JACK
Surely so, as it happens. Jack hears her before he hears her, in the way his magic always allows, such that he’s already half turned towards the door when it opens properly. There are a dozen objections on the lips of Flora’s guardians, ranging from you shouldn’t be out of bed all the way to what the fuck, but he punched out Derek; ultimately, though, her approval reigns supreme, and it’s with a smirk that’s far too cocky for the way the storm in his gut is still brewing that Jack bids them farewell and follows her inside.
Within the room, they are sealed in sunlight and wavesong, and the abrupt switch from near violence to tranquility has him halting in place for a second or two, giving the Doubletake time to pour herself some water. Jack can feel the delicate strands of her thoughts, frayed and uncertain and shining so softly that they appear like ghosts of the woman to whom they belong, and he hates it.
He’s always hated it, the way the world could stifle her vibrancy. It’s why he’d offered caution, it’s why he’d preached vigilance and care, and it’s why, ultimately, he’d been unable to reconcile her bold decision making with his own meticulous path through life.
”I didn’t come to fight.”
Crossing the room after her at last, Jack stands before the Doubletake as if unsure how to bridge the distance between them, despite having literally crossed an ocean to be there. In the end, though, he reaches out to tease her hair back from her face enough that he can sweep it across one shoulder; enough that he can step into the space that lingers between them and look, properly look, at the evidence of what had happened to her through the delicate silk of her dress across the arch of her back.
”I came to see if you were alright.”
Within the room, they are sealed in sunlight and wavesong, and the abrupt switch from near violence to tranquility has him halting in place for a second or two, giving the Doubletake time to pour herself some water. Jack can feel the delicate strands of her thoughts, frayed and uncertain and shining so softly that they appear like ghosts of the woman to whom they belong, and he hates it.
He’s always hated it, the way the world could stifle her vibrancy. It’s why he’d offered caution, it’s why he’d