Seven Twenty-Eight

*38 (Jackson).

!!tw : the following chapter contains domestically (emotionally) abusive and sexual (consensual/non-violent) themes. please proceed at your own risk!!

New York, New York - December 3, 2016

Jackson knitted his eyebrows together, chewing the tip of his fingers in anticipation. His nervous expression faded when she turned away from him, pulling her pen out from in between her teeth as she began to move again. He laid his head back, staring up at the ceiling blankly.

"Now you go quiet?" He sighed, "You never stop talking."

She cleared her throat, tucking her long blonde hair behind her ear. "Um— I am drawing," She said slowly, shaking her head slightly.

He pursed his lips, sitting up again to look at her. "Madeline," He huffed, kicking his feet over her lap, "Seriously? You aren't going to say anything?"

She hummed softly, the soft scratch of her pen making him twitch.

"God— Get a new pen or something," He grunted, taking his feet back, "Pressing it harder into the paper isn't going to help you."

She glanced up at him, pressing the tip down harder into the page. "It's not the pen, it's the canvas," She corrected him, flicking her hair over her shoulder.

Jackson winced again, frowning at her in annoyance. "Cut it out," He scowled at her, standing up completely. He leaned over her shoulder, planting his palm into the desk. "What is that?"

"Hercules," She mumbled, carefully sketching out the miscellaneous stars around the constellation in focus.

"Where's that?" He asked, squinting out to the night in front of them.

"I'll show you tomorrow night."

He hummed in response, staring at his reflection in the window for a moment longer. He raised his eyebrows when he noticed her reflection look at his and dropped his head down to look at her directly. "What?"

She smiled, moving her hand up to hold his chin, dragging him into a kiss. She hummed softly, turning her body toward him as her teeth grazed his lip.

He knitted his eyebrows together, pulling away as she put her pen down. "Maddie," He whispered, shaking his head.

She scoffed, frowning at him as she turned back to her drawing. "Whatever," She muttered, "My bad, I guess-"

"Seriously?"

"What?"

"You're mad at me," He raised his eyebrows, "I can't help what I feel— I-I mean, who knows? Maybe he-"

She chirped her lips, shaking her head as she threw her pen down, immediately reaching for another. "Stupid," She mumbled under her breath as she clicked out the point of her new tool.

Jackson pressed his lips together, pushing himself away from the desk to stand behind her. "How are you going to act like you care about me then turn around and do this?"

She actually turned around, slowly and clutching the pen in her grasp. "Do what?" She spat at him, crossing his legs over one another.

"Act like you're mad at me for this," He retorted, "I'm fucking scared, Maddie. And I told you because I thought I could trust you— God forbid I know why since you're already embarrassed to be friends with me."