Letters To You // Eyeless Jack x Reader

Talk//33

Talk: Speak in order to give information or express ideas or feelings; converse or communicate by spoken words.
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"Yeah, Oliver and I used to play with mud when we were younger. We'd make sculptures out of it and Oliver's would always be better. My parents thought it was gross, but they still let us play."

"I didn't take you for someone who would enjoy getting filthy."

The lights illuminating the forest path were the only thing keeping them company. Jack and (Y/N) decided that it would be smart to take a walk late at night in the middle of winter.

They were wrong.

While Jack was more used to the cold night weather, (Y/N) wasn't really prepared. Even if she was well dressed, with almost three layers of clothing on her, she still shivered from time to time.

They weren't deep into the forest, Jack had told her that it would be better to stay on the path, near the apartment - even if
it would potentially put him in danger if someone happens to also walk around in the middle of the night.

She didn't know the exact reason, but something told her that it had to do with the thing that attacked Jack back then. He called it "The Rake", which she found funny at first, considering that it shared the name with a gardening tool.

It made sense though, apparently the creature had claws that were similar to rakes, hence the name. Jack's wounds also proved that theory so (Y/N) didn't feel the need to question it any further.

"I was a kid and my parents let me be creative. I mean, it wasn't hurting anyone – actually, it hurt their pockets because they'd have to buy a lot of detergent, but it wasn't that bad."

"So why didn't you pursue art?"

"I liked books more. I remember playing teacher with myself and imaginary students, and I would always read them books. Hell, all that reading made me develop love for writing too."

The scenery was pretty, even if it was dark outside. Due to the light, the snow on branches gave an interesting glow, or rather sparkles that made It look like those effects in cartoons.

Besides the nature's beauty was an even more mesmerizing view, and she didn't even notice how she stared at the masked man.

"Well, it was a good choice. Books suit you well."

It was something about the way he talked that made her body feel warm. It suddenly felt like summer, and she was afraid that she knew why. His voice matched his looks, but it was a shame that she couldn't see how would the poor light illuminate his face and mix it together with the sound of his voice due to his mask.

He must've been a real heartthrob back when he was a human.

"Thank you. I'm hoping that one day I'll be able to write a book, but shh – I haven't told anyone about it yet."

His sudden head turn towards her made (Y/N) shiver. The way he towered over her reminded her just how tall he was and how fragile she looked next to him.

"So I'm the first one hearing about this huh?" he chuckled, "What an honor."

If she had to pinpoint the exact way his voice sounded, she'd say he sounds like Alex Turner, minus the British accent. It was hard to think or speak, the way he talked was just too loud even if he was whispering.

"I guess you are, aren't you?"

Her voice was giving out on her, her speech becoming slower. She knew that it was because of the way he spoke and looked over her, but she can always blame it on the cold.

"What's wrong? Where'd your cheerfulness go all of a sudden?"

"I'm just a little cold, and it's late."

Throwing in a little shudder for the convenience of it, (Y/N) averted her gaze to the path in front of her, avoiding Jack's staring. She heard the commotion coming from him, but didn't look his way. It was only when she felt the weight of something cover her that made her realize what he had been doing.

Did he just?

"Oh."

The jacket she had bought for him rested on her shoulders, warmth spreading all over. It felt nice in contrast to the awfully cold weather, but it also opened up a pit in her stomach. Each and every day (Y/N) would question the nice things Jack would do around her considering that he was a cold blooded murderer. It was rather weird.

"I'm used to the cold and I want us to walk a little longer before heading back, so have the jacket."

"Thank you but you didn't have to-"

"I'd rather have you covered than complaining. So don't mention it."

Have mercy on me.

The whole scene felt like one of those romance movies, and she didn't know if she should scream or bash her head with a rock. (Y/N) seemed to forget who Jack really was in moments like these, and every time she'd remember – it would hit her like a truck.

The conversation later on continued somewhat normally. Hadn't it been cold, Jack would probably see through her right away, all those vocabulary errors and slowed speech wouldn't make so much sense if it were warm outside.

(Y/N) wanted to make her mind think about something else, but his voice sounded much louder in her ears than her own thoughts.

They ended up walking a little longer before they turned back and went home. The girl felt relief as soon as she entered her room and sprawled across her bed, finally in a place she could think properly.

But the thoughts aren't always pleasant.

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Hi everyone! This is a shorter chapter than usual, but I've been busy so it'll do. I just want to say one more time that I really do appreciate all the comments and I read them, I just don't respond to all mostly since it can get a little overwhelming - I hope you folks understand. Feel free to leave as many as you want but please don't take it to heart if I don't respond or anything - rest assured that I have definitely read it though :)
That's all, have a wonderful day/night and remember to take care of yourselves!