✨[Sunny Day Jack x Reader]✨

III

[Heeeey...how y'all doing..? (❍ᴥ❍ʋ)
Apologies for the prolonged hiatus!
I needed to get my head screwed on tight for this little rascal of a book and buckle up for the ride. Don't know what's to come of it but I'm sure gonna make the trip fun!
Without further ado,
Sit back, grab some snacks, and enjoy! ❤︎︎]
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IM HAVING BIG BOY REGRETS ABOUT WRITING THIS STORY BUT I SAID ID COME W/ A NEW CHAPTER!! THERE'S NO TIME FOR REGRETS, I HAVE TO GET IT OUT 🥹

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     You sit your frog-shaped mug upon the remote, wooden table before you and heave a wavering sigh. The intense scent of coffee floating through the air established a sort of homey feel. It's serene and you're at relative peace with the situation you are undergoing.
Not fully content, however, seeing as some mysterious clown dude was setting up camp inside your noggin.
"Would you mind runnin' that back one more time?"
You mumbled, hushed by the porcelain of the froggy mug you lift to your lips. An extended, irritatingly noisy sip of coffee was taken.
He sat opposite you with his chin resting on the palm of his arm propped on the table. His attentive gaze lingered as you crammed the last bite of blueberry pancake inside your mouth.
You scarfed down the dessert and licked your lips of syrup, awaiting an answer, unamused.
"Well? Go on." You ushered, jabbing your fork at the man before twirling it between your index and middle fingers.
Unbothered, he continued to give you this look. It was comforting, in a way. A warm smile graced his conveniently attractive face and nothing seemed forced. But it was also eerie to be able to offer so much an admiration to someone you hardly knew.
"Ok man, look. I can't do this with you right now," You start, pushing back your chair as you stood, syrup smeared plate in hand. "It's my off day and I don't plan on wasting it on some burglar. I'll be in the kitchen if you want to tell me the truth."
With that, you slid across the dining room floor in your knee-high, mitch-match socks (that were 2x your actual size) to the kitchen. It wasn't huge but it wasn't so small to the point where you couldn't move properly. You set the plate into the stainless steel of the sink, a sharp clink ringing throughout the enclosed space, before heading back.
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Soooo— that was written in 9th grade and was never finished. I don't exactly plan on writing any more of this story but just for closure reasons, I'm posting this work in progress.

(Revised, kind of. The tense changes are so recurrent that it's hard to correct them all.)