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“Thanks for helping out tonight Jackson. It looks so nice here now!” Jolie squealed, her hands clasping together as she beamed at the now very cosy looking classroom.
Snacks were neatly laid out on the tables, the chairs were covered with knitted seat cosies- courtesy of Home Ec -and all of Jolie’s supplies were dotted around the table in little decorated boxes.
It was an ideal setup for her after-school jewellery-making club, a passion she'd been eager to kickstart for weeks. Wendy's agreement to initiate the club was a surprising stroke of luck, given her prior reluctance. Jolie's persuasive charm must’ve worked wonders though; not only did Wendy consent to the club, but she also generously provided an available classroom after detention hours to allow an immediate start.
However, this arrangement resulted in the club meeting on Tuesdays and Thursdays for the initial weeks, owing to the school's extended hours for football practice. Which speaking of, could somehow still be very audibly heard outside.
Hopefully it won’t be too distracting for the club.
“Don’t sweat it, I’m glad I could help. What time is everyone getting here?” Jackson asked, placing down the last bag of chips and slapping Ken’s hand away as he immediately targeted them.
“More importantly, what time is Brenda getting here?” Ken chimed in with a wag of his eyebrows, hopping down from where he was sat atop of one of the desks. He was still nursing his hand, but his pout had vanished as he mentioned the girl he had been slightly infatuated with lately.
Jackson could only roll his eyes at the display, no wonder the guy had been so eager to help out and join the club. Well that, and he did seem to genuinely really like Jolie’s jewellery.
Understandable to be honest.
“The sign up sheet said five thirty, so not too much longer.” Jolie twisted on her heel to face Ken, finger pointed with a stern glower, “And you better behave. I will not hesitate to put you in time out, okay? Everything has to be perfect so that they come again next week.”
Nodding along in agreement, Jackson leant over to the boy with a knowing look in his eye. “If this doesn’t go well, that means no Brenda too.”
Something seemed to click with Ken at that moment, evident by the bead of sweat trickling down his forehead, so he shot a- still very unimpressed- Jolie some finger guns before reaching over to the stack of papers up front. “You got it boss. I’ll put down the instruction sheets, yeah?”
“Thank you Ken.” She huffed in reply.
Feeling a heavy yawn make its way up his throat, Jackson grabbed his coat and gave the classroom one last once over before placing a friendly hand on Jolie’s shoulder.
She hummed at the contact, looking proudly at the set up.
“Too bad Timothy couldn’t make it to help you babysit Ken, huh?” he quipped, tilting his head toward Ken, who was wrestling with the unruly stack of paper instructions. Jolie had meticulously been preparing them for hours and perhaps it was slightly over but they did cover a large array of jewellery-making techniques, so who could fault her?
As Ken’s attempt to handle the papers ended in a scattering mess, he shot the pair a sheepish grin, acknowledging his clumsy mishap.
“Are you sure I shouldn’t stay?” Jackson added as he cringed.
But Jolie only tapped her small hand against Jackson’s with a warm smile as she made her way over to assist Ken with the mess.
“Ken and I can manage. Besides, you’ve had a long week. You won’t have any fun if you’re as tired as you are now. Go get some sleep Jack.”
“I’m not too tired-“ Jackson started, but was quickly interrupted by a yawn. Jolie tilted her head in tandem, eyebrows raised as if to say ‘I told you so’.
A pang of guilt found its way into Jackson’s chest as he gave Jolie an apologetic smile. What a great friend he was turning out to be. To be fair though, he was a lot smarter than to not listen to Jolie.
“Alright, alright. I’ll go home and rest.” He told her, stopping by the doorway and peering his head in one last time. “Good luck with the club guys!”
“Thanks man! You better be here next week!” Jolie replied with a wink.
“Yeah Jack! Next week is friendship bracelets. You better pair up with me!”
“I will Ken! Bye guys.”
“Bye!”
Although he didn't mind staying to assist, it was evident that Jackson was utterly drained, and the invitation to head home was a much-needed relief. Attempting to craft jewellery this evening felt like a recipe for disaster; he internally joked that he'd likely end up entangled in the beads before finishing a single piece at his current level of fatigue.
It’s just that everything seemed to be catching up to him. All the stresses and situations that he has been thrown into without warning, from the very beginning of his life till now. There were just so many things to worry about, things that most teenagers- hell most adults would never even have to think toward.
Sometimes it felt like the question ‘why me?’ followed him around like his own little angelic chorus. A single query that slithered its way into every magical inconvenience. Which sounds self pitying and lame but when you're haunted by literal magic, it feels pretty appropriate.
