Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/12978351.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M, Multi
  Fandom:
      Newsies!:_the_Musical_-_Fierstein/Menken
  Relationship:
      Crutchie/David_Jacobs/Jack_Kelly
  Character:
      Jack_Kelly, Crutchie_Morris, David_Jacobs, Medda_Larkin, miscellaneous
      characters_i_made_up_for_the_fic_(like_Mr_Rhodes)
  Additional Tags:
      Modern_AU, PTSD, Nudity, nudity_is_a_tag_right, Figure_Drawing, College
      AU, oof_idk_what_else_to_tag_this_as, ill_probably_add_tags_on_as_i_go,
      idk_what_else_to_tag_it_as, Bleh, CSA, added_warning_i_forgot_earlier,
      including_the_rape/noncon_and_underage_bc_my_boy_has_trauma_and_thats
      brought_up, Florist_AU, Kinda
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-12-10 Updated: 2017-12-29 Chapters: 3/? Words: 5378
****** They Couldn't See Anything Else ******
by Cloud_(ImpartialPotential), ImpartialPotential
Summary
     Jack Kelly is just a traumatized guy trying to get bi.
     and also, he gets nude for money. a lot.
Notes
     the title is taken from a quote i found on google because im
     uncreative
     "Her nudity is her armor. It blinded the drooling fools. They
     couldn't see anything else while they saw her body." -Brent Weeks
***** Chapter 1 *****
Chapter by ImpartialPotential
Chapter Notes
     This chapter is fairly short (again, it's my first fic) so sorry
     about that
Jack shivered as the covering of snow crunched beneath the soles of his shoes
and the tires of his bike, his warm breath clouding up in the frigid air. It
was only November, but the temperature had dropped so much in the past couple
of weeks that Medda, Jack's adoptive mother, was always reminding him to wear
as many layers as possible. Jack compromised, wearing enough to keep him warm
while also being able to actually move around. No amount of body heat could
melt the snow under his feet though, and there was no way he was going to power
through riding his bike across campus in weather like this. He had decided to
bring his bike anyway, walking it across the school in case the sun warmed
everything up enough to turn the snow into slush so he could bike back to the
apartment he shared with Medda.
Jack chained his bike to the rack outside the visual arts classrooms. He walked
inside, cupping his gloved hands together and breathing into them in an attempt
to thaw his cold fingers. He started walking down the long hallway, looking to
his right for the door to his Figure Drawing class. Finally, he saw it. Looking
through the classroom door's small rectangular window, he saw that most of the
class was already seated in a semicircle with their drawing pads out, some
people talking quietly to each other. Jack put a hand on the cold door handle
and pushed his way inside.
"Sorry I'm late," he grinned, closing the door behind him "I didn't realize
there'd be this much snow; I had to walk here."
"It's alright, Jack." the teacher, Mr. Rhodes said with a tired but relieved
sigh as Jack walked across the classroom to put his backpack by the wall. "Give
me a heads up next time"
"Will do." Jack said with a lopsided grin, standing on one foot and leaning
against the wall as he pulled his shoes and socks off. He shed his jacket, then
the two sweaters under that. The sudden sensation of air on his skin made the
hairs on his arms rise with goosebumps, but the room itself was kept fairly
warm by a couple of space heaters pointed at the empty spot in front of the
semicircle of students. 3 months into this semester and Jack still wasn't
particularly close to anyone in here, not that he minded that much. Still, part
of him wished to be part of their conversations.
Jack took a deep breath, then slipped his shirt off and dropped it on the floor
next to his jacket and sweaters. He shivered, feeling exposed and cold. The
other students were still chatting, but moved their drawing pads closer as they
waited for him to get ready. Jack took off his belt and set it down on the
floor, then took his pants off. He took another deep breath, his skin starting
to flush at how exposed he was, then took off his boxers. Now completely nude,
Jack Kelly walked forward to stand in front of a semicircle of 15 or so
students who now hard their pencils ready and their attention on him. He pulled
a stool to the center of the semicircle and sat down as they got to work.
