New Perspective ~ A Handsome Jack x Reader Story

Chapter Twenty Three ~ Prying Conversations

          "Jack, what the hell?!"

          Your eyes are glued on Jack as he's doubled over in front of you, clearly suffering from the blow of your elbow to his stomach. Finally, he threw his head up to look at you, trying to straighten his back out. "W-What?" He asked defensively. From this angle you got a good look at the side of his face, where you punched him. There was a new dent in Timothy's cracked mask from when you punched him - you could tell that underneath, there was definitely a mark of some kind. Yikes, you'd have to apologize to Timothy for the mask...

          "I nearly got killed, jackass!" Pushing the mask aside, you allowed yourself to be upset, shouting angrily while simultaneously shaking your pistol at him. For a moment, you could've sworn that his eyes shone with a glint of genuine worry. However, that was gone as fast as it appeared, replaced with calmness as he gave you a once over with his eyes. 

          "Well, you seem fine now," Jack hummed, pushing himself to stand up straight. 

          "Yeah, no thanks to you! Asshole!" You huffed, shoving your pistol back into its holster. Grumbling, you sat yourself back down onto the sand. Finding yourself in criss-cross position, you leaned against your right hand, your malfunctioning cybernetic resting in your lap. This made Jack raise an eyebrow as he watched your left arm suspiciously. He sat himself down across from you, his eyes pinned on your left arm.

          "Why aren't you using your cybernetic?" He questioned you, leaning over slightly. On instinct you edged the other way, your eyebrows raising at his question.

          "What? Oh, um, no reason," you began to lie, "just feel like using flesh and blood more is all." As you fabricated your story, Jack inched even closer to you and reached out to your arm. Since it wasn't connected right and, therefore, not working right, you couldn't quite pull it away as quick as you would've liked, which resulted in him easily grabbing it. "Hey-!"

          He moved the mechanical arm in his hands with ease, instantly realizing something was wrong with it. "Are you kidding me? You JUST got this!" Jack exclaimed, annoyance seeping into his voice. Your jaw dropped. He's annoyed? 

          "The fucking nerve you have, jackass. I was alone and attacked!" You argued bitterly, turning your head away from him in anger. "At least I'm not dead," you mumbled under your breath huffily. This comment seemed to make Jack go silent. His scowl dropped, seeming to consider what you said. If you hadn't been sitting so close, maybe you wouldn't have seen that guilty look that was forming on his face. Having fully expected him to argue back, this silence was greatly unsettling. Not wanting the silence to continue anymore, you spoke up. "I wouldn't have died, but..." you tried to go back on what you said, feeling bad for some reason. Why were you trying to sugarcoat it? You definitely would've died if Fl4k didn't show up. But the way Jack looked genuinely disturbed at the thought of you dying made you regret just slightly how hard you were being. You didn't continue your sentence, letting the quiet return. 

          ...

          Suddenly, Jack twisted his body to search inside of his- well, Timothy's jacket. You watched as he rummaged through inside pockets, possibly searching for something. Then, his hand returned, holding a small set of tools. An eyebrow rose as he presented them, as he then sat up on his knees and hovered closer to your arm. 

          "Hey, what are y-!" You began, flinching as he placed his hands on your shoulders as a reaction to your resistance. 

          "I'm just going to try to fix your arm, chill out..." Jack told you, his brow furrowing. You did the same, staring at him as confusion bubbled up. Then, giving him a nod, you relaxed. He accepted this, setting the tools on the ground whilst looking closer at your arm's damage.