While Keiran waited and Jackson explained, the younger man doodled on the table absently with his finger. The smallest of smiles curved up the corners of his lips, and even though he was more than a little confused by what was going on, he couldn't bring himself to worry about it. Worrying wasn't in his nature, even if it should have been.
“Ginny?” He queried, eyeing Jackson conspiratorially before he continued, “That's sure a strange name.” He considered asking Jackson if she was hot, but there were a few alarms going off in his mind telling Keiran that it was, most definitely, a poor idea to do so. “Do you feel funny when you're around her?” Keiran asked, looking back down at his imaginary drawing on the table. “All of my life I've been looking for something, someone. It wasn't until I met you that I began to feel whole.”
It was a strange confession, but it was a feeling that had haunted Keiran all his life, and if Jackson was making it recede, he should be aware of it.
When he commented on the constant drinking again Keiran cast his gaze to the side, steadfastly refusing to look at Jackson while they had this conversation. “I'm not an alcoholic,” he stated, shrugging up his shoulders, “And, before I met you, I drank so that I didn't have to deal with feeling like half of me was missing all the time...”