synopsis while moving in, you encounter a box you swore you would avoid
You let out a huff of exhaustion before bending down you open another box. You and your boyfriend, Drew, were halfway through them thankfully. You don’t understand why he didn’t let the moving people help more, something about you two spending more quality time together or something. In the end, you didn’t mind as much. It was nice to see your things again and it felt even better to arrange them to your liking.
Though, with this box you wished you had checked the labeling before pulling the flaps aside. You gasped audibly at the sight of the memorabilia that sat inside. It was Jackson’s box. The box you could’ve sworn you told Drew to take. But now you had it.
You sighed, finding your way to the wood floor of your new bedroom. Pulling the box closer to you and peering inside. An immediate smile found your face when you saw all the framed pictures of either him or you both. Out of habit, your hand reached inside for your favorite framed one of them all.
It was the last picture you two had taken together. You held it close to your heart.
While becoming mesmerized with it, you dusted some of the lint from off of the glass. Your thumb finding its way to rubbing over Jackson’s face was he gazed down at you. That dopey grin he always wore when he was happy plastered across his face. It started to turn your own fond smile downwards.
You missed him. And his dopey smile, and the laughter that soon came with that smile, and his warm hugs, his caring words were something you missed most of all. It made you sad all over again knowing you’d never get any of those things ever again. And it wasn’t just because you were with Drew now.
You sniffled before reaching into the box again. The frown on your face deepening when your fingers grazed the last “gift” Jackson had ever given you. It was a letter. And also the last few words he ever said to you. Drew made you pack it, while you argued throwing it away. It made you too distraught. But you still found yourself fishing it out and placing your favorite picture of you two aside.
‘To my love, ’ it read. Your lips were already quivering before you could even pull the actual letter out. With a sharp inhale, you did. You let out a small breath of laughter at the tear stains you had left on it around six months ago. The first and last time you had read it. Well, until now.
It took a couple of minutes before you fully got enough courage to let your eyes glaze across his neat handwriting and meaningful words. Every word made your heart beat faster, it felt like he was reading it to you himself. And that made you stop halfway through. And the fact you were getting fresh tears on the paper.
“___-” Drew came barging into your guy’s room but halted when he saw you in tears at the foot of the bed. He quickly noticed Jackson’s box and cursed under is breathe for leaving it in here with you.
“Hey, hey, I’m here,” he came to your side immeadiately and draped his arm around you. Gingerly removing the letter from your hands like it was some priceless artifact. You leaned into his shoulder for comfort.
Silence filled the room as your sobs started to subside and all that really came out of you were sniffles. “I’m sorry for not taking his box with me,” he apologized.
“It’s okay,” you cleared your throat and started to put away Jackson’s stuff.
“I can’t compete with him, can I?” Drew said all of a sudden. You laughed.
“I don’t think so.” You said softly, silently saying goodbye to Jackson as you closed his box back up.
warningsreader is afraid of the dark ( really that’s it )
genrefluff
word count 0.5k
inspirationn/a
synopsis jackson finally learns of your darkest fear, the dark.
author’s note disclaimer! to be clear i stopped writing for kpop this september. but my main writing outlet was wattpad where i have dozens pieces written. i decided the least i could do for you guys here is post my favorites! this being one of them, enjoy and thank you for everything!
Startled was an understatement to the feeling Jackson had experienced when he shifted in bed to see your eyes piercing into his through the dim light of your room. A weak giggle left you before you sat up in bed. Jackson recollected himself quickly and tried to bring you back down but you refused, having something you needed to do.
“C'mon, ___-”
“Can you turn the light back on?” You interrupted his whines, saying your request quietly out of sheer embarrassment.
It was dark but you could still see Jackson’s face scrunch in confusion. “Why? Is there something wrong?”
In your eyes, yes. Usually you tell everything about you. With your relationship already passing the one year mark, you both practically knew everything about each other. But there was just one thing you refused to tell him. And since there was never an instance where you had to, you just hid it away. But you were scared of the dark. Ever since you were young the dark was your biggest fear.
Now, that instance has come around, unfortunately.
“Uh,” You paused, trying to think of something that could deflect the fact you were afraid of the dark.
But your lie took to long because a lightbulb looked as if it had gone off overtop of Jackson’s head. “Baby, are you afraid of the dark?” A small, teasing laugh following behind his question.
“Me? Afraid of the dark? Pfft,” You shook your head while flipping the covers off of your legs. “Now, why would I be afraid of the dark?”