So Jackson promised himself that he would take things steady. Keep up his investigations into the magic and his diary, but also allow some days where he can just feel like a teen again. Get his school work done and try to live with one foot through the crazy door and one through the…whatever door is the normal one.
Yet, little did he know that maintaining this weighted balance would prove to be one of the most challenging aspects of his life, and he despised the constant fatigue that plagued him these days. In a season where the winter brought forth countless chances for ice skating and cozying up with hot cocoa, everyone else seemed to be basking in these opportunities. Instead, even the brisk winter air failed to offer solace from his constant drowsiness, leaving him pining for those bygone days when he could breeze through the school week and still have the energy to enjoy quality time with friends.
Those moments seemed watered down to daydreams by this point. And that only added to the crippling sadness he just couldn’t seem to escape. The ache, so bone deep, that he cannot rid himself of it.
Despite these longings, at that moment, there was nowhere else Jackson wished to be than at home.
But, as always, life had a different plan and he was only one turn away from the exit when a sudden noise snapped him out of his sleepiness.
Jackson was abruptly stopped in his tracks by the sound of rapid hiccuping escaping the janitor's closet, the door ever so slightly ajar. The sound alone was enough to send alarm bells blaring through his mind, but the sight of muddy footprints only fed into his cautious intrigue.
A very tired and dread filled part of him wanted to keep walking, get through those doors and let today be just that. Today, a closed door, nothing else to think about. But the sniffles that followed were too small and muffled to ignore, clearly carefully hidden by a concealing hand.
Whoever this was was certainly trying to hide. Jackson remembers the times he attempted the same thing. When the emotions were so raw and ugly that he had no choice but to keep them out of sight from other people. Even those he loved. Whether it was a locked bathroom stall or his back against the bedroom door, he hid. More often than he’d like to admit.
As a result, for a long time no one ever uncovered them, and although it felt safer in the moment, as time passed Jackson began to wonder if he was perhaps not someone worth finding.
And that somehow felt worse.
Is that how this person will feel if he simply keeps walking?
“No, no, no, no, no, no, no.” The mystery- yet somewhat familiar -voice whispered through haggard breaths, and the pure desperation of their tone broke Jackson’s heart a little bit.
“Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop!” Every repeated word came out more fragmented than the last, and there was really no telling what was happening behind those closed doors. And Jackson didn’t like it.
Without a second of further contemplation, Jackson gingerly placed his hand against the door and pushed it open as slowly and carefully as possible.
There was no way in hell he could just go home now.
“Hello-?” Jackson whispered, mentally preparing himself for who he may be faced with amongst the confines of the closet. But never in a million years could he have predicted what he saw. The coincidence far too great.
David Miller.
David Miller curled up amongst the cleaning products and boxes like a frightened animal.
He, quite frankly, looked utterly terrible. Dark bags sat under his electric blue eyes, irises somehow even brighter as the redness surrounding them stood out within the low light of the janitor's closet, his hair was an unrecognisable mess; so far from the styled to perfection look Jackson had grown used to. And his football jersey was crinkled and muddy beneath his fisted hands,
closed so tightly around the loose fabric, Jackson worried it could tear.
Now that he really thought about it, this was the first time Jackson had properly seen David since what had happened. Sure he had caught glimpses of him here and there, but he tended to lay low in school to the point that he was easily missable. Which was certainly new.
No one said anything about it though, most were shocked that he even decided to come back so soon. Ron had said that David seemed to like pretending nothing had ever happened, but not in a way that was relieving. In a way that made Exer and the rest of his friends worry that the guy might be losing his mind all together. Even Pamela got all scrunched up talking about it, her face adorning a frown whenever Jackson asked her how the other boy was doing.
He never really saw him face to face long enough to ever ask himself. And by the way the others acted, maybe that was a good thing.
But what was most unsettling about how he looked right now, was undoubtedly the look on his face. Pure, horrified panic that shook Jackson to his core.
“David? Oh my god, what’s happening?” Jackson yelped, his own form of panic clawing its way into his tone. He immediately crouched down to David’s level and began trying to calm the other. Or alert him of his presence at least.
However, David didn’t do so much as to look at him; nothing exactly coherent came from the other boy either and he only tried to push his way further into the corner. Further away from Jackson. It honestly looked as though he were trying to get so close, pressed so tightly against the surface, that he physically fused with the wall.
“David, d-do I need to go get help?!”