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter by ImpartialPotential
Chapter Summary
     Jack wakes up from a nightmare about his childhood and can't fall
     back asleep
Chapter Notes
     surprise surprise, Jack has some issues
     warning for mentions/allusions to childhood sexual abuse, child-on-
     child sexual abuse, rape, PTSD, etc
     again, sorry if this isn't the best so far!
Jack's eyes locked onto the cold, cruel blue eyes that peered into his soul
from above him.
He was kneeling on shag carpet in a dimly lit bedroom, 12 years old again. He
stared down at Jack with those evil eyes, while the other He pinned Jack's arms
behind his back, the cold edge of an old switchblade pressed against Jack's
neck he coughed and tried to catch his breath as the owner of the ice blue eyes
grinned with sharp, white teeth. A grey haze creeped over Jack's vision and his
head felt light as he started to lose consciousness.
Jack bolted upright in bed, shivering in a cold sweat and wheezing as he tried
to catch his breath. He coughed and rubbed his throat, feeling the phantom
sting of a knife against his skin. He was shaking, his teeth chattering, his
mind racing in a loop of memories from years ago. Jack took deep breaths,
trying to calm himself. He turned a bit and reached over to his nightstand to
check the time on his phone. 2:37 shone back in blinding light. Jack rubbed his
eyes and realized he had been crying, his cheeks hot and damp. He wiped his
face with the back of his hand and turned to hand his legs off the bed.
Jack was freezing, even wearing sweatpants and a thick sweatshirt with the
furnace on. He coughed into his elbow and stood up out of bed. He wanted to
just curl up in bed and hug himself and feel like shit, but on the other hand
he knew that sitting in the dark and crying would probably just make him feel.
He groaned and picked his phone back up to turn his wake-up alarms off, knowing
he'd never be able to go back to sleep now.
He set his phone back down and shuffled to his bedroom door, partially in a
daze. He felt numb as he walked down the cold hallway to the bathroom. He felt
filthy, stained, and he needed to be clean. Jack closed the bathroom door and
locked it, then turned the shower on. He sat down on the seat of the closed
toilet and put his head in his hands. His throat as still tight, and he felt
like he was choking. Steam from the shower was already starting to fog up the
bathroom mirror. He still wasn't warm, but he figured the water was hot enough
now.
Jack stood up and stripped down. He grimaced at the feeling of being naked,
funny how yesterday being this exposed in front of people had made him grin and
blush but today being naked in front of no one put him on the verge of breaking
down even further. He took a shaky breath and stepped into the hot water. It
was scalding, but the heat of it was the only sensation he could feel through
the numbness of his body.
Jack scrubbed and scrubbed under the downpour of heat, trying his hardest to
feel clean. He could no longer tell if he was crying or if that was the water
falling on his face. He stepped out of the stream of hot water, the whole
bathroom steamed up and his skin red. He inhaled another breath, less shaky
than before, and turned the water off. Jack stood there for a second, skin
tingling from the flush, before reaching a hand out from behind the shower
curtain and grabbing a towel from the rack. Jack patted his face dry, then
scrubbed the towel through his short hair to dry it.
Jack pulled back the shower curtain and stepped onto the floor. Wrapping the
towel around his waist, he turned to the bathroom sink to brush his teeth. He
gagged at the sensation of something in his mouth but he knew it wasn't smart
to ignore his health when he's upset. He picked his clothes up off the floor
and walked through the dark back to his room.
He tossed the towel and his clothes into the hamper by his door, then walked to
his dresser for a clean pair of boxers and a shirt. Jack picked at the bits of
paint dried into the threads of an old grey t-shirt before pulling it on along
with a pair of boxer briefs. Checking his phone for the time again, he sighed
as 3:02 stared back at him. He set down his phone and walked to the light
switch by the door, no point in sitting in the dark if he wasn't going to get
back to sleep.
