A Date With Jacksepticeye ▪︎ 1

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Jacksepticeye

[SECOND PERSON]
<word count: 1781>

        Sɪɴᴄᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴀʀʟʏ ᴅᴀʏs of Year Eleven you've been crushing on Seàn McLoughlin.

Year Eleven. How time flies regardless if one might be enjoying their temporary residence on earth, or if they sank in a sullen pool, drowning in thoughts spawned by imbalanced chemicals. The final year of secondary school was the worst yet may be the best; walking away from toxicity and into what was your supposedly frightening journey to adulthood freed you from the role of a struggling student, aged sixteen. One big deep breath, blink of an eye, steady exhale, exams were over and results day rolled over. On brought college, stepping into the life of a student at sixth form; a fresh start, a new beginning.

Office jobs were loathed. The thought of being crammed into a humid office behind a desk, breathing in the grotesque stench of humanity happened to be a peculiar but utterly valid fear you retained. You were a hands on, practical person who preferred to use her creative aspects, putting them to use in a job requiring such skills.

Your chosen course demanded enthusiasm, a creative mind, patience, as well as an optimistic outlook on life - all of which were (fortunately) talents you possessed.

None of the alternative courses laid out on the options table snatched your interest, such as higher maths and English, construction, childcare, sciences, teaching, and medical degrees. They were a bore to you, nothing you would want to take into adult life or pursue the skills to get yourself a job in the subject area. All, except Travel & Tourism. It included Hotel Management and a level 3 course in Air Cabin Crew depending on the class you were in, and thus a fully fleshed out course with more than enough to open many, many opportunities to take forward into the working life.

Why that appealed to you the most fell to unspoken reasons. Perhaps the practical side to it, offering a future far from hunching over a desk, clicking mindlessly away at the computer in front. Just as you hope, the course was everything you wanted it to be, and so much more.

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Surprisingly those light feelings towards Sean McLoughlin hadn't dissipated during the years at college either. Now what you hadn't predicted was the man in question to be doing the same core course as yourself.
From the moment he stepped foot in your classroom, emotions buried and put to rest long ago managed to resurface at the mere sight of that handsome boy. Maybe you'd call him a man, given his broad shoulders, stubble, height, that half grin he would flash, those strong hands...

Anyway.

Everything was good and well, apart from the shared classes, four times a week, every single week of the school year, with Seàn. Considering the fact that you were the only person he knew taking that course, he just had to sit beside you. He asked for your number at one point, to share notes whenever he or yourself missed class so you could catch up.

You were over the moon, but his intentions were far from what you wished them to be.

In the seasonal change from cool winter to bright spring, you found these times to be your most favourite. The lighter days, bringing of new life within luscious plant life and newborn animals, the common occurrence of pastel pink skies; the month of February was truly the best.
Friday had made its blessed arrival, and the weekend was to be a feast between yourself, you, and you alone, with Netflix shows, pizza and a plentiful of sweet treats. After the hard work you put into your recent exam, as well as heaps of coursework, you deserved a day or three to relax.

The dismissal bell rang, the professor bid her students to have a wonderful weekend, and out filed all into the corridors. As you dropped your bag by the doorway, stopping to pull on you jacket, you paused and glanced up at that rich, velvet voice calling your name. Your name, it sounded so good leaving his lips.

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