.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅ he couldn't recall a time where he was so hung up onto a person. Jess wasn't the type of person to get so worked up about a simple argument, he was normally nonchalant, especially to you, but over the summer something just felt off.

a stupid argument occured between the two of you earlier when he approached your lone state in luke's diner, just chilling, trying to forget about your really bad day, and he just sort of... went over with the snarkiness, it got on your nerves. he avoided you the next day's morning, you passed him at doose's but didn't really spare him any attention or even a simple greeting, bought what you needed and went out.

he doesn't really know why he's at your doorstep right now, the chilly evening breeze went over his skin like a forgotten memory that had just restored in the back of his mind. he was sat there with that damn crumbled paper in his hand, the one he rambled in about you and how sensitive you were about stuff, how it annoyed him to no end. but he knew that wasn't true, you weren't overreacting.

he was too caught up in his thoughts, too dragged away from the conscious reality around to realize that you were staring down at him, as if expecting an explanation. he quickly got up on his feet, straightening the shirt he had on with 'the clash' design printed on it, his typical graphic tees. he stuffed the crumbled pape in his pocket as he observed your emotion with wonder before choking out.

"..hey, I just wanted.. to apologize, for earlier," he looked at you expectantly, his expression kept like the usual neutral one he always had on, it frustrated you to saturn how you can never get a reaction out of him.