Tattooed Tears (A Jack Gilinsky Fanfiction) ❤︎

19

*Danielle's POV*

I sat up in bed as I smelled the air. The whole house smelled like it was burning. 

I looked around. The spot next to me on the bed, was empty and the covers were moved to the side. 

I heard a loud bang from downstairs. What the hell is going on down there?

I climbed out of Jack's bed and ran over to Laura's room, where I was staying. I quickly put on a pair of white skinny jeans and a black tank top. I brushed my hair and began my way downstairs, holding my breath. It smelled like straight up burnt food. 

"Jack, what on Earth happened here?" I looked ahead of me as my mouth gaped open. The whole kitchen was smokey and there were about 6 pieces of burnt toast on the floor. He turned to me and  I laughed.

"I tried to bake." He smirked and walked closer to me, out of the smoke. 

"You have more baking ingredients on your face than in the bowl." I laughed as he cleaned some stuff off his face, embarrassed.

I walked over to the back door and opened it to let some of the smoke out.

"Good idea, why didn't I think of that?" He leaned his elbow on the counter, watching me as I fanned out some smoke.

"My dad was a terrible baker, but he really liked to bake. So I used to do this when that happened." I giggled and smiled as I remembered to the times with my dad when he would just insist that he could cook dinner, but it ended up exactly like this kitchen.

"Sounds like a great dad." He smiled at me and continued to watch me.

"He was." My right side of my mouth pulled into a smile.

"I wish I could've met him." 

I was quite for a second. I had a lump in my throat.

"So, what exactly were you trying to make?" I referenced to his pink apron, which was full of flour.

"I don't know, to be honest. I was trying to make you a nice breakfast, but it didn't really work out so well." He shook his hair out and swept it to the side.

"You didn't have to do that."

"It was the nice thing to do," he paused. "I don't know where I went wrong. I haven't cooked myself in 3 years. I usually had my mom cook, or just depend on a cafeteria or other people." He grinned.

"Wait, where is your mom?" I looked around but she wasn't anywhere.

"She left this note." He picked something up from under all the flour and slid it to me. 

I read what it said:

Jack,

I'm sorry about what happened last night. I shouldn't have acted the way I did. I figured you would want to have a fun weekend with Danielle, and I didn't want to ruin it even more than I have. I left to go stay with a friend for the weekend. Again, I'm sorry. Enjoy your weekend.

Mom.

I didn't really know how to respond so I just slid it back to him.

We were both quiet for a minute. We were both thinking of something to say.

"I need powdered sugar, pronto." I walked behind him and cleared the flour off the counter. 

He came over to me with the sugar that he got from the pantry and gave me a confused look.

"I'm going to teach you how to cook," I told him and poured some powdered sugar in the bowl.

"Ah, learnin' from the best." He put his elbow on the counter and looked at me. He was like 6 inches away from me. His gaze made me sweaty and nervous.