“I just want it to stop!” The other boy babbled out, only being slightly more understandable than the rest of his words.
“David, it’s Jackson! What’s going on?” And perhaps his voice was a little too loud because David whipped his head toward the sound without missing a beat, his eyes so wide that they took Jackson off guard.
The atmosphere of the room was stale, yet intense and the thick scent of mud made Jackson’s nose twitch. The fields must’ve gotten extra wet following the early frost, leaving the grass a sludgy mess. A sludgy mess that a load of bustling football players were running and sliding along.
What the hell happened out there?
“David, it’s okay! It’s Jackson..” He tried again, much softer this time as David’s petrified glare bore into his face.
It appeared as if David was calculating, searching the other boy’s expression for some kind of inkling of safety, but struggling through the way his shoulders pulsated with each far-too-small intake of air. Admittedly, Jackson wasn’t exactly the best in these situations and he was beginning to think that this sort of…mental breakdown(?) was out of his range of comfort capabilities.
Regardless of their past, Jackson was worried. He was really fucking worried and he couldn’t shake the image of the sunshine smile that he had always subconsciously associated with David.
The bright grin that was now twisted and gritted in a trembling frown, tears dripping past the scar that resided beneath his bottom lip.
This wasn’t the nasty jerk Jackson had built in his head, a person he fused together in the aftermath of manipulation and hurt. This was a scared and confused kid. One that had only really ever tried to win Jackson over.
Seeing David like this hurt more than he thought. It really did. Sure, Jackson had been unbelievably mad at the guy- with all the REDs -but it was always partly different with David. There was this sense that Jackson could never quite shake, an internal instinct that David was almost oblivious to the things he saw and did.
Too blinded by the greatness of Exer Campbell to witness the shadows that the real Exer cast.
It was soon revealed that David had been living in those shadows all along, deceived for a year, longer when you consider the magical lies. But some people, bathed in darkness, look only to seek out and follow the light in front of them. Meanwhile others, like Jackson, shun it for afterall it is the creator of shadows in the first place.
Both, however, still fester in that blackness. So maybe David and himself had more in common than Jackson thought.
Jackson was pulled from his guilt-ridden spiral by a shift in front of him, David ripping himself from the corner and propping himself up more as his eyes narrowed slightly.
“J-Jackson?” He uttered, breath hitching as he began to take in his surroundings more diligently.
Something within Jackson softened and he finally let out the puff of air he had been holding in from the moment he entered the tiny room.
“Yes, yes, thank god. That’s right, you’re safe with me David. What’s going on?”
Once again there wasn’t really a response, just a wince as David looked down to his arm.
The mud coating it had dried and cracked, revealing the red sore skin. David hovered a trembling palm over it, finally letting go of the front of his shirt. There wasn’t any blood, which was a good thing, but it did look painful. Jackson’s best guess was that David had gotten a cleat to the arm, the studs leaving a nasty mark in their wake.
They should really get him cleaned up.
“Shit, your arm…“
“I-...I don’t even remember this happening.” David confessed, eyes trained onto the wound and voice still raspy and frail. “Everything is off in my head.”
Something was definitely not right here and the more Jackson saw the more he wanted to know. Yet, for now, he opted for the sensible choice to check over David’s wound, feeling a little loss for words as he tried to get a better look.
“Here let me see.” He said, moving a little closer. But the second Jackson went to take David’s hand, the other practically launched himself backwards, a couple spray bottles toppling off the shelf as he gasped violently.
What the fuck?
“No, don't! Don’t touch me.”
“Huh? I was just going to take a look-“
“I know! Just don’t touch me Jackson, please!” David begged again, pleading with Jackson like an ant beneath a boot.
God was he really that scary? Jackson knows they’ve had their very, very bitter moments but it’s not like he’s gonna attack a guy whilst he’s down.
Is that really what David still thought of him? After everything?
“Your arm looks bad, I just wanted to help.“ He tried to reason, an inclination of hurt inching its way into his tone.
“I know, I’m sorry, just please don’t…please Jackson.”
Jackson’s eyebrows furrowed as he shuffled back a bit, slightly deflated by the dramatic outburst and cringing at the way that David had resembled a rabbit caught in a snare, looking at Jackson as if he were the fox ready to rip his throat out.
All he wanted was to help. That wasn’t fair?
“Look I’m backing up.” He sighed. “I wasn’t going to do anything. I wouldn’t have hurt you.”
