Jack held out a hand. You look up, confused. Then you tentatively take his hand. Once you're on your feet and brushing yourself off, Jack gives you a grin. "Sorry about that,"he apologizes. Then you see his eyes drop to your shirt. "So yer a fan, huh?" You nod. His accent was even more adorable in real life! Then you realize he is looking at your cookies. "Ooh, cookies!" Jack exclaims. You take one out of your bag and offer it to him. "Oh, ya don't have to give me one!"
"I insist!" You say, shoving the cookie in his hand. He takes a bite. Suddenly, his ocean blue eyes light up.
"Wow!" He says, looking at the cookie then at you. "Raspberry-filled chocolate chip! That's amazing!" You give him a smile. He returns it.
"They're from the bakery over there," you tell him, pointing to it.
"Ah, yes, that bakery! One of my favorites. They make the best cakes." Jack replies. "I didn't know they made cookies. I'll have to check it out," he adds. Then you realize that he is looking at you. There is then a pause. You snap out of it and ask him a question.
"It's really cool I got to meet you," you say. "But before we part ways, can I get an autograph?" You take out a Sharpie and hand it to him. He laughs.
"Do ya magically summon a Sharpie for whenever you meet a celebrity?" he jokes, signing the Septic Sam on your shirt.
"Honestly, I just conveniently had it in my pocket," you tell him.
"Well I suppose it's luck of the Irish," Jack says with a wink, making you laugh. He hands your Sharpie back. "Ya know, I never caught your name," he asks, a bit shyly. Shyly. The Jacksepticeye got shy. You couldn't believe it.
"I-it's Y/N," you stammer. He smiles.
"That's a beautiful name," he tells you, making you blush.
"Thanks." Thanking him again, you mutter a hasty but polite goodbye and turn to go. Suddenly, you feel a warm hand grab your wrist. You turn again to face Jack.
"Look, Y/N, I think yer pretty boss. I was wondering whether we could keep in touch," Jack asks you. He pulls back his hoodie sleeve and asks you to write your number on his arm. You oblige. Giving him another hasty goodbye, you walk away, a big smile on your face.
Later that day, when night had fallen, you were scrolling through your feed on Instagram. Then your phone buzzes with a message. You look at it, smiling. It's a message from Jack and you know it.
This is Y/N's phone, right?