"I hope I don't wake up Medda" he thought, walking back to his dresser to pick
up his laptop. Settling down on his bed with the computer in his lap, he booted
it up then started typing an email to Mr. Rhodes, rain-checking him on today's
figure drawing session.
I'm having a rough morning, I didn't sleep well and I'm going through some
rough stuff lately Jack typed I won't be able to come in today, and probably
for the next couple of days too. I'll keep you updated, but tbh I'll probably
be out of commission for the rest of the week.
Jack signed his name and hit send. He was exhausted, but going back to sleep
meant dreaming about it again and he wasn't going to entertain that thought for
even a second. Stifling a yawn, he opened up tumblr, intending to get lost
scrolling through memes and rants until the sun came up. The room was too quiet
for him, so he grabbed his headphones from the floor and plugged them into his
phone. He clicked on a noise generator app, his brain still too foggy to decide
on what music to listen to so he played thunder sound generator instead. Jack
breathed deeply as the sound of rumbling storms washed over him, he smiled
softly and returned to scrolling through his dashboard.
~~~~~
Medda knocked on Jack's door around 5:45. He jumped slightly, wide eyes glued
to the door.
Jack coughed. "Yeah?" he asked, uncertainty tinting his voice.
"You doin' alright sweetheart?" Medda asked softly from the other side of the
door.
"I've been better." Jack sighed "But I'm doing alright for now."
"Alright," Medda said a bit skeptically "Text me if you need anything."
"Mhmm." Jack replied. He heard Medda walk away, and he relaxed a bit. He didn't
realize how tense he felt talking to her. With a sigh, he slid his laptop onto
the bed and stood up. He groaned and stretched, his legs protesting with a
cramp. Jack rubbed his face with his hand and grabbed a pair of jeans from his
dresser. He nearly tripped getting his pants on, but he eventually succeeded.
He was getting cold again, but nowhere near as frigid as he was when he woke
up. He considered putting a sweater on, but decided against it. He wasn't in
the mood to have something around his wrists, even if it was just sleeves.
Jack made his way out of his room and into the kitchen. He nodded at Medda as
he passed her reading in the living room. With a yawn, he opened the fridge and
grabbed the carton of orange juice he saw. He shook it up and poured it into a
tall glass, then crushed the empty carton and put it in the trash. He sipped
his juice and looked around the kitchen, trying to figure out what to eat. He
grabbed a slice of white bread from the bag of bread sitting on the counter,
then made his way to the living room with his sad excuse for breakfast in his
hands. He plopped down next to Medda on the couch and rested his head gently on
her shoulder. The sound of him sipping on juice and her flipping pages was the
only disturbance in the calm room.
Jack didn't even realize he had drifted off until Medda gently nudged him
awake. She must've set his food somewhere else, his hands were empty now, and
he was leaning the other way now, onto the armrest of the couch. He rubbed his
eyes and yawned.
"I have to go to rehearsal." Medda said as she stood up "Are you gunna be okay
by yourself?"
"I'm fine, Medda," Jack said, quieter than he had meant to be. He smiled
softly.
"Uh-huh." Medda nodded skeptically with a smile. She took the dusty pink afghan
off the back of the couch and wrapped it around his shoulders, tenderly kissing
Jack on the top of his head. "I'm havin' dinner with some friends of mine after
rehearsal, so I'll be home late." she added with a pat on his shoulder. Jack
nodded quietly, and leaned forward to grab his orange juice and a battered copy
of Andy Weir's The Martian. He hadn't touched it in a few weeks, but he got
sucked back into the middle of Mark Watney trying to unfuck the situation he
was in.
He certainly wasn't feeling his best, but he was feeling better and that was a
start.
***** Chapter 3 *****
Chapter by ImpartialPotential
Chapter Summary
     Jack orders coffee and some flowers
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Jack woke up in the cold living room, still curled up on the couch with the
afghan wrapped around him. A golden beam of sunlight shone through the window
in front of him, landing on his face and warming him a bit. He kicked his legs
out and stretched with a yawn. Rubbing his eyes as he sat up, Jack scanned the
room for a second before remembering that Medda had already left.
