*he moves over to the beanbag and sits down besides her carefully as he grabs the blankets and tugs one over their laps; Roxy is thus covered and the pug wuffs and fusses before she pops her head out and lays there still, in katelynn’s lap, quite content*
it. it’s probably not that big a surprise…
*it can’t really be, at least when the opening tunes of a nightmare before christmas begins to play over the tv*
“Oh!” She exclaims, leaning forward a bit. “That’s my favorite movie!”
She hardly notices their hips touching as she’s too busy singing along to the opening, knowing the lyrics by heart. As she sings, she begins to cuddle back against the beanbag, her arm brushing against his.
it’s one of mine too. and n-not just because the main character has my name.
*she may not notice. he, unfortunately, does. he’s never sat this close to somebody, especially on a bean bag, before besides his mother who he used to lounge on one with all the time back home as he was growing up. or when his father would play that silly game where he’d hold him in his arms, and not let him go when he asked. yet when he stopped asking, he’d lift his arms and the second young jack would try to get away he’d hold him again. all silly fun for an eight year old, of course. but he forces these memories, and thoughts, aside as he sings along with her*
Jack Maple 