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"i'm tired. i'm going to bed."
it's only 10pm, and yet again jack's going to bed early. every conversation recently has ended in exactly the same way with exactly the same words. and if corbyn's being totally honest, it's starting to worry him.
it was excusable the first two, three, maybe four times but it has been over 2 weeks now, and corbyn's starting to feel an uncomfortable weight settle in his stomach. is it him? is it because jack doesn't want to spend time with him anymore?
"okay," corbyn says, biting his lip and avoiding eye contact with jack, staring steadfastly at the TV instead. jack doesn't even linger a moment, the door letting in a cold draught as it slams behind him on his way out.
corbyn doesn't move when jack goes, continuing his charade of watching TV, trying to ignore the way his stomach is sinking. jack would tell him if he had a problem, right? they're best friends, and that's what best friends do.
unless the problem is corbyn.
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wc; 173
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diary ♕ jarbyn
Fanficjack has been going to bed way earlier than usual, and corbyn sneaks into jacks room to read his private dream journal. and one day, jack finds out - - - lower case intended ™