Jackson sat up onto his elbows. “Okay, so you go turn on the light,” he pushed against your back gently.
You scoffed, fear crawling up your back. “I-I was just about to do that,” You said matter of factly.
“Sure,” He retorted.
You two sat in silence as the angel and the devil on your shoulder argued whether getting up to turn on the light was a good idea. There was this childish thought that someone- or something would just creep out of from the closet and snatch you. It was that fear that was keeping you planted onto the bed.
Jackson’s infamous laugh filled the room. “___, I thought you weren’t afraid of the dark?” He sneered, obviously enjoying this.
You inhaled deeply. “I’m not,” your feet landed on the carpet for a matter of seconds before you hurried to sit back down.
Jackson continued to laugh at you as you got yourself comfortable in bed again. You frowned, “Fine,” You huffed in defeat.
“I’m scared of the dark, happy?” You hit his shoulder. His laughing subsided and Jackson sat up completely.
“That’s all you had to say in the first place,” Jackson simply got out of bed to turn on the light that lit up the whole room.
You muttered a thank you quietly. “In return, I think I deserve some cuddles,"Jackson climbed back into bed and opened his arms wide to accommodate you. You smiled and shuffled over to have his arms wrapped around you.
"This is so embarrassing,” You scoffed.
Jackson laughed into your neck. “It’s cute. And if your fear of the dark means I get to cuddle you every night then I think it’s a win.”
➟warnings: Please don’t do any further if you’re not old enough!
A little insecurity about body image. Jackson is a sex god that helps his shy friend learn to satisfy his girlfriend. And there is badly written smut :)
You barged into the apartment and slammed the door shut. Jay B eyed you as you huffed.
“Where is Jackson,” you demanded. Jay B pointed to Jackson’s room and turned his attention back to his book. You stormed past him and down the hall to the closed door. You swung the door open without knocking. Throwing yourself on his bed with extra dramatic flair, you groaned into the pillow.
I absolutely love this! I could write a 12 page essay on the benefits of being their gf and the wonders more stories like this–with them–would do for depression and stress. Like I am SHOOK and filled with love and adoration. I’m gonna cry. I swear on everything I own I will go nuts if I don’t find more jackjae x reader.
The men had tailed you for at least two blocks. You could feel their stares as you slipped through the bustling city. No matter the crowd or your tactic, they would reappear in a few paces. Your heart quickened with panic as the busyness began to thin. Soon the streets would be empty save for your pursuers. You needed to think of a plan and do it quickly.
Your feet sped up and you spun around passersby, trying your best to gain distance. You slipped your phone from your purse, settling the strap across your body and fumbling with the fasteners. Running was becoming your best option. You slipped around a group of teens stretched in a line across the street and took off. The footsteps behind you shuffled, knocking bodies aside before giving chase. By the sound of it, there were more people following than you first perceived. There was no way you could take them all. Your eyes swung wildly, searching for a way out. You turned a sharp corner and picked up speed. The footsteps were louder now, traveling through the darkness. Another turn. Then one more. You found yourself on a nearly empty stretch of stores. You slid through the door of a boutique and crouched behind a display to catch your breath. The attendant peered at you from behind the counter, eyebrow raised. You smiled and pretended to look at the merchandise, picking up a blue leather clutch and turning it in your hand.
Your eyes flicked up to the glass, glancing at your followers that were now combing the street. The name of the first person you could think of to call flew from your fingertips onto your phone screen while you continued to watch the large window. You brought the phone to your ear, trying to listen above the noise your heartbeat made. One ring. Two rings. Three rings. You felt yourself go cold with the thought that he wouldn’t pick up and began to look around the store, eyes settling on a glowing red exit sign.
“Hey baobei. What’s up? I thought you were shopping downtown today for that dress you wanted…” Your boyfriend’s cheerful voice rang through the speaker. You watched as a man in a black suit peered through the glass, studying the store and its blank-faced attendant. You let the bag slip from your fingers and froze. “Jackson,” you whispered, interrupting his happy ramblings, “help me.” The line went silent for a moment before movement was heard. “I have your location. Stay on the phone. How many are there?” You could tell he was running around your shared apartment by the heavy puff of air that left with each word. “I don’t know. Too many.” The man turned his back to the store. You slowly began to back yourself towards the exit, staying low to the ground and keeping your eyes on the street.
