#jacknwilde

“I spy with my little eye, something going on with Jackson Wilde and Rosabelle Moretti, and Rosabelle Moretti and Giuseppe Ricci, and Giuseppe Ricci and Luna Shaw, and Luna Shaw and Ciaran Brennan, and Ciaran Brennan and Amber Horne, and Amber Horne and Miles Armstrong, and Miles Armstrong and Cal Renard, and Cal Renard and Maggie Blackwell.” 

He’d lost count of how many roof gutter’s he’d managed to clean. It was getting on for 10am and he’d been out since 5am. He’d long since discarded his jacket leaving him in a vest and jeans as he hung from the roof with one hand and used he other to shovel the mush inside into a rubbish bags below, he had about seven filled so far. 

He used his knees to pull the glove off his hand and wiped his sweaty brow, taking a break while still hanging as a truck pulled up; Chou looked over to see Jack emerge from it and offered him a nod, even a small smile, the exercise putting him in a good mood. “Morning.” he said, voice far too even all thing’s considered, “Have you been helping out long?” he asked, “I haven’t seen you before now.”

Chou would be the first to admit he didn’t have a great deal of friends, or even acquaintances really. But some had found their way beneath his stoic surface and for reasons he wasn’t quite sure of seemed to enjoy his company. Jack was one such person. On the surface they couldn’t appear more different, one vocal and friendly, the other quiet and distant; yet they’d forged some kind of connection in at least one thing: a love of nature. 

So, Chou was currently sitting atop a tree branch, a back-pack hanging from an arm waiting past the time the other was supposed to show. He turned his head at a noise and saw the other finally approaching. “You’re late.” he told him blandly, his illusory butterfly fluttering down to fly around Jack’s head, “I almost left without you.”

“Like I just get to tell you what I wanna see? Wow okay, Dash Hastings and Phoebe Stones, she’d spice up his life. Is that awkward to say? He said he hasn’t gone on a date in a long time, right? What about Laura Wilde and Lincoln Rossi? Ian Tyler and Jack Wilde? Faraday Fitzpatrick and Farren Loset? Violet Becker and Posey Mitchell? They could be their own flower girls at the wedding!”