Y/N, I'll show you to your desk." She made her way back to the hallway and led you down a couple more doors. She walked into a small office space, still lined with old wood paneling and the same burgundy carpet. You noticed the large window in the center of the back wall and tried to find that a positive, at least there would be a connection to the outside world. "This will be your office, we have a few desks in storage that you can pick from and we'll have it moved in for you. You can bring in anything to decorate if you'd like and we'll get you a computer set up today. It will be your personal so feel free to take it home with you every night, you might need it." She spun around on her heels and made her way back to the hallway. Turning back to you, she sighed and folded her hands in front of her. "Please don't take Mr. Mauney as too rude, he has his moments. He really is a kind soul but" she paused, her face showed that she was thinking hard about her next few words, "he has been here since he was 18, his father also ran the newspaper. He didn't exactly have an easy life, so he's a bit rough around the edges." She tried to reassure you. "I'll go find maintenance so they can get you a desk." With a tight close lipped smile, she disappeared down the hallway, leaving you alone in the empty room that you swore had to have been a closet in past years.

You met with maintenance and picked out your desk, it was the best one out of the few they had available but was still not something you'd prefer, it would have to do. They set up your computer for you and the connected the phone in your office.

You sat down at your desk and ran your hands over the weathered wood. You could tell it had been used, maybe overly used and was needing retirement. You clicked around your computer and made tiny boxes on the home screen, disassociating from the overwhelm of all the new information you had learned. You hadn't seen the building before walking in, you hadn't even googled it before coming in. The newspaper had sent a job ad to your department at school and as soon as you realized it was for Hatteras, you immediately replied. You spoke with a lady from the newspaper on the phone two months ago who didn't ask many questions about your experience or even details about yourself. She wasn't very thorough in explaining the position with you and had offered you the job after the 10 minute phone call. You found it a bit strange, even the interviews for the waitressing jobs you had in college had been more intense. You accepted without a second thought, this was finally your way out of your small home town. You wouldn't have to return to live with your parents and maybe you could find your footing as a real adult after college. After all, it lead you to your favorite place.

At the end of your shift, you thanked Nora for all her help and wished her a great night. She returned the pleasantries with a large smile and a small wave. You hoped she was someone you could trust. She was your age and seemed nice enough.

Walking up the stairs to your deck, all you wanted to do was eat and go to bed. You looked up to the little cottage you called home and sighed. Was anything going to go your way for just once? Entering the front door, you sluggishly sat down on the stairs to your right. Your head fell over your crossed arms on your lap and you hoped the tears wouldn't fall. The warm tear trickled down your cheek and you wiped it away with your cardigan sleeve. You let out a loud sigh and just stared at the wall in front of you that you had hung the cute mushroom and flower painting on. You focused on each color that the artist had chosen. The tiny dots that lined the top of the dark red mushrooms and the small frog that you hadn't noticed before, just sitting underneath the foliage.

You were about to stand up to find something to throw together for dinner when your shoulder blade turned ice cold. There was a light pressure with the sensation and the goosebumps once again returned down your spine. You sucked in a sharp breath as you realized it was a hand on your back. "Please don't touch me, just leave me alone." It's all you could think to say. You didn't want to put up a fight tonight, you didn't have the energy for the nonsense after today. You really couldn't even find a care for what just happened, you just knew you didn't want it to happen again. You swiftly stood up from the step and walked towards the kitchen, you didn't want to look behind you to possibly see the entity that was behind you. You had come to the realization that you were stuck here, at least for the next three months, so you decided to stay out of its way if they stayed out of yours. It didn’t seem malicious, maybe just a residual soul stuck here; you had landed on coexisting if it could too.

Jake's POV

You've done it again, you idiot. Why do you keep doing this?! You didn't meant to scare her. You'd actually made her mad. Why did you touch her?

You had heard her come in the door and when you had made the corner at the top of the stairs, you saw her sitting on the bottom step breathing heavy. You knew she was crying and it hurt your heart to see her upset. You knew you shouldn’t have, you just wanted to comfort her. You should have just returned back to your room to mind your own business. As soon as your hand touched her back, she jolted forward. You fucked up. You could hear the rage in her voice when she told you to stop, to leave her alone.

Can I come back from this? Will I actually be able to get through to her? How? You were angry. Angry at yourself, angry that you were even in this position. Why couldn't things have just worked out. Why does It have to be this way?

You sat quietly on your wooden chair in your room and found comfort in the only thing that has remained the same the last million years. The sea had a calming effect on your mind. It was almost hypnotizing to watch each wave crash over and over again, each swell being slightly different than the next.

Then the thought hit you. You peered down at the typewriter sitting in front of you and hoped that this last resort effort could finally close the brick wall that had been built between the two of you.

Tags: @lipstickitty,@writingcold, @peaceloveunitygvf

#gvf #greta van fleet #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka #jake kiszka fic

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