David’s horror-filled features faltered at that, eyes filling with a sadness that Jackson couldn’t quite place. The boy steadied himself by squeezing his fists together, breathing deeply and shakily.
“It’s not you Jackson…It’s really not you.” David finally admitted, placing his head in his palms that were now marked with the crescent indents of his nails. “Holy sugar this is so embarrassing.”
“Oh..then what is it? What happened out there? I mean, I assume you were in football practise?”
David raised his head and snorted at that, wiping a tear from his long lashes as he clearly appreciated the comment. “Well, I didn’t dress up like this and roll around the mud for fun, Jack.”
The air finally lightened through David’s teasing, and Jackson allowed himself to ease up with it.
A subtle smirk tugged at his lips, “Hey, we all have our hobbies.” He shrugged.
“I don’t judge.”
“You think I’d look like this? For a hobby?”
“Well-“ Jackson fumbled, “Wait, isn’t that what football is anyway?”
As David went to reply with a finger raised, they both paused for a beat, before the boy began pondering the statement with a crook of his neck.
“Huh..never thought of it like that, touché.” He joked, a heavy hand pressing into his still watery eyes.
That simple movement broke Jackson out of his brief comfort and he was quickly reminded of the reason they were here in the first place.
David was hurting, David was hurt. There were loose ends to be threaded.
“So umm…I know I’m not Exer or Pam, I’m probably not even on the list of people you would want to confide in. But, if you want to talk about it- whatever is going on -I’m here?”
“I don’t really know what there is to say..” David laughed dryly.
“Well, how come you didn’t want me to touch you? I was honestly just trying to help. It’s not like you're known to shy away from contact.”
David looked at him for a second. Really looked at him as if he were searching for his own reflection in the black of Jackson’s pupils. Then he huffed, relocating that stare to the floor.
“Touch has always felt like a bigger deal to me. Even before everything.”
“Right..?”
“It’s just even more different for me now, I guess. I used to really like it, especially if I initiated it, because I wasn’t exactly used to..to being touched. After moving in with my dad- William…he never used to…” David wrapped his arms around himself as he spoke, symbolic of the arms he must’ve never really felt around him. “It was nice to have contact. I know it sounds strange, but It made me feel real.”
There was a lot to unpack there. A lot of insight to the man that sat like venom at the end of everyone’s tongues. ‘Evil,’ as Ron often described him. And Jackson hated him too. Pamela filled him in on the fragments she caught. The red flags she felt terrible for missing. William Miller had an impact on everyone in that sense, but what else could you expect when it was his very hand that had crushed their shining sun.
‘I’m sorry’ is what Jackson had wanted to say, but that somehow didn’t feel right from where he sat next to David.
“I remember your spine crushing hugs David.” Jackson chuckled, resting his head against the wall as a blush crept onto David’s face. “I think a lot of people are missing them.”
Exer certainly is, he’s been a grump lately. Well more than usual, but Jackson’s one to talk.
“I miss how they used to feel too. Like I said, it’s different now.”
“In what way? If you don’t mind me asking.” Jackson pressed lightly.
There was a twitch in David’s nose as he hovered a tentative fingertip over his faint scar.
“It doesn’t feel very..safe anymore. Like at any moment it could make my skin start burning again.”
The use of the word ‘again’ told the entire story in itself, and suddenly everything made all the sense in the world. How did he not see it before?
“I forget..” David continued, “I know I’ve always been forgetful but, it’s like my memories get confused of what is now, and what was then. And then I start to get confused..Pffft, that makes no sense. Words, ha ha.”
“No, no. You’re okay.” Jackson assured.
“Thanks Jack, it’s not always that bad, especially if I see it coming.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m guessing football practice was a struggle huh?”
“Hah, you can say that again. I just really thought I would be okay to go back to how I was. But the second the guys started tackling me and even brushing against me…I was just sent back there.”
“Oh…”
“I must’ve looked like such an idiot. I ended up being thrown to the ground because I couldn’t get my memories in order.” David nursed his battered arm, presumably recoiling at the situation. “I thought Coach was..him. He was standing over me when I hit the ground and I just freaked out. I didn’t want him to start telling me how stupid I was.”
“David..”
“How stupid I am..” He whispered.
“That’s not-“
“Sugar, Jackson, I'm sorry. I’ve been so awful to you and our first conversation on better terms is in a janitor's closet.” David pouted, gesturing to the toppled over bottles and the mop that was listening in to their conversation. “ I knew from the moment I saw you, I’d never deserve a friend like you.”
