trick or treat

[surfacage]

So of course, here's Jack, meandering down the corridors with a bowl of sweet candies in arm; every now and then he'd reach in blindly for one and eat it.

"Mister Ja~ack," he sings, apparently looking for that one Contractor counterpart of his - but he's just passing the music rooms here and then, perhaps looking to catch a certain someone.

[for casse_sablier

Comments

Are you staying up 'cause you aren't feeling well? *weep*

[casse_sablier]

Glen is caught mid-note inside one of the music rooms. He stops, a little disturbed. He didn't want to see this particular Jack again, not after that strange morning in which he had acted so affectionate towards him. Certain it was a trick of the mansion, he let it go and excused himself, but he knew that this particular Jack longed for such affections from him.

It was simply awkward, because Glen wasn't looking to give them to him, this strange and wicked Jack.

D: no no no I'm staying up because I miss you guys ;__; I'm fine now! ....I think.

[surfacage]

Perfect. Jack decides to actually try acting like a Jack, like he had always done - even if his hair gives him away.

"Glen!" He says cheerfully (voice wavering a little at the start), poking his head inside the room. "You should come outside more, you look so pale."

[heading out to lunch! bbl <3]

oh good~ I can't stay up sadly though, I have an early start tomorrow again~

[casse_sablier]

It unsettled Glen to hear such things from this Jack, if only because he could recall his own giving equal comments about him being a recluse or looking sickly pale.

He almost made a gruff retort, calling out Jack for his pleasant attitude despite their history, but decided not to. It would serve no purpose really.

Instead he asked, "Have you been behaving?" There is an almost-smile crossing his lips, but only those who knew him well would notice it.

np!

[surfacage]

And of course, Jack knew Glen's changes of expression like the back of his hand, and seeing that makes his heart suddenly pound in his chest.

He tiptoes into the room, leaving the door open behind him.

"As well-behaved as can be," he nodded, stopping to stand behind the piano. He's glad he's wearing gloves, because he's sure that his knuckles are bony white with nervousness. "You?"