You and your stepfather woke up early to figure out what you'd be getting for others for Christmas. You both needed a gift for your stepmother, and then gifts to send to the rest of the family scattered around the country. You finished around lunchtime, much to your relief.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
You were sitting in the lounge eating your packed meals and decided to question your father for further details on how to make your gift for Jack more special.
"Maybe you could give it to him at the plaza, the place is gonna be all lit up and the view of the tree is gorgeous." Your father suggested as an answer to your question after taking a sip of coffee. You'd asked where would be a good place to surprise Jack with the bracelet.
"Well... Jack isn't really comfortable with being in a crowd." You protested. Of course, you were pretty sure he was, but Jack wasn't exactly supposed to be seen in crowds unless he wanted chaos, but you couldn't tell your stepfather that. You'd actually decided to tell him Jack's name after he insisted countless times, and since 'Laughing Jack' isn't such an easily deduced name you decided to be honest. After all the lies you told you thought you at least owed him that much.
"Ah, okay, maybe somewhere farther out... Oh! How about your little hill in the woods? You and your friends loved that spot when you were little!" Your father grinned.
You felt your heart sink at the memory, missing those times along with your friend that was still nowhere to be found, but you shook it off and nodded.
"I'll think more about a location later. I have to make the gift first." You smiled a little. You hoped that a certain man would be able to assist you, yes, he was usually a 'toymaker', obviously, but if he had that much skill for that, then perhaps he could make other things.
"Very true. Are you gonna want help?" He offered.
"I'll be okay, don't worry." You declined politely, shaking your head with an appreciative smile.
He looked a little disappointed but nodded in understanding.
"I keep forgetting that you're all grown up..." He chuckled slightly, looking nostalgic.
You giggled a little, placing your sandwich on your plate on the coffee table next to you and standing up. Your stepfather beamed and did the same, pulling you into a warm embrace.
"You may not be my daughter by blood, but I've always loved you like you were. Whatever we see in that place when we get there may not be pretty, and may have some pretty dark secrets, but I just want you to remember that I love you no matter what happens, okay sweetie?" He whispered, looking down at you afterwards.
You smiled back happily, nodding and saying: "Of course, dad. I love you too."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Later that afternoon you'd assisted Arthur and your stepfather in the chores and had even gotten to know Philip a little better. He was knowledgeable and not an easily distracted individual. He shared your love for dogs and you even let him know a bit about Miles, and you'd piqued his interest. You spent hours talking, and before you even knew it, it was time to get packed up and rest before re-departing.
Your father was already getting your clothes all packed back into the bags and placing everything by the door so that you could set out bright and early after breakfast. He was determined to get the two of you to the neighborhood as soon as possible.
As much as you wanted to sleep due to your slight aches from working, you were oddly wide awake no matter how much time you spent staring up into the darkness of the room. You decided a little walk might help, maybe get some of those jitters of anticipation out of your system. You carefully crept out of bed and grabbed your hoodie since it was colder at night, and you grabbed your phone before you snuck out of the room.
YOU ARE READING
A Little Laughter Left In Me... (Laughing Jack x Reader)
Fanfiction~Hi there ^*^ I'm Boo, and this is the first story I've ever started writing. I hope you enjoy 'A Little Laughter Left In Me...'!~ (I do not own Laughing Jack he belongs to Snuffbomb and the picture belongs to the one who drew it.)