The Idiot Who Stole My Heart | Septiplier AU

Attitude

Jack's POV:

Okay, yeah, he blew a fuse. But Jack was known to have the tendency to pivot between emotions with so much as a single word sent his way, he couldn't help it.

The bliss of the night had been wonderful. In his view, there was nothing like ending a labor induced day of work with a much needed burst of mind-numbing horseback riding. The biting wind helped pull the negative and deprecating thoughts from his mind, leaving it all behind and allowing him to simply enjoy the happy moment in front of him. Goodbye homesickness, lost bets, stress over getting the money to pay the taxes on time. They all left to make way for Jack to bask in the moment with his amazing friends.

Seeing the prince however, turned everything back in a matter of seconds.

With his perfect clothes and perfect hair and perfect face, the perfectly overflowing platter of food left forgotten on the perfectly chiseled stone balcony. It all seemed so fake. So...unsettling.

It made Jack become self conscious of the permanent dirt that he was never able to get from under his fingernails, of the twigs and dust sticking to his hair, the gross sweat that dripped down his back.

He hadn't been able to enjoy the moment any longer. Even Sam had quieted down, sensing the abrupt mood change as she galloped quietly back to the stables.

By the time he made it back to the stables, having left Bob and Wade far behind, his irritation had snowballed into prickling rage. Muttering angry curses to himself, he jumped off of Sam and led her around back. Usually she put up a fight when being put back in her stall but tonight was an exception.

He all but practically broke down when he tried the latch to the door, finding it locked.

Faint conversation could be head behind the door. Seemed like Wilford was attending to some business stuff? Had Jack been in the right mindset he might've just politely knocked on the door.

The thing was, he wasn't in the right mindset. So what did he do? He hammered on the door and cursed like the Irishman he was: At the door, at the rust on the latch, Wilford's habit to lock the door despite knowing they were out; He basically put down anything off putting that came to his mind.

Being greeting with the sight of an angry Wilford and the prince, albeit looking harmless and even confused, didn't exactly improve his mood. If anything it etched his scowl more permanently into his face.

"What in God's name do you think you're doing boy?!" Wilford yanked him roughly to the side, out of earshot of the prince.

"What's the bloody prince doing here?!" Jack spluttered, anger flaring through his chest as he spared a glance over, along with a rude jab in his direction.

"Well for one he owns this place, and for another he actually enjoys getting away from palace life every now and then. This isn't an uncommon thing. What are you so worked up over?" For an old man he could be pretty intimidating at times.

"He's a fuckin'-"

"Language!" Wilfred snapped, making Jack roll his eyes.

"He's a royal! There's no point in him being down here when he's got a perfectly good and set life in front of him! Why don't you just tell him to crawl back to his probably gold plated grand bedroom, take his fancy jewel encrusted crown, and shove it up his-OW!" He was cut off as Wilford walloped him in the ear, effectively shutting him up.

Shocked, he turned to the old man angrily, prepared to yell some more when Wilford looked him fiercely in the eye and spoke in a hushed but dark tone.