Jackson wished he was better with all this stuff. He had learnt so much about David in just this one conversation. He knows from his own writing that it’s the insignificant words, the adjectives that can be so easily swept over that tell the longest stories. And there was so much to say, too many phrases of comfort that slipped through his fingers.
David picked up on this silence, stirring beside him as a single tear dripped down his cheek.
Ron had confided in him once that every time he had looked at David, he could still point out exactly where each bruise had been placed. Namely because it was a sight that he replayed in his bedroom, guilt-ridden for not doing more.
Just like now, Jackson had very little advice to give, he could only place a firm hand on the towering boy’s shoulder as he hunched over, lost in unruly thought.
He couldn’t do that for David though.
Jackson opted instead to say the first thing that came to mind, let his gut instincts choose how to formulate everything he was feeling.
“I understand you.” His brain supplied. ‘Just like how I understand your words.’
“Pardon?”
“I understand you, David.” Jackson repeated. “More than I did at least, and you are not undeserving, and you are not stupid. You’ve dealt with a lot on your own haven’t you?”
David halted, the jerk of his head the only indication of a nod.
“Me too. Obviously in a different way from you but that’s not the point. Just know that you are worth being seen. You deserve to be understood, and I do. I know it’s been rocky between us but I just need you to know that you are safe with me. Even when your memories are tricking you.” Jackson readjusted slightly, the kindness he had been missing, flickering through his eyes. “I’ll look out for you.”
A few tears threatened to spill from David’s own eyes as he smiled, so sadly yet widely nonetheless.
“And I’ll look out for y-you Jackson.” David confided, his voice quivering with emotion. “I can’t thank you enough, I wish I could hug you right now.”
‘I’m sorry that man- no, that monster -took that away from you.’ Jackson thought bitterly, though the apology would never leave his lips. He knows better than anyone that ‘sorry’ is a thin veil.
There may not be a route around that issue, but Jackson thought he would give a suggestion regardless. “If you want to, I’ll keep my hands at my sides, I won’t touch you if you’re not feeling up to that yet.”
It was clear he was more sensitive to it after having those ‘confused memories’. Another thing he picked up through the gaps in David’s words.
David’s eyes sparkled with hope as he sat up on his knees,“But I’m all muddy?”
“Pssht. Mud, schmud.”
The relief that washed over the other boy made Jackson’s own soul settle a little easier and suddenly all the tiredness he felt before was forgotten. To solidify his idea, Jackson firmly placed his arms against his sides and invited David in with a nudge of his chin.
As was expected, the hug didn’t happen right away and it took David a minute to fully muster up his courage. In the end though, the boy had pushed through and Jackson felt a strange sense of pride as he felt shaky arms wrap around his neck.
“Thank you.” David whispered, pulling away as quickly as he had got there. That didn’t make Jackson feel any less proud though.
“Yeah, yeah. We’re still going to the bathroom to get you cleaned up though. How were you planning on getting home? I don’t think you should walk in the cold like this..”
“I’ve gone longer distances in the cold.” The other replied sadly. “In worse conditions than this.”
David Miller was really tugging on his heart strings today, huh? If it’s to convince Jackson to let him use his brand new skateboard, then it’s working.
“Not today David. I’m looking out for you, remember? You could always take my skateboard and I’ll wal-“
“It’s okay Jack! I just remembered that Brenda should be here! I wasn’t really listening but she offered me a ride after her new club. I can’t remember what one it was though…”
Well that was certainly meant to be. Looks like he’ll be taking that Jewellery class after all.
“Hey, David?”
“Yeah?”
“How’d you feel about joining the Jewellery making club?”
It was like a light switch had flicked on in the other’s head and he gave Jackson a knowing look.
“C‘mon, let’s go before a very confused janitor gets here.”
Rising to his feet, Jackson ignored the way his knees cracked after being sat for so long, and he offered David a hand. To which was politely refused, but Jackson didn’t mind one bit. He was a little wobbly, but David followed with haste.
“Nah..Terry’s pretty chill. Last time he caught me crying in there, he gave me two peppermints and said I was welcome back at any time.” David relayed happily.
“Last time-? Peppermints-? Okay, we will unpack that later.”
It probably took them around another 20 minutes to get David cleaned up, and Jackson did admittedly have to offer the guy his own sweater when they realised he only had his football jersey, the rest of his clothes sat within the changing rooms that David wasn’t quite ready to face yet. It was a slight battle though, David already felt embarrassed enough with the whole situation.
