*he was a nice guy, wasn’t he? jack was quiet, he hadn’t risen his voice, hadn’t sworn, or come off as boisterous or even boastful of his art. just how had his parents raised him to be like this, and yet still remain so quiet, so shy and had such a low self esteem? it didn’t seem fair, but he…seemed happy. he felt happy, right now, with her sitting besides him.
she made his heart do funny things. his stomach became knots. his voice fell from his lips sometimes and he wanted so much to say nicer things, but every compliment he gives her makes her blush and go quiet. maybe he should try some of that romantic stuff from movies. he’d seen enough of them? but was that too forward? he hadn’t known her a week. but that’s how some people work…*
oh there’s an empty place in my bones
that calls out for something unknown
the fame and praise come year after year
does nothing for these empty tears…
*he didn’t mean to, really, but he sung along with his name sake on the screen as the skeleton slumped into the trees, away from the grave and pumpkin patch. he sighed afterwards, watching as sally gathered the things from the two graves*
…thank you for coming to see me on my birthday…
Not quite asleep, she snuggles against him a bit more, head tucked in his neck. “…you’re welcome..” she sighs out, this time falling asleep against him, not even realizing she was.
*he took her mug from her, less she hurt herself, and set it on the floor. carefully he pulled the blanket closer around her before easing back into the beanbag. she was resting her head on his chest now, and he was worried how his heart rate wasn’t waking her up. but he let her sleep. he let her, pretending for a moment that she was… was his girlfriend, that this was normal, and the rapid heart beating stopped for a while as he watched his movie*
Jack Maple 