He stood with a groan that turned into another big yawn, his copy of The
Martian tumbling off his lap to the floor. He picked up the book and set it on
the coffee table, then grabbed his mostly empty cup of juice and walked to the
kitchen to set it in the sink. He turned the faucet on, steaming water soon
pouring forth. With some dish soap and the green souring pad of a kitchen
sponge, Jack scrubbed his hands under the hot water till they were red. He
shook the water off his hands and gently patted them dry with a dish rag.
Part of him still felt wrong. It'd take at least a few hours, if not days, to
shake the thought that he was overreacting to what happened. Jack sighed and
rubbed his eyes again. Making his way out of the kitchen and back to his room,
he stretched his stiff arms and cracked his neck. Jack raked his fingers
through his hair as he grabbed his phone from where he left it on his bed,
picking up his headphones with it and putting them around his neck. He put his
phone in his pocket, along with his wallet and the keys to the apartment, then
tugged on a pair of thick green socks from his dresser and made his way back to
the front door to pull on his boots.
He pulled his coat on, then patted his pockets to check if his phone and wallet
and keys were still there. Finding everything in order, he walked back to his
room for what felt like the hundredth time in an hour to stuff his sketchbook
and laptop into the backpack now hanging from his shoulders. He flicked the
lights off in the apartment as he made his way out the front door, patting his
pockets again to make sure he didn't forget anything before locking the door
behind him.
It was still early, about 7 AM according to his phone, but Jack's mind was
nowhere near able to stand going to class. No, he wasn't planning on attending
class. He just had to get out of the apartment for a while, away from the still
air and quiet rooms and carpeted floors. He was headed towards the closest
place he could think of that rarely had one of those things; the Starbucks a
few blocks down the street.
Yesterday's snow had partly melted in the morning sun, turning into dirty grey
slush. It sloshed under Jack's boots as he trudged down the street. No new snow
was falling, at least not yet, but he still shivered in the crisp autumn air.
He was starting to regret not wearing a sweater under his jacket, but he didn't
want to bother turning back now. He could see the green and white sign of the
Starbucks just across the street, and he rushed through the crosswalk as the
light turned. As he stepped onto the curb and turned to the left, something in
the window of the store next to the Starbucks caught his eye.
The store had been vacant on and off for months, cafes and boutiques and such
coming and going but never staying. It'd been a little while since Jack came
down this way, but only a few weeks had passed since the last time he craved
coffee and a loud room. Now in front of him was a florist's shop, a little sign
in the window humbly announcing its opening last Monday. He smiled a little, he
was always happy to see flower arrangements bringing a bit of color to the grey
drab of the city, but he walked past the door of the flower shop and into the
clamor of Starbucks on a weekday morning.
It was hot and loud, but not too crowded. Jack took his place at the back of
the line, six or so people in front of him. As the line inched forward slowly,
Jack rocked back and forth on his heels to mind the time. He heard the door
open and felt the cool outside air whoosh in, making the hairs on his neck
stand on end. The door didn't close immediately though, and Jack turned in
curiosity to see what the hold up was.
The hold up was, in fact, a man holding the door for a rather petite boy with
elbow crutches. Jack didn't mean to stare, but something about the boy's
grateful smile struck a chord with him, how the corners of his eyes creased and
his nose wrinkled. Jack felt like he could stare at that smile for centuries
and never tire of it. The boy turned, his gaze meeting Jack's as he took his
place in line. Jack turned quickly and awkwardly, he could feel his cheeks
starting to warm as a blush started to betray him. The boy didn't say anything,
just shuffled forward as the line moved up again.
Now that the door was closed again, the heat was returning to the room. The
line was starting to move faster, and the population of the room was shrinking
as people picked up their coffee and left. Now it was Jack, the woman in front
of him, a couple waiting for their coffees, the stranger who had held the door
open, and the boy with the crutches. The woman finished ordering what sounded
like an office coffee run (she had ordered around six different drinks), and
Jack took her place in front of the cashier.
