Why Don't We One Shots

Not good at this, Jack Avery

Y/N had always been the type of person who loved deeply. She believed in soulmates, in forever, in the kind of love that made the world seem like it could bend to your will. But after the mess of her last relationship, after the pain that had been haunting her for months, she had given up on the idea of love altogether. It was easier like that anyway, less complicated and less messy.

The night she met Jack, she wasn't looking for anything. She had just moved into a new apartment in a quiet neighborhood, far from where she'd come from. She had her routine: work, dinner, a few episodes of her favorite show, and then sleep. It was simple, and she liked to play it safe. She wasn't at all prepared for Jack.

It was a Thursday night when the knock on her door came. She was curled up on the couch, a blanket wrapped tightly around her, scrolling through her phone. The knock was soft, almost hesitant. She frowned, not expecting anyone. She got up, half-heartedly smoothing her hair, and opened the door.

Standing there was a guy with messy hair and dark eyes that seemed to pierce straight through her. He had an easy smile on his lips, but there was something guarded about him—like he was hiding something.

"Hey, I'm Jack," he said, his voice low and warm. "I live in the apartment next door. I know this might be random, but I wanted to introduce myself. We're neighbors, after all."

Y/N blinked, a little surprised by the unexpected visit. "Oh, uh, hi," she said, still trying to process the situation. "I'm Y/N."

"I saw you moving in the other day. Didn't want to just knock and introduce myself then, but I figured now would be a good time."

She laughed, not knowing what to say. There was something about him that made her nervous, but not in a bad way. "Yeah, well, it's nice to meet you, Jack."

"Anyway," Jack continued, "I was just about to head out, but I thought you might want to grab coffee sometime. I know how it feels moving into a new place and not knowing anyone. If you ever need a friend or someone to talk to, I'm here."

Y/N wasn't sure what to make of his offer. She wasn't exactly in the market for new friends, but there was something about Jack that intrigued her. His openness, his relaxed confidence—it was different from what she was used to.

"Maybe sometime," she said, trying to keep things light.

He gave her a small, crooked smile. "No pressure. I'll let you get back to whatever you were doing."

And with that, Jack turned and walked away, leaving Y/N standing in the doorway with a feeling of curiosity blooming inside her.

Over the next few weeks, Jack became a constant presence in Y/N's life, sometimes in the form of a friendly knock on her door, sometimes in the form of casual texts. He never pushed, never tried too hard. It was as if he had a quiet understanding that she wasn't ready for anything more just yet. But slowly, as time passed, the walls she had carefully built around her heart started to crack. She found herself looking forward to his visits, to the brief and easy conversations they shared.

But Jack wasn't like the other guys she'd known; he was different. There was something about him that made her wary. He wasn't interested in making promises. He never talked about long-term plans or futures. He lived in the present, only in the moment, and he seemed perfectly okay with it.

One night, after a few too many glasses of wine and a bit of awkward back-and-forth, Y/N found herself sitting on Jack's couch, his arm casually resting on the back, just close enough to feel the warmth of his body but not close enough to touch. The air between them was thick and the tension could be cut with a knife.

"Listen, I don't want to make this complicated," Jack said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm not looking for something long-term, Y/N. I don't think I can do that right now."

Y/N felt her chest tighten. She hadn't expected him to say it so plainly. She had been trying to ignore the way her heart had started to lean toward him, but hearing his words made it all so real that it overwhelmed her. He wasn't interested in anything serious because he didn't believe in that kind of forever.

She forced a smile, though it didn't reach her eyes. "I get it. I'm not looking for anything serious either."

He met her eyes, his expression unreadable. "Good. I just don't want to hurt you. You really deserve more than this, you know?"

But even as the words left his mouth, Y/N could see the hesitation in his eyes. The vulnerability that seemed to slip through every time they were alone. And for a brief moment, she saw it: there was a part of him that wanted more, even if he was too afraid to admit it.

Days passed, and things between them settled into a strange kind of rhythm. They weren't dating and they weren't even really friends. But there was something that pulled them together. They met for coffee sometimes, laughed about random things, and spent evenings at his apartment with music in the background, their conversations slipping into comfortable silence more often than either of them cared to admit.

But Jack remained distant in a way that Y/N couldn't quite comprehend. He was present, but always just far enough out of reach. He would show up at her door when she least expected it, but would never stay longer than an hour. He would kiss her, softly, like it was nothing, and then pull back before things could get too real. And every time he left, Y/N would find herself staring at the door, wondering why she let him walk away and why he wouldn't let them have all of each other, all the strings attached.

It was a Saturday night when everything came to a head. They had spent the evening watching movies. The tension between them was thick because they both knew they had to talk it through and the silence was beginning to get unbearable.

"Jack," Y/N finally said, her voice steady despite the nerves that were building in her chest. "What are we doing?"

Jack ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. "I don't know. I wish I could explain it, but I can't."

"Then stop pretending like we're fine," she shot back, her voice sharper than she meant it to be. "You don't get to kiss me and then walk away. You don't get to not tell me what's going on."

Jack stepped back, running a hand through his hair. He looked like he was struggling, like he wanted to say something, but the words wouldn't come out.

"Y/N," he started, his voice low and raw, "I'm messed up. I don't know how to fix myself, and I don't want to drag you into it. But I don't know how to keep pretending like I'm okay either."

She stood up, feeling the ache of something she hadn't allowed herself to feel in so long—longing. "I'm not asking you to fix yourself, Jack. I'm asking you to be real with me. If we're going to keep doing this, then we need to stop pretending we're just fine."

Jack's gaze softened, but there was something else in his eyes: pain, regret, uncertainty. "I'm not good at this," he admitted. "I've never been good at feeling."

The words hung in the air like a heavy truth. Y/N could feel her heart breaking in slow motion, but there was something in her that refused to walk away. She couldn't and she didn't want to.

"I don't need you to be perfect," she said softly. "I just need you to be here."

Jack looked at her for a long moment, his chest rising and falling with each breath. And then, finally, he closed the gap between them.

"I don't know if I can give you everything you want," he whispered, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, "but I can try."

In that moment, Y/N realized that love wasn't about the perfect timing, the perfect words or the perfect picture, but it was about trying, despite the broken pieces and despite the fear of falling apart.

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A.N.: I got carried away with the word count and it didn't even lead anywhere lol. These are getting lowk boring so I'll try to spice it up for the next few updates. Thanks for reading loves