“Damn it y/n! I’m coming with the boys. Don’t you darehang up this phone.” He was yelling now. You could imagine his furrowed brow as he gathered whoever was home and made his way to your rescue. “Hurry.” You breathed into the mic as the attendant shifted her gaze to stare at your crouching position on the floor. “Ma'am?” She asked in a far too loud voice. You hurriedly shushed the attendant. “Is everything alright ma'am?” You shushed the clueless woman again, eyes fixing on the man outside. “I need you to look at your counter. Don’t speak to me, don’t look at me. Pretend I’m not here.” The attendant followed your stare to the man who stood outside. She sighed. “Ma'am, if you aren’t going to buy anything you should leave.” The man shifted. Your eyes widened. “Shut up. Please. They can’t know I’m here.” “Should I call-” “No! Just be quiet! Sit still. Stop looking at me and be quiet.” Silence filled the store. The man glanced over his shoulder at the attendant who stared at her folded hands, cheeks heated. He raised an eyebrow and turned his head again to study her. Damn it. He had to have known. The attendant was too obvious. He had to have known.
He turned away again. “Honestly ma'am, I can call-” you had lost patience with the attendant’s meddling, though now her words were whispers. “Quit your blabbering or I swear if I live through tonight I will come back here and choke you to death with a handbag.” You glared at the woman to complete your threat, attempting to scare her into silence. The attendant clamped her lips together, eyes welling up and face on fire. You swung your eyes back to the man, only to find him squinting in your direction. You held your breath - maybe he couldn’t see you. He stared for what felt like forever before looking up at the attendant. Damn this woman. She met his gaze for a second before staring back at her counter. He continued to burn a hole into her skull before taking a step towards the door.
She flinched at the sudden movement and glanced at you. “Eyes. On. The. Counter.” Your words were hard whispers. His stare carefully searched the store.. “If he comes in here, act normal. If he sees me and I … do something, don’t move a muscle or make a sound. Your eyes are glued to that countertop and your lips stay shut. Blink twice to say you understand.” You glanced at her for confirmation before returning to stalk the man. He stood just outside the door.
“Jackson,” You unzipped your purse, quickly ripping out the knives and tiny revolver hidden in its lining. “Hm? I’m coming. I hear you.” His rough voice was farther away, meaning he was driving now. “I’m gonna have to take one out. I don’t know what will happen,” you shuffled to conceal the weapons on your person - gun in your waistband, one knife in your shoe, another tucked into your hair tie that held up your messy ponytail. “There’s glass and an annoying woman here,” You glared up at her while shoving a switchblade down your shirt. “I will probably be seen.” You could tell he was speeding by the silent focus you felt on the other side of the line. “Jackson, I love you.” You pushed your last throwing knife into the front pocket of your jeans and continued to watch the door, fingers rubbing the golden band that sat on your left hand. You tucked your body behind a display, out of sight of the counter. “I love you. I’m coming. Wait for me and don’t hang-”
The door swung open and the man stepped in. You slid the phone from your ear, listening to his footsteps. “Good evening miss,” he watched the attendant before lightly grazing the floor with his gaze. The woman was finally listening to instructions. “Is everything alright in here?” He stared her down. “You look distressed. Is there any way I can help?” She fidgeted. No, you thought at her. Don’t do it, he’s just trying to make you break.
“I…”Damn it. You reached into your back pocket for a throwing knife. “Yes, miss?” He placed a hand on her folded ones. She glanced over at your hiding place. Damn it. “Well,” her voice caught. “Do you mind if I look around? Just to be sure everything is alright. It isn’t safe for shopkeepers so late at night.” He coated his words in sugar, luring the woman into his trap. The false sense of security loosened her lips. “She…” Damn it. “She?” He repeated. Her doe-eyes met the man’s gaze. You could almost hear the trap snap shut. She whispered, just loud enough so he could hear, “she has a gun."
You slid from your spot, knocking the man off his feet and ripping your knife into his legs to limit his mobility. He kicked at you, struggling against the pain. You quickly crawled up his body, dragging your knife with you and used your body weight to pin down his arms. "What did I tell you?” You covered the man’s mouth with your hand and tore into his throat with your blade. His screams, which became gurgles, were muffled by your palm. The woman sucked in a breath. “Scream and you’re next.” You met her eyes and sighed. “You need to learn to listen better. If you would have been quiet, I probably could’ve just knocked him out and been on my merry way.” You tipped your head at the twitching man, emphasizing your point.