Jack smiled politely at the cashier, ordered a grande black coffee, and gave
the cashier his money and name. He was stuffing his change into his wallet when
he noticed the donation box on the counter. It was for a local children's
hospital, a clear plastic box with the logo of the hospital printed on the
stickers plastered to the sides and top of it. The sad smile of a bald kid
stared back at him, compelling Jack to stuff a $5 bill into the slot on the top
of the box.
He set his backpack down on the floor as he sat down at a table against the
wall, next to the front window looking out onto the street. It didn't take long
for the barista to call his name, and he stood and grabbed it from the counter.
He set it down on the table as he sat, then pulled out his laptop again,
connecting to the cafe's wifi. There was a new email in his inbox. He opened
it, and relaxed at Mr. Rhodes's reply to his earlier email; Don't worry about
coming in today. it said Just take care of yourself. See you on Monday. Jack
sipped his coffee as he checked tumblr again, finding nothing new that piqued
his interest. He stifled another yawn, drowning it with another sip of coffee.
It burned, but Jack Kelly is not a patient man. With a small shrug, Jack opened
up DeviantArt. He mainly used it as a way to publish his art, trying to get
commissions, but again there was nothing new for him to care about, save for a
few challenges that were recently posted. Maybe he'd do one of those later.
The door opened again, and his eyes were drawn reflexively to the movement. The
kid with the crutches was leaving, carrying his drink with the thumb, index,
and middle finger of his left hand like a claw machine so he could still use
his palm, pinkie, and ring finger to grip the handle of his crutch. Jack's mood
fell a bit watching the guy leave, his gaze lingering on the kid's back as he
crutched down the sidewalk. Jack's eyebrows raised slightly in surprise as the
blond boy turned and walked into the florist shop that had caught his interest
not long ago. Was he getting flowers for someone? How would he even carry them,
with his hands already occupied with his crutches? Jack tried his best to shrug
it off by taking another sip of coffee and returning his gaze to his laptop.
Again, nothing new caught his eye. He shut his laptop with a sigh, then checked
the time on his phone. 7:27. Jack huffed, the morning seemed to drag of for
ages.
He drummed his fingers on the table, eyebrows furrowed in thought, trying to
figure out what to do next. Jack returned his laptop to his backpack, slung it
over his shoulders once again, and grabbed his coffee. As he pushed out the
door, the crisp sting of late autumn numbed his ears. He inhaled deeply, then
turned toward the new floristry shop. A quick check of the store's hours on the
door told him that it was open, and as he pushed in the gentle perfume of
dozens of varieties of flowers filled his lungs. He couldn't even see the
clerk's counter, the store was so densely filled with plants and flower
arrangements. He shuffled his weight between his feet, awkwardly playing with
the strap of his backpack and looking around before taking a step deeper into
the forest of flowers.
Jack knew jack about flowers. He knew the basic ones, roses and daisies and
stuff, but no clue about what the flower he was nose deep in was named. It had
6 petals, long and arranged like the arms of a star. They belled outwards sort
of like a trumpet, and each petal was white with a speckled blush of pink down
the center. The smell was faint and sweet, angelic in the way vanilla candles
could only dream of. Each flower had a long, slender stem settled together in a
simple cylindrical black vase on the shelf.
"You like lilies?" The question startled Jack, who jumped with a short yelp. He
whipped around, right hand dramatically grabbing his shirt over his heart, left
hand clutching the shelf the lilies sat on. The blond kid was grinning at him
from a stool behind the counter, visibly stifling giggles . He had swapped his
jacket for a green apron.
Jack's heart skipped a beat, but he figured it was cause of the fright the kid
gave him. "I uhh,," Jack cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck "I
don't know a thing about flowers. I was just uh, perusing..." The kid—no, the
florist—made an amused noise and sipped his coffee with a slight smirk.
Florist guy set down his coffee and leaned forward on the counter on his
elbows. "Just perusing? Or are you actually going to buy something." The
question hung in the air for a second as Jack looked around considering it.
