Some days, Jack and Brooklyn would stay at the dining room.
Holding a pencil and a broken crayon, Brooklyn does his best to draw Jack, who was trying to sit very still---he was holding the pose the older brunette asked him to do so, as long and as accurate as he could.
This time, the Irish boy was arranged to be leaning back the dining chair, legs propped into an Indian seat.
It was fairly comfortable position, really, but Jack was having a hard time to uphold the smile plastered on his face---because his face is starting to hurt from being strained to smile for what feels like a year, and ultimately, because the Irish boy hates his smile.
"How much long, Brooklyn?" Jack spoke up with his teeth still bared out, feeling very insecure, trying his very best to not move his mouth that much.
"I'm almost done... just, trying to get your eyes perfect," the older brunette said, not looking up from the paper he was working on---his brows were furrowed and his tongue was sticking out in concentration.
After a thousand years, which in reality was just seven minutes later, Brooklyn, finally, finally managed to finish the drawing and proudly showed it to Jack.
'It isn't bad, but it isn't good either,' Jack thought to himself.
The Irish boy still appreciated it though---how Brooklyn clearly tried his best in portraying his curly, chestnut hair unto the paper, and how he attempted to capture the perfect shade of green for Jack's eyes.
Besides, with the bright grin the older, smaller boy is showing him, Jack felt like he's receiving the best masterpiece ever created.
A real smiled etched on the Irish boy's face.
~
dropping this out 😌💕 hope you like it! 😊❤
one more chapter after this and things would get funky and interesting 😏😌
any thoughts of what would happen? 🤔
nothing to say much really, hope you all have a wonderful day! thanks for reading! 💕💕
(SubtleJacklyn/Trixia)
YOU ARE READING
(UN)BROKEN REVERIE // jacklyn ✔
Fanfiction"Hey, Jack!" In all honesty, there was nothing truly remarkable at that time. It was just an ordinary day, right at that point where morning comes to an end to greet a hot afternoon, and Jack was just lying on the porch, idly looking over the passin...