“Turn around and put your hands on the wall.” The woman whimpered and complied. “I can’t trust you not to get me caught so just sit still for a moment.” Once the man’s gurgling and twitching stopped, you stood, wiping the blood from your knife and fingers on his suit jacket. She was crying now. You rolled your eyes, scoffing. “Honestly. I’m not actually going to kill you.” You moved your cross-body purse over your head and slid it from your shoulder, gripping the strap. “Now, do you know how to do a push-up?"
She looked confused, but no less afraid, as she nodded. "Good. Let’s pretend we’re doing push-ups. Put both hands on the wall, feet shoulder width apart. And down…” Her body moved towards the wall and back as her arms bent awkwardly. “Well done. Now two.” Her elbows bowed again. “Three.” You pressed your body against the counter, quietly sliding on its surface. “Four.” You reached your arms out, torso stretched over the counter. “Five.” She bent once more. As she straightened her arms, you swung the purse strap around her neck. Her legs caught her before she could fall into the counter. You gripped tighter, watching her struggle and scratch at your hands. “Shhh now,” you pulled her closer by the neck and wrapped a hand around her face to cut off her airway. Her teeth gnashed at your skin as she choked on her saliva. In seconds, the poor woman went limp, tear-stains marking her cheeks.
You hopped over the counter to lay her body on the ground, then disconnected the store phone and hid her cell. That would only hold her for a few moments. You dragged the man to the back of the store by his heels and dropped him out of sight of the counter. You removed his jacket and wiped at the blood trail that led to your hiding place with the dark cloth. Then you jogged back to your victim and searched his body for weapons. Despite your efforts to keep his death quiet, his colleagues were bound to notice a man missing and come back for him. You had to move faster, especially for when sleeping beauty came to.
You heard shouting from across the street. Your stalkers had returned. The voices moved past the store. They were loud and upset, but not distressed - they hadn’t noticed the missing man yet. Your mind ran through your options. You picked up the phone, looking to see the screen still green with the phone call that never ended. It had been almost 10 minutes since you called him.
You decided to sit and wait for Jackson as you put the phone back to your ear. He was whispering curses, still driving to save you. You breathed a laugh, imagining the men in the car gripping onto the seats and handles in the vehicle to gain a semblance of security while your boyfriend endangered their lives with his reckless driving.
“Hello? Y/n? Are you there?” He jumped at the sound of your breathing. You opened your mouth to speak, then settled for a hum as a response when you heard shuffling from behind the counter. He sighed in relief. “We’re almost there. Just wait for me. Hold on, baobei.” You could feel the tension in his voice still. You knew he hated that he wasn’t at your side yet. It was taking too long for his taste. He never liked being out of control when it came to your safety. You hummed another response.
The voices returned. You sat back on your heels to be sure you were out of sight. Just hold on, you thought to yourself. Jackson would be here soon. The woman’s quiet cries echoed through the store, snatching your attention from the window. She was really trying to get you killed, poor thing. There was silence on the street as her sniffles grew to hiccuping, then to hysterical wailing. You rolled your eyes. She really will get you killed. They could probably hear her from across the city. Damn this woman. You listened and waited, crouched and ready to move for the door. There had to have been at least four of them and if they all entered the store, you wouldn’t be able to take them all. The corpse only had a gun and a knife on him, but you couldn’t guess how prepared the others would be. Your best option would be to run.
You slowly moved for the exit, placing your back on the wall nearest to the door and turning your eyes back to the street. The woman’s sobbing never ceased and you almost felt sympathetic, but the reminder that her crying was making you vulnerable to attack killed any feelings you had for her. “Baobei? Is that crying? Are you hurt?” Jackson must’ve been able to hear the hysteria occurring across the store. You sighed. “I’m not crying. It’s the attendant.” You whispered, holding the phone to your lips to be heard over her wails.
A handful of men and women in black walked up to the glass, peering in. You stared at them wishing they would keep walking. The door swung open and five pairs of shiny black shoes stepped inside the store. They gathered around the counter. One of the women struck up a conversation with the endless fountain of tears that sat curled in the corner. The other four looked around the store, heads turning, but bodies unmoving.
“Ma'am, are you alright?” Her question was met with incoherent blubbering. “Slow down. What happened?” She tried again. A series of hiccups and sniffles left the attendant as she tried to collect herself. Almost in unison, a chorus of sighs and rolling eyes passed around the group. One of the men left his post beside the counter and began to take interest in a rack of pastel wallets. He moved around it, slowly observing every inch. You cowered further into the wall. “Th- there was a hicahicwo-sniff-man.” The attendant went back to crying. The group exchanged glances.
