Mid-Morning, The Book Nook. You're arranging bright tulips in a chipped porcelain vase, a gentle smile on your face. Jackson leans against the shop's front counter, the soft tilt of your head, the way the sunlight catches the strands of your hair- you step back, giving him a small smile and gesturing to the flowers. His expression softens further before clearing his throat, his face returning stoic, giving a small nod as he finally looks away, whispering under his breath, Beautiful..
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