[ food. making food. jack knows how to make one thing, and that is scrambled eggs with way too much butter, and besides that, he has never fed himself in his life, outside of an MRE. he's standing in the grocery store, looking over vegetables (fucking vegetables? really? what do you even do with these?), and about ready to just march out of here and order take out, when some asshole elbows him. seriously? the entire wide as hell aisle in this section and you had to invade his space?
jack's wiping around, about ready to beam someone with the artichoke he's been holding on to for nearly a full minute, opens his mouth to say something impossibly rude, but his voice dies abruptly in his throat.
David. That's David. David fucking Shepherd.
But that's not just David, that's David Shepherd, having just brushed right past him, kissing another man, in the middle of a populated grocery store. They're still moving away from him, and the artichoke has slipped from his hand onto the floor, as he gapes at their backs. he's in shock, not sure what to think of it, how to make sense of it, but his tendency for mood swings seems to take over the reaction part for him. his body lurches forward, covering the distance with a few long strides, and grips David's (not-David's) bicep, jerking him around to face him. ]
David, you fucking liar. [ he seethes, out, teeth bared, but his head is shaking, lips almost pulling into a smile at how hilariously appropriate this is. ] I actually believed you. Me. I actually thought you came to Shiloh wide-eyed and innocent and painfully, stupidly good, but you hid better than I ever could. And my sister?
[ he barks a laugh, something abrupt and completely devoid of actual humor. all this time - the relationship with michelle, the seemingly innocent love for her, playing it off like it had absolutely nothing to do with the crown, and here he is, kissing a man with no thought of Michelle whatsoever. he'd played them. it had to be. ] It's honestly kind of perfect. You know, I'd give you kudos if I didn't feel like ripping your head off your shoulders right now.
[ even in this, creating a farce to hide behind, david still managed to beat him. ]
weeps into hands, i'm so sorry
jack's wiping around, about ready to beam someone with the artichoke he's been holding on to for nearly a full minute, opens his mouth to say something impossibly rude, but his voice dies abruptly in his throat.
David. That's David. David fucking Shepherd.
But that's not just David, that's David Shepherd, having just brushed right past him, kissing another man, in the middle of a populated grocery store. They're still moving away from him, and the artichoke has slipped from his hand onto the floor, as he gapes at their backs. he's in shock, not sure what to think of it, how to make sense of it, but his tendency for mood swings seems to take over the reaction part for him. his body lurches forward, covering the distance with a few long strides, and grips David's (not-David's) bicep, jerking him around to face him. ]
David, you fucking liar. [ he seethes, out, teeth bared, but his head is shaking, lips almost pulling into a smile at how hilariously appropriate this is. ] I actually believed you. Me. I actually thought you came to Shiloh wide-eyed and innocent and painfully, stupidly good, but you hid better than I ever could. And my sister?
[ he barks a laugh, something abrupt and completely devoid of actual humor. all this time - the relationship with michelle, the seemingly innocent love for her, playing it off like it had absolutely nothing to do with the crown, and here he is, kissing a man with no thought of Michelle whatsoever. he'd played them. it had to be. ] It's honestly kind of perfect. You know, I'd give you kudos if I didn't feel like ripping your head off your shoulders right now.
[ even in this, creating a farce to hide behind, david still managed to beat him. ]