“Here ya’ go.” he said as he placed a cigarette between your lips. he then lit up a cigarette for himself.

it was a sad night. you were sitting on the porch of Beecher’s Hope staring into the moon. the humidity in the air was keeping you fresh, but it was relaxing in a way. Jack had his hand on yours.

“I just think it’s not worth living anymore. I revenged my father, but i’m still sad.” he says looking at your face. “I can’t even pick up a book anymore. I’m not myself anymore.”