☆
something about how forbidden this is thrills him, though, intrigues him and tempts him. what jack doesn't know won't hurt him, right?
right.
corbyn pads softly towards jack's bedside table with bated breath, waiting with adrenaline coursing through his veins for the moment jack turns around and catches him red-handed. he doesn't, though, and corbyn makes it all the way to the bedside table without alerting the sleeping figure of his best friend. exhaling shakily, he closes his fingers around the cold, hard cover of the notebook and grabs it, holding it tentatively in his hand, ready to drop it at the first sign of jack moving. jack doesn't move, however, doesn't even roll over in his sleep, and corbyn tiptoes back over to the door and out, breathing out in relief and slumping against the wall as he does so.
what does he do now? read jack's innermost secrets?
well...yes, he supposes, opening the book and leafing through the pages. he's slightly disappointed by the first few – they seem mundane, boring, don't make sense. jack's written little annotations next to the different bulletpoints in his scrawling, spidery handwriting; he's even written 'mental notes' in the margins, i guess they aren't mental notes of it's written down, but he's unbelievably cute.
☆
wc; 214
YOU ARE READING
diary ♕ jarbyn
Fiksi Penggemarjack 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 ™
