Cotton Candy Hearts (Laughing Jack x Bloody Painter)

Painting

"FUCKING, BOLLOCKING, CUNT-HOLE SAKE!"

That is what came from Sally's room. Bloody Painter was in there, on a ladder by the wall with a paint brush covered in pink paint in his hand, trying to paint the wall, but the paint had other ideas.

Sally had asked if someone would paint her bedroom earlier that day, and Helen stepped up, as he liked painting anyway. He didn't realise this would happen.

There was pink paint all over Sally's bed, as it had dripped off the wall and onto the bed. He knew he should have moved it, but thought that it could stay there for a minute while he painted elsewhere. But, the paint had other ideas.

Laughing Jack was walking past to his room when he heard Helen cursing, and went to investigate. He couldn't help but laugh at the sight in front of him. Bloody painter climbing down a ladder, covered in pink wall paint.

Painter heard a giggle and looked at the doorway to see Jack, standing there, laughing his ass off. I mean, they do call him Laughing Jack for a reason...

Helen just glared at him, picking up a cloth and attempting to wipe the paint off the duvet, but failing miserably. Jack finally calmed down and walked in.

"Would you like a hand with that?" he asked, seeing the mess Painter made of Sally's duvet.

"Yes, that would be nice instead of just laughing your ass off at me in the doorway." Helen responded, clearly very pissed off as he rolled his eyes. This, he thought, is why he prefers to be on his own, and not around others. 

Jack went to find another duvet cover on the top of Sally's wardrobe, as he was one of the few people who could reach that high. He found a teddy bear one and got it down. He took the duvet off the bed, took the paint-covered unicorn cover off and put on the teddy bear one, then helped Painter move the bed to avoid it happening again.

He than decided to stay and help with the job, as, he said, that would get it done quicker. But really he just liked Helen's company, no matter how anti-social he was, and would take any opportunity he found to do so. He also just found Painter pretty, but always tried to deny it, saying to himself it was just wrong to think that of another man, though he still did, and just couldn't help it. He thought it was wrong, yet it just felt so right, yet he didn't know why, it just did.

He brushed it off and continued painting, stealing the occasional glance of Helen's stunning face, eyebrows furrowed slightly in concentration when he reached an area where he had to be careful.

They finally finished painting and stepped back to admire their handy-work, before putting everything back, but also keeping stuff away from the walls to make sure they dried properly. Helen went to find Sally to show her her new pink walls, while Jack finished putting everything back, watching Painter as he walked out the door.

A few minutes later, Helen returned with Sally, who took one look around her room and started jumping up and down, squealing with joy. Jack noticed Helen smile at that. Boy, did he love that smile. No, he thought to himself, no, no, no! What is wrong with me? Why am I think this? This is just weird and wrong! "And yet, it doesn't feel like it," Jack muttered under his breath, feeling his face heat up slightly. 

They finally managed to leave the room after explaining to Sally that she couldn't touch the walls yet as they were still wet, and she had a different duvet cover because the unicorn one got paint on it, so it would need to be washed. Helen and Jack's rooms were in the same corridor, so when they passed Jack's room, he pretended to go in, but actually watch Helen until he entered his room. He then got into his room and flopped onto the bed on his back, staring at the ceiling, feeling his cheeks heat up at the mere thought of Helen's smile when they saw Sally so happy with her room. He told himself that it was wrong, and it needed to stop, but he couldn't make it stop.

He looked to the blade on his bedside table, and reached out for it, but decided to just leave it. Instead, he just stared at the ceiling again, thinking of Helen. His beautiful, perfect face, his stunning smile, his warm, delicate hands. Jack thought he was going madder than he was. Or rather, he would, if Helen ever disappeared. He reminded him a bit of Isaac. This just made things worse. He blamed himself for Isaac forgetting him. He didn't forget him, he was scared of him. He was a big, scary clown, of cause he would be scared, that's normal. He scared to poor kid when he only wanted to be friends. Who would want to be friends with him? Who could love a monster like him?