irene barging into the bedroom: JACKSON. JIA'ER. WANG.
jackson looking up from his phone with a smile: hey noona! what's wrong, want more cuddles?~ did you not have enough this mor—
irene: am i a joke to you or what?
jackson: wha— why?? did something happen?
irene quickly climbing the bed to pin him down: i will say it and repeat it until you confess; WHERE. IS. MY three deluxe green matcha mousse cake WITH FROZEN BERRIES ON TOP!?
jackson: goo-good question... but i don't really think i know what you're talking about...—
irene: listen here you little sh-... crap. yesterday night i walked through the door with two boxes; one had the tiramisu, which is YOUR favourite, and the other had MY precious cake. so now that your memory's been refreshed, WHERE IS MY CAKE?!
jackson avoiding eye contact:
irene: jackson, you know how long i've been dreaming about this cake—
jackson: you... didn't...— specify which cake was... whose.
irene:
jackson sitting up against the headboard: noona, i'm really sorry! yesterday i had a crazy day and i wasn't thinking straight! i came back home late and hungry and just ate the first thing—
irene standing up: alright...
jackson: what—
irene: watch how i'll burn all the cheese in the house
jackson: WHAT?! YOU CAN'T DO THAT—
irene: trust me boy. yes i can... you've just started a war.
YOU ARE READING
Incorrect Jackrene
Short Storyjust a bunch of very short ideas I think about but never commit to write because i'm a lazy ass...
