Eyes of Liquor.

Screwdriver.

C: Fraidy Cat Poet

Jack walked through the park, humming to himself before hearing someone pleading.

"J-just-"

"Shut up blondie, shut up and I may make this quick"

Jack rolled his eyes, walking over and seeing a shaking blond man being held at gunpoint by some mugger.

"Am I interrupting something?"

The mugger looked at Jack, narrowing his eyes, "yeah, you are"

"Let the blond go"

"You don't even have a gun"

Jack pulled his gun from his pocket, aiming for the muggers head and cocking it.

"Wanna repeat that?"

The mugger stared at the gun before backing away, putting his own gun away and running off, the blond looked up at Jack,

"T-thank you..."

"You hurt?"

"No"

"Here, I'll walk you home".

Jack tapped the blonds shoulder, starting to walk and the blond walked with him, keeping his head down and clutching papers to his chest, Jack raised an eyebrow.

"What's that?"

"..poems"

"Can I read one?"

"They aren't-"

"Didn't ask if they were good or not, I asked if I could read one".

The blond huffed and handed Jack a sheet of paper, the taller looking over it and tilting his head, the blond drew in on himself,

"I know I'm a bad poet....but I'm a good man"

"I like it"

"What"

"I like it"

The blond blinked, grabbed the paper and held it to his chest again, "Well you'd be a first"

Jack just smiled, the blond was reminding him of a puppy, "I'm Jack"

"...I'm William, people call me Spike".