The man’s eyes flitted across the back of the store. You held your breath, waiting for a sign that you’d been seen. He paused before turning to another rack of bags just a few feet away. One of his colleagues made eye contact. The man continued to look through the bags, one thumb hooked into his belt loop. Almost like a signal went off, your other followers shuffled around, looking at each other then returning to normal. You shifted, feeling uneasy in the newly tense room. They slowly moved their hands into their pockets while the man nearest to you slid one palm beneath his jacket.
Shit.
You were out the door before he could draw his weapon.
The exit led to a dimly lit alley. You pushed your legs to go as fast as they could, knees crying at the hard impact of your feet on the ground. Get out. Your brain frantically screamed everything you learned as a child in the mafia. Open areas are better than enclosed spaces. You ran harder, trying so hard to focus on your shoes meeting concrete.Tight spaces - small rooms, hallways, alleyways - make you an easy target. Ignoring the complaints of your lungs, you pumped your legs ever faster. All you had to do was outrun them. Just outrun them. Outrun them. Outrun -
Bang.
A sudden shockwave of pain in your torso made your steps stutter. Your running was slower now. Still you chanted: Just outrun them. Outrun them. Outrun them.
You heard someone grunt from behind you. A mass collided with your back - then you were falling. Panic set in. You landed on your elbows, quickly trying to turn to face your attacker. Your legs kicked erratically at the man who was still attached to your body. Anxious noises left your lips as the fear and adrenaline gripped your throat. His nose met with your knee, slamming his skull into the wall, and you were freed from his grasp. You scurried backwards, elbows and hands burning as cuts and scrapes appeared on the skin.
Two of the man’s colleagues came to join him. A woman lifted the man to his feet; the other man brandished a knife. He was on you in a heartbeat. You cried out as your back slammed into the ground. Your arms moved to hold back his weapon. When you gained an inch of distance between the knife and your body, you pushed with all your strength and sank your fingernails into his face. The man screeched and reeled back, giving you time to pull the small knife from your hair, snapping the band and releasing your hair to fall haphazardly.
The man grasped your leg, squinting down at you. He kneeled on your calf, planting one knee firmly on your own, and pushed his body weight into your joint. Your back once again hit the ground with the new pain. You lifted an arm to toss the knife at the man, but the woman came from behind him and firmly placed a foot on your wrist, halting your movement. Your fingers twirled the blade around and sliced at her shoe. You could feel her toes shift in her shiny, black loafers. She turned her attention to her teammates. Once her eyes fully left your figure, you switched your grip on the blade and slammed into her shoe with as much force that you could muster. “Shit!” She screamed, reflexes forcing her foot off your arm. You placed your elbows on the concrete, digging in so you could gain leverage on the man who still clutched his face atop your leg. You tried to shake him off, kicking at him with your free heel. “You’re done, bitch.” A click reached your ears. You snapped your head up, eyes wide, to see the woman pointing a pistol at you.
Bang. Bang.
She fell against the wall before sinking to the ground. Your eyes flicked over to your now-shocked assailant. You kicked him once more with all your strength then sat up fully and grasped the gun that pressed into your back. With two shots, he slumped over, dead. Still high on adrenaline, your neck twisted to look behind you at whoever shot the woman. A sigh of relief left your lips and you let your body relax as you saw Jackson’s familiar figure running from the other end of the alley. His worried voice reached your ears and you wanted to cry from the sheer comfort it brought you.
“Y/n! Y/n!” He clumsily fell beside you, hands shaking your shoulder. “Hm?” You blinked up at him. “Are you okay?” You felt his fingers skimming your body, gentle but frantic. You let out a tired laugh. “Just a few scratches. Nothing too-” “Oh my god! Is that a bullet wound? Did you get shot? Who shot you? Where are they?” A million questions rushed past his lips and flew at you in one long, barely understandable string. “Babe,” you interrupted his queries. “Can we go please?” The adrenaline was replaced by exhaustion and you were beginning to fully feel the pain of your many injuries. “Oh! Yes, of course baobei. Let’s get you some help.” Your sweet boyfriend shoved the dead man’s body aside and stared down at you. “Can you stand?”
