Day 13: In Which He's Hiding Something

Elsa was just finishing the nightly inspection of her plants when he strolled outside, snacking on a cured sausage and tipping his black hat at her in greeting.

"Evening, Elsa," he mumbled with his mouth full of half-chewed meat.

She looked at him with an arched eyebrow. "You're eating a sausage."

"I sure am."

She couldn't quite see his eyes, and it unsettled her. Jack was the kind of person who spoke a thousand words with his eyes alone, and not being able to read him fully made her disconcerted.

"And you're wearing a hat," she stated with a frown.

Jack chuckled. "Yes, another astute observation."

"Shut up," Elsa grumbled.

Jack kept munching on his food, and her displeased grunts only fueled him to make an even bigger spectacle out of eating that single piece of meat.

She glowered at him. "Can you stop that?"

"Stop what? Eating?" He snorted. "Who's fat-shaming who now?"

"I'm not—I seriously hope your diet consists of more than processed meat and carbs."

"I'm pretty sure I ate a piece of carrot yesterday… or was it the day before?"

"Oh, God…" She mumbled, dropping herself on the nearest chair. She arched an eyebrow at him as she crossed her arms. "So what's the story behind the hat?"

He shrugged. "I'm making a fashion statement."

"I thought you didn't care about your appearance while on house arrest."

Jack leaned against the railing, smirking at her. "Okay, so maybe I'm trying to impress you."

"And you figured a fedora would help?"

A moment of uncertainty crossed his smug expression. "...Yeah?"

She sighed. "Between the sausage and the hat, I can't tell which is worse. I honestly would rather see you without the hat... and the sausage, for that matter."

Propping himself on his elbows, his hands ran to rub the back of his neck. "You say that because you don't know what's hiding underneath the hat."

Elsa frowned. "Your hair? We've been through this: you pull off the strategically disarrayed hairstyle with ease. Own it."

Jack rubbed his eyes, accidentally crooking his hat to the side in the process. "Yeah, that was before…"

"Before what?"

"See, my hair kept falling in my eyes…"

Elsa sucked in a breath of apprehension. "Oh, no…"

"And I had scissors."

"You did not."

"I kinda did." He flashed a sheepish smile at her.

"Oh, Jack." Elsa's eyes softened, and she got on her feet to stand across from him. "I'm sure it's not that bad."

Jack straightened up. "Yeah? Would you go out in public with this hair?"

He ripped his hat off, presenting her with his new haircut. It was… amateur, to say the least.

Elsa bit her lower lip in order to maintain her serious façade. "We're not allowed to go out in public right now," she reminded him.

He crossed his arms and glowered at her. "You know what I mean."

She shrugged. "Tell you what, if your hair still looks like that when the quarantine is over, you and I can go out for a nice glass of wine or something so you know I'm not lying when I say this: it's not that bad."

Jack's eyes narrowed. "Are you serious?"

"I mean, cutting a straight line across your forehead was a bold move, but at least it's got personality." She smirked, the teasing nature of her expression much like his usual one.

"Okay, now you're fucking with me."

Elsa laughed wholeheartedly.

"Whatever gave you that idea?"