That changed when Jackson threatened to tell a very protective Brenda that he refused the clean and warm option. So let’s just say it was a good thing that the winter air convinced Jackson to layer up. It’s also a good thing that Tía insisted he wore his thickest jacket to school. But hey, at least they were both still warm. Yet, David did warn him that he may never see the sweater again though. Apparently he wasn’t the best at remembering to return things meaning that Harry and Exer recently had to go on an emergency shopping trip for clothes due to all of the sweaters David had stolen. Which was a lot for barely 3 weeks.
As new- and secret -as their relationship was, and even though Jackson still thinks he may have had something to do with it, he still beamed fondly at the story. Mainly due to David’s antics, but partly because that kid who first moved here in September was still in him. And he was still fascinated by the pair of shining stars he was first met with.
That Jackson was happy for them and maybe this Jackson could learn to be too. He will get there.
When David was all freshened up and Jackson checked over his arm, they both decided to head over to the club. They’d be showing up half way through, but something told him that Jolie would just be happy they tagged along.
Upon entering the room Jolie gave him her usual concerned look, pausing halfway through her demonstration with furrowed eyebrows directed at him. If looks could say ‘Jackson what the fuck are you doing here, I told you to sleep’, this would be it.
However, that expression was quickly disregarded as David trailed in after him, his eyes still puffy and looking exhausted beyond belief.
“Hey, sorry to interrupt, Jolie. Is it too late for newcomers?.” Jackson gestured toward himself and David, who offered a shy wave.
Jolie’s features softened as she processed the situation, nodding understandingly. “Of course, no problem at all. Glad you’re both here.”
David offered a sheepish smile. “Thanks Jolie.” He then turned his attention to his twin, who was a millisecond away from pouncing from her chair and smothering her brother worriedly. “Hey Bren.”
Brenda and Ken- who was obviously sitting beside her -shared a confused look, the latter of the two locking eyes with her twin once again and asking a million questions within that simple gaze.
David just waved her off, mouthing a ‘We will talk later,’ before pulling up a chair next to his sister. Which seemed to satisfy her for now.
“Okay you two, just follow the instruction sheets on the table and let me know if you need anything.” Jolie announced, throwing Jackson a thumbs up as he took his own seat amongst the small and scattered crowd.
As the club resumed its activities, Jackson found the quiet corner a great place to observe. David was still slightly reserved but seemed more comfortable. Jolie led the session effortlessly, and Brenda seemed to be fighting off every inner demon she had to not fuss over her brother.
Though, the noisy nature of the club soon picked up again, and the atmosphere livened up with it.
David eventually joined in, his initial hesitation melting away as he engaged with the craft, albeit a bit clumsily at first. Jackson couldn’t help but smile as he watched David slowly find his rhythm, tentatively but eagerly participating in the jewellery-making process.
Amidst the creative chatter and shared enthusiasm, the club’s energy became contagious. Jolie was beaming, clearly thrilled to see her club in action, while David’s focus on crafting seemed to ease the strain on his troubled mind.
The evening stretched on like this for a while, the gentle hum of interwoven voices orchestrating the setting sun, leaking through the windows and blanketing them all in a warm light. The only shadows here were of purple and blue. Too small and frail to consume anything or anyone.
It was nice.
As the club session drew to a close, David approached Jackson, a nervous smile playing on his lips. "Hey, Jackson. I made something. It's not perfect, but I wanted you to have it." He extended a carefully crafted bracelet made of vibrant, interwoven beads and small charms. “It wasn’t exactly what the instructions said, but I wanted to finish it today.”
Jackson was taken aback by the gesture, his mouth gaping open as he accepted the bracelet with a grateful hand, examining the intricate design. "David, this is amazing. Thank you so much." His voice held genuine appreciation.
"It's nothing much, really. But, I just wanted to say thanks for earlier." David's words were soft, filled with a sincerity that caught Jackson by surprise.
"You didn't have to do this, but I really appreciate it. It's fantastic, man." Jackson beamed, slipping the bracelet onto his wrist.
It did feel like an appropriate moment for a hug, not that Jackson was particularly big on them, but it seemed infectious with the golden boy. Alas, he wasn’t going to subject David to that a second time today, so alternatively he slowly raised a closed fist, chuckling softly as David connected his own in a fist bump.
This had been a completely unexpected turn of events, but Jackson couldn’t say that he wasn’t glad it happened.
The bracelet upon his wrist was evidence enough. Through understanding and a little patience, our loose threads can be entangled once again.
And they can form such beautiful shapes.