You could only blink in answer, internalizing the question. Couldyou stand? You tested your uninjured leg feeling no resistance when you bent it. Now the other one. You visibly winced and let out a pained squeak. Jackson was back to speaking faster than you could comprehend. “Okay, okay, okay. Stop, stop. Don’t move y/n. I’ll help. Hold on. Don’t move.” He moved behind you and gently pushed your torso up into a sitting position. The pain of your gunshot wound moved through you in waves. Jackson’s words became a series of noises that increased in volume as he realized the movement was hurting you. “Okay baobei. We’re gonna get you up on your good leg. Just let me do it. I’ll hold you up, okay? Don’t try to move a lot.” His hands moved to grip beneath your arms, pulling your body up. You groaned, eyes shutting as you were placed on your feet, Jackson’s hands moving to keep you upright. You heavily leaned on your boyfriend, panting slightly. “Good job baobei. You’re bearing it so well. I love you so much. We’ll be home soon.” You breathed in the familiar scent of the love of your life and smiled.
“That’s the last of them.” One of Jackson’s men, Mark, walked towards you and Jackson from the direction of the store, thumb coming up to swipe at the blood on his face. Jackson’s tone was ice cold, cutting through the night. “Are there any who are still alive?” Another one of Jackson’s men, Jaebum, dragged a man by the collar as he made his way over. You recognized him from the bleeding nose as the first man who attacked you in the alley. “Just this one,” Jaebum shook the man’s collar to punctuate his sentence. “There’s one more inside, but Jinyoung is playing with him. He’ll be dead soon.” Bambam called from the backdoor of the store.
Jackson glared at the dazed and bloody man who struggled in Jaebum’s grasp. “Bring this one home and lock him up. I’ll talk to him later.” Jaebum nodded and dragged the man back down the alley. Jackson’s eyes moved back to you, softening immediately. “Ready to take a step?” His fingers tightened around your waist. You nodded in response and allowed him to lead you forward. Your small hop didn’t match his stride and you slipped, forcing Jackson to save you from falling. When your boyfriend managed to get you back to standing, he thoughtfully rubbed circles into your side with his thumb and peered down at you. “This won’t work, huh?” You shook your head, exhaling in a laugh. “Then there’s only one thing left to do.” You cocked an eyebrow at your boyfriend. “Just breathe okay? It’ll probably hurt at first.” His words made you more concerned. “Jackson, wha-”
He slid his arm further around your waist and gripped tightly. Then he carefully bent and hooked his other elbow behind your knees, sweeping you off your feet. You gripped at his shoulders in surprise before settling into his arms. You clutched onto his shirt and let Jackson carry you from the alley. His warmth soaked through your clothes and into your soul. You knew you were safe with him and allowed your eyes to close, simply feeling the gentle sway of Jackson’s steps.
“Yah!” Youngjae yelled from the store. “I found your purse, y/n!”
•summary:love at first sight with jackson •pairing: jackson wang x male!reader •word count: 383 •to do
You hum softly. The sound bounces through the cramped bar. It echoes and resonates deep in Jackson’s soul. He sighs.
He’s becoming drawn in by your words. He’s hanging on every word but soon finds himself unable to understand the lyrics you sing. All he can hear is the piano your fingers dance across. Your presence is alluring. He floats closer until he’s standing at the edge of the stage. White lights shine in your eyes, obscuring anything more than a foot in front of you.
Jackson sits down at a table closer to your stage. He slides down in the chair. He’s enraptured by your movements. All of his thoughts disappear before you. Whatever you’re singing speaks to him at a profound level. His heart rate picks up and slows down illogically. People around him show more interest in their food and drinks than they show in you, but Jackson couldn’t be more different. Jackson thinks you finish the song much too soon. Even as you walk across the stage away from him and descend down the stairs, he can’t take his eyes off you. You’re angelic in every sense of the word.
Effortless smiles grace your face as you pass the crowd. Some compliment your playing. Others your voice. But to Jackson’s surprise, no one mentions you a as a whole. He doesn’t know anything about your personality but he can feel how good of a person you are. Maybe it’s because he can see you apologize to someone for bumping into you. Or maybe it’s because some divine force tells him it’s so.
You stop at the bar. You nod at the bartender ad he begins to make a drink without any other words. Jackson doesn’t know what comes over him. Something about you makes him feel shy. Even despite those feelings he moves over to you. His mind retreats further back with every step you take.
Soon he’s leaning up against the bar next to you. You glance at him. He can’t decipher what it is but something behind your eyes lights a fire within him. He’s never been one to flirt at a bar-side but figures he could give it a chance with what every particle in his being is telling him is love at first sight.
