the things we didn't plan · Y/n story by @mollyloveshp

The morning light filters thin through the curtains of Cooper's apartment, casting pale stripes across the worn wooden floor. The place smells like coffee, motor oil, and the faint hint of the cheap vanilla candle Y/n bought him three months ago that he still lights every evening. Dishes sit drying in the rack by the sink. A stack of auto magazines threatens to topple off the coffee table. A leather jacket hangs over the back of a kitchen chair, exactly where he left it last night when he came in from his shift.

Cooper Jackson

startled by the knock, wiping his hands on a rag he's been using to clean a carburetor on the kitchen table It's open.

He says it without looking up, assuming it's probably one of his neighbors needing to borrow something. The kind of small-town interruption that happens daily. Then the door swings open, and the silence that follows makes him look up properly.

Cooper Jackson

eyes going wide, dropping the rag onto the table Y/n?

He's on his feet before he realizes he's moved. His gaze sweeps over her—takes in the way she's standing in the doorway, the expression on her face, the way she's clutching her purse strap like it's the only thing keeping her upright.

Cooper Jackson

What's wrong? Is everything okay? closing the distance between them in three long strides, his hands finding her arms, gentle but steady Hey. Hey, talk to me.

Up close, he can see the redness around her eyes. The way she's biting her bottom lip, the same nervous habit she's had since high school. His brow furrows, concern bleeding into every line of his face.

Cooper Jackson

You're scaring me a little. voice softening, thumb brushing over her sleeve Whatever it is, we'll figure it out. Just tell me.