I'm soooo sorry about the late update. My internet stopped working! But here's the next chapter. I'm not all that happy with this one and I cut it short just to update. This is more filler than anything.

But thank you RoseShaow1917 for bugging me to get it done!

…..

The urge to peek in my book that Jack had started his drawing in is unbelievably strong. Especially because I've been up all night, drunk with joy. I had to force myself to open a new blank book so I could relive the days wondrous events. I decided that I will give mother her gift tomorrow, just in case Jack is around to see her reaction.

I want to give something to him. He has given me flight and memories that I will never forget. I begin to wonder if Jack can be tattooed like North, but quickly withdraw that notion. Nothing screams crazed, obsessed girlfriend better than suggesting getting tattoos together after only 10 hours of being together. Besides, his skin is perfect in every possible way.

Jack has told me about the Man in the Moon. How the large ball in the sky had chosen him, how he speaks to all the guardians. I often find myself staring out my bedroom window, curious if Manny, as North calls him, will ever speak to me. It's silly but I think everyone at some point likes to think that they have magical powers too.

Sleep sneaks up on me somewhere in between 3 and 5 am. Thank goodness Monday is my day off.

Mother is gone to work by the time I get myself out of bed, but she has made me some eggs for breakfast with a pleasant note saying, "Good morning! I'll be back in time for dinner tonight (yay!) so go through the take out menus and pick what you want! Love you Sophie!"

Looks like we're having Thai tonight. Between the two of us, Thai food is the most agreeable since we both like the same things and don't have to order 5 different dishes.

I scratch my shoulder while I'm heating up the eggs. It feels like I've been bitten by something. I make a mental note to vacuum up any pesky bugs I find in my room today.

After eating breakfast I go back up to my room and set up a canvas on my easel. I sit on my stool and stare at the whiteness.

I stare and stare and stare. I think it's been a good twenty minutes now and I haven't come up with anything. I could repaint any of the drawings I made last night, but I feel like I should be making something new.

I pick up my brush and coat it in a soft orangey-pink colour and I let my hand wander across the canvas as it pleases. I incorporate blues and greens and even some yellow. I don't know what it is that made me think of this, but my face is colourfully painted, tears running down my cheeks but I am smiling a sort of grieved smile.

It makes me sad. Like I've lost something or have made a wrong choice. But I continue on and before I know it, the painting is turning into something a bit…strange. My eyes have turned into a hurt expression with shadows underneath them as if I have not slept in days. My smile has turned more upwards, in more of a laugh.

Seeing what the picture has turned into, I stop and put my paints and brushes away. It's just too depressing.

I have and urgent need to fill my time with something more pleasant. I think of seeking Jack out if he's around and get him to take me to the pond so that he can freeze the water for me. I like skating, there's just something about gliding over smooth ice that makes it gratifying.

But first. I have bugs to exterminate.

I turn on my music, set to the loudest volume possible and get to work. I look in every nook and cranny I can find and suck up even the tiniest of spiders that have taken up shelter in my room. I'll be damned if I live with biting spiders.

I take to wiggling a little bit to the music while vacuuming. The wiggling eventually turns into full blown dancing. I'm hoping around and singing along with the song and it helps me forget my most recent painting.

I'm just starting to work up a sweat when I've finished my job. Aahh, I think, that's better.

The music seems almost too loud now, so when I turn it off the silence is deafening. I'm still singing while I put the vacuum away and return to my room. I choke mid lyric though when I see Jack, pencil firmly gripped in his hand and his tongue sticking out in concentration as he continues where he left off with his drawing.

Without looking up, Jack jokingly says to me, "No, please, keep singing. I think you're about two songs away from signing a record label."

Lord. My singing is horrible, like nails on a chalkboard. I know this, and yet I still seem to think it's appropriate for me to sing out loud.

I groan and flop down on my bed next to Jack, suddenly exhausted from lack of sleep and my dance workout. I decide to turn the tables.

Poking Jack on the back of his head, I ask, "So when's that drawing of yours going to be finished, huh?"

Jack catches my hand and turns his face to kiss my knuckles. "Have a little patience. This is a very delicate operation I'm commencing here." He smiles at me and closes the book.

Something boils inside me when Jack turns over and leans over top of me, his legs spread to either side of my hips, his hands next to my head. His playful smirk has me on edge. I've thought about sex with Jack before, what I think it would be like. But those thoughts at the time felt like something in my wildest dreams that ought never to happen.

Jack leans down, like he's about to kiss me, but something stops him. His eyes slide over to my half covered shoulder and he lifts his hand away from my face to pull the rest of my tank strap off.

This isn't quite how I pictured sex going.

"What's this?" Jack asks, nodding to my shoulder.

"Just a bug bite I think," I shrug, a little deflated at the wasted moment.