"Sure," Jack said with a shrug "Medda keeps saying our apartment is getting
gloomy."
"Medda?" Florist guy asked, slipping off the stool and grabbing his crutches.
"They your roommate or something?"
"Oh she's something alright," Jack chuckled as Florist Guy crutched over.
"Yeah, she's my roommate. She's at work right now and won't be home till late
tonight, I figured I'd spruce up our living room or something instead of
sitting at home being emo." Jack grinned.
Florist Guy laughed softly, and god if Jack swear he had died on his walk to
get coffee and that room then was heaven, this angel laughing with him
surrounded by flowers. Jack flushed and cleared his throat. "So, uh, flowers?"
Smooth, Kelly, real smooth. "I mean, what would you recommend this time of
year?"
Florist Guy bit his lip, his eyes wandering in thought. Fuck he's cute when he
does that Jack thought. "Lilies are always popular, and it looked like you
liked those, so how about we start there?" Florist Guy asked, looking back into
Jack's eyes with his eyebrows raised.
"Sounds good." Jack said, forcing his eyes to wander around the other foliage
to avoid staring at Florist Guy's eyes. Florist Guy's beautiful, warm eyes.
"Alright, can you grab them for me? Just grab the vase," Florist Guy ordered
and crutched toward the back of the store to grab a block of green foam. Jack
grabbed the flowers like he was asked, and set the vase on an open spot on the
counter. Florist Guy walked over, his left crutch tucked under his armpit and
the foam in his left hand, using his right crutch like a cane. Florist guy set
the foam on the counter—Jack now noticed it was soaking wet—then pulled open a
drawer to rifle through it for what looked to Jack like a box cutter and
scissors of some kind. Florist Guy set them down on the counter and pulled his
stool closer so he could sit down and work. Florist Guy settled back onto his
seat and looked up at Jack. "I was thinking some roses?" Florist Guy asked,
"These lilies would probably go well with orange, or maybe lavender? Oh! Or,"
he said, pointing excitedly in the direction of the front window, "we just got
a shipment of carnations."
Florist Guy was grinning expectantly at Jack, who blinked back. Boy this kid
talks fast when he's excited. "Uhh," Jack managed to find his voice, "whatever
you think looks good I guess, I'm no florist."
Florist Guy laughed softly again, and Jack found himself laughing with him. He
hadn't meant to be funny, but this guy's happiness was infectious. "If you
would be so kind," Florist Guy said with a gesture toward the front window,
"grab the carnations from the shelf up front."
Jack did as Florist Guy commanded, and walked through the colorful forest of
shelves up to the front, where he found several vases of flowers labeled
carnations, similar to the vases the lilies were in. "You want the white ones
or the red ones?" Jack called over to the counter.
"Actually, can you bring both?" Florist Guy called back. Jack made an 'mhmm'
noise and grabbed both vases before making his way back to the counter. Florist
Guy had wheeled over a cart of vases filled with roses of all different colors,
and he was now shaving the green block of foam to fit in the nicer vase he had
picked for Jack's flowers. Jack set the carnations on the counter.
When Florist Guy had the foam settled snugly in the vase, picked through the
vase of lilies for a suitable couple of flowers. Finding several to his liking,
he pulled the long stems from their vases and set them on the counter.
"So, you got a name?" Jack asked, casually leaning against the counter like
this guy didn't make him red as a fire hydrant.
Florist Guy didn't look up as he snipped the stem to a manageable length.
"Crutchie." he said with a small smile.
"What?"
Florist Guy looked up at him then. "I said my name's Crutchie. On account of me
being on crutches."
"Well yeah I know why you're called that," Jack said awkwardly, "but why that?
Don't you have a normal name?" Jack regretted his choice of words as soon as he
said them, seeing Florist Guy—Crutchie—stiffen at the question. "God that came
out wr—"
"Don't." Crutchie cut him off, "Don't stick on why I go by that." He reoccupied
his hands with the arrangement, sticking the stems of the lilies into the vase,
then sorting through carnations to find some nice ones to go around them.
