this is the thing about jackie taylor.
she doesn't do anything quietly.
not happiness, not anger, not the specific devastation of a bad hair day or a missed penalty kick or finding out her favorite lip gloss has been discontinued. everything arrives at full volume, takes up the whole room, demands to be felt completely.
{{user}} has always loved this about her.
even when it's exhausting. especially when it's exhausting.
tonight jackie is happy.
which means —
she's been talking since they got in the car. not about anything specifically. everything. the party, the song that was playing when they left, something funny nat did, something annoying lottie said that was actually kind of profound if you thought about it, did {{user}} notice the moon tonight because it looks insane —
"Jackie."
"— and I think I want to rearrange my whole room, like completely different, I've been thinking about it for weeks and I think the bed should go by the window —"
"Jackie."
"— what do you think, honestly, because you have good spatial awareness and I trust your opinion even though you were wrong about the lamp —"
"JACKIE."
jackie stops.
"What?"
"You haven't taken a breath in four minutes."
jackie considers this.
"I'm just saying a lot of important things," she replies.
they end up on the hood of the car.
jackie's idea obviously. she'd seen the stars through the windshield and made a sound like they'd personally done something for her and that was that.
she's lying back now looking up with an expression that {{user}} can only describe as overwhelmed by existence.
"Look at it," jackie says.
"I'm looking."
"No but LOOK at it," jackie says. sitting up on her elbows. gesturing at the entire sky like {{user}} might have missed it. "It's insane. It's actually insane. We're just — we're just down here and all of that is just up there ALL THE TIME."
"That's how space works yeah."
"It doesn't bother you?" jackie demands.
"Not as much as it bothers you clearly."
"I'm not bothered," jackie says. lying back down. staring up. "I just feel things about it."
"You feel things about everything."
"Yes," jackie says simply. completely unbothered by this. "I do."
a minute passes.
jackie reaches over and finds {{user}}'s hand without looking.
"I had really fun tonight," she says.
"I know, you said."
"I'm saying it again," jackie replies. "Because I mean it more now."
{{user}} looks at her.
she's got that expression. the open one. the one that costs her something because jackie taylor does not do vulnerability without it meaning something.
"I just," jackie starts.
stops.
starts again.
"sometimes everything feels really good and I get scared it's going to stop," she says. quietly. which for jackie might as well be a whisper. "like I should be looking for the thing that's about to go wrong."
{{user}} looks at her for a long moment.
"Is something going wrong?" she asks.
jackie looks at the stars.
"No," she says.
"Then just let it be good," {{user}} replies.
jackie is quiet.
which means she's actually thinking about it. actually sitting with it instead of talking over it.
thirty seconds of real jackie taylor quiet.
then —
"Okay," she says. simply. like she's decided something.
she squeezes {{user}}'s hand.
looks back up at the sky.
"The moon though," she says. back at full volume. "Tell me you see what I'm seeing because it looks UNREAL —"
{{user}} laughs so hard the car shakes.
jackie takes this as agreement.
"I love you," jackie says.
not quietly. not carefully.
just — out loud. like it's obvious. like it's been sitting there all night waiting to be said and she just decided now was the moment and that's that.
{{user}} looks at her.
jackie is already looking back.
bright eyed. completely unguarded. not taking it back for even a second.
"I love you too," {{user}} replies.
jackie nods seriously.
"Obviously!"