"I don't know, do bug leave bruises?" Jack sits on me a little and uses his other hand to turn my chin so that I'm looking at my shoulder.

Holy, "That was definitely not there this morning."

Jack moves off me as I sit up to examine the purple-almost black-bruise. It still itched too.

"Maybe I scratched it too hard," I say, shrugging again. This doesn't concern me too much, I'm an easy bruiser. "Hey, by the way," I turn to look at Jack, "will you be around tonight?"

"Hmm?" Jack has this weird, serious look on his face, and he isn't looking at me. I've never seen him like this. He seems strung up all of a sudden. "Uh, sorry, Sophie. I'm going to go see North tonight," he makes a small smile appear on his face though it doesn't reach his eyes. "I won't be back till early morning I think."

"Oh, ok," I'm a little more disappointed than I should be. It's really not that big of a deal if Jack isn't here tonight. I will live.

With a sneaky smile, I stand up and quickly sit in Jacks lap, my arms going around his neck. He barely has time to register what's happening before I kiss his lips fiercely. My hands slide down and up his clothed back, and I feel his hands move their way up my thighs, stopping at the skin exposed between my jeans and shirt.

I'm in a brave mood, so I reach under his sweater and touch his bare back. Jacks skin is just as cool here as his hands are. I love it. I love the feel of him on my palms and I love the welcoming shudder that Jack makes.

Jack has hitched my tank top up a little, his icy hands grabbing at my hips, when he seems to remember something. His lips slow down the fevered movement that had matched mine until he's sweetly leaving little kisses on my cheeks, nose and neck.

Inside I am rolling my eyes at yet another wasted moment.

"I have to go," Jack whispers.

"I don't want you to," I breathily say back.

Jack huffs a small laugh and kisses my collar bone. "The sooner I leave the sooner I'll be back."

"Gah!" I take my hands out from under his sweater in defeat. "Fine, go have your fun with North." I say in a mock upset tone. "Bring me back a cookie while you're at it."

Jack flips us around so that he's once again over top of me, but this time he's floating an inch above me. "I'd bring you back his palace if I could," his lips are brushing mine as he romances me into forgiveness.

I let him kiss me twice before I watch him disappear through the window.

Sighing heavily, I look at the time. Mother will be home in 2 hours. I'm not quite sure what to do with myself until then. I'm still not in the mood for anymore painting, and the house is clean for the most part. Watching tv doesn't really do anything for me, so that's out.

A walk, yeah, I'll go for a walk. I take off my jeans in favour for a pair of shorts; the weather is still stiflingly warm and I don't feel like chaffing in jeans.

I grab my mother's cellphone. I'm in the middle of saving up for my own phone because mother always told me to work for the things I want.

"Aahhh," I breathe in the fresh air now that I'm out of the house. Despite it being warm, the weather is perfect.

I can't decide which way to go, there's only left or right. So I pick up a stick and throw it into the air and wait for it to land on either side of the crack serving as a divider on the sidewalk.

The stick lands just a little to the left of the crack. Left I go then. That's fine by me, the streets to the left take me further away from the city, away from the noise. It bothers me how noisy people can be. Car horns honking, people yelling across streets, wild children who need discipline. I like the quiet, it's soothing and it lets my imagination run free.

I start turning down streets that have less and less traffic than the last. It takes me about 15 minutes until I'm out of town completely and I reach the pond that lay in the forest; I'm a slow walker.

I suppose the subconscious decision to come here had already been made the second the stick landed. I like it here, not a whole lot of people come here anymore though I'm not sure why. The way the water reflects the sun makes the leaves on the trees sparkle like emeralds. The flowers that grow in the summer are varied roses and tulips and, briefly, lilacs. And it all smells so good.

Picking up a large leaf I kneel beside the pond. Little tadpoles swim around the lily pads and the water skimmers glide quickly over the surface. I start tearing up the leaf and throwing the bits into the water, watching as tiny fish nip at the pieces, thinking that its food.

While I'm sitting by the pond I can't shake the feeling that I'm being watched. I peek out of the corner of my eyes in different directions, but there's no one else here. I could just be imagining things, but the prickle in the back of my neck keeps me on edge. The fact that there's no sound makes this even more eerie.

It's when my eyes graze over a curiously shadowed area that my shoulder suddenly starts burning and itching intensely. I try to scratch it to see if that would relieve the itchiness but my skim screams at the touch. What the hell is this?

Looking back up where the shadow was, I find that it's gone. And just as quickly my shoulder stops burning. This is just so weird. It could've been a coincidence, maybe with the sun starting to go down it's throwing around funny shadows, and my shoulder just happened to hurt at the same time.

Maybe I should get my shoulder checked out, I think. I've seen bug bites when they get nasty, some people have had to get their limbs removed and I kind of like my limbs attached.

….

Thanks for reading!