"Whats yours?"
"Hm?" Jack quirked an eyebrow. "Oh, right, names. I'm Jack." Goddamn this was
getting even more awkward. If earlier had been heaven, Jack had thrown himself
off the puffy white clouds and straight into the suffering pits of hell.
Alright, maybe that was a bit hyperbolic, but Jack wasn't one to downplay
neither good nor bad.
Crutchie stuck some dark pink roses in the gaps between the lilies and
carnations. "Mhmm." he said absentmindedly. Jack drummed his fingers the
counter, his eyes wandering awkwardly again.
"Are you a student?" Jack attempted to change the subject.
"Yeah, yeah I am," Crutchie said, breaking his focus on the flowers. "I want to
be a teacher maybe, I've always liked kids." He smiled softly in thought before
picking up a rose and turning the vase to find a spot for it.
"Really? I wouldn't have pinned that on you," Jack smirked.
"Why's that?" Crutchie glanced at him.
"I don't know," Jack shrugged, "I figured you'd be some kind of horticulture
student or something. You're a florist, I figured plants were your thing"
"I get that," Crutchie said. "Speaking of plants, your arrangement is done."
Jack took a look at it, realizing he'd spent the whole time either gazing at
Crutchie's face or awkwardly looking around the shop. It was beautiful, the
white and pink lilies he'd looked at earlier surrounded by red and white
carnations and dark pink roses. The lip of the white vase was lined with dark
green ferns, their fronds curling elegantly around the vase. More ferns were
added throughout to break up the monochromatic swath of color.
"It looks great," Jack said.
Crutchie nodded in agreement and started ringing Jack up. "That'll be $24.99,"
Crutchie said matter-of-factly.
Jack's eyebrows shot up. "That much for a bunch of flowers?"
Crutchie shrugged. "It's fall, prices are higher right now cause it's harder to
grow good flowers around this time of year. We're actually on the cheaper end
of the scale"
"Yeah, guess that makes sense," Jack said, pulling out his wallet and handing
Crutchie a twenty and a ten. Crutchie took the money and started sorting
through the change.
Jack pulled the arrangement to his side of the counter and took his change from
Crutchie with a smile. He stuffed the money into his wallet, then the wallet
into his pocket, then picked up the vase carefully.
"See you around, I guess," Jack smiled.
"See you," Crutchie waved as Jack walked out the door.
Jack checked his phone for the time when he got outside. 8:57. Had he really
spent an hour and a half talking to some guy about plants? He was actually
mildly surprised, he thought that had taken a lot longer than it had, and yet
he wanted for it to keep going even longer. Jack felt like could've spent hours
talking to Crutchie about whatever came to mind. He shoved his phone back in
his pocket and walked across the crosswalk, heading back to the apartment.
The sun was finally starting to warm everything, and he felt its light melting
into him. He smiled and walked along, encumbered by the vase of flowers in his
arms but glad his morning was becoming somewhat less awful. Dare he say, there
might even be a skip in his step. He rushed through the door of his building,
up the stairs to his apartment, unlocked the door in a happy rush, and stood in
his living room looking for a spot for the flowers.
He chewed his lip thoughtfully for a second, walking around slowly looking for
a place for the vase. He spotted the perfect home for the vase, a table under
the sunny window next to Medda's favorite reading chair. Jack set the vase down
carefully, turning it so the best side was facing the living room. He smiled at
it, a small oasis of color in their cold living room. He was already starting
to feel better.
Chapter End Notes
     HI IM SORRY ITS BEEN LIKE 3 WEEKS SINCE I LAST UPDATED I WRITE SLOWLY
     AND I WANTED TO MAKE THIS GOOD, PLUS I HAD FINALS AND CHRISTMAS AND
     SEEING FAMILY AND TWO BIRTHDAYS TO DEAL WITH AND JSKJWDDKJH POINT IS
     HERES YOUR GAY
     also woops this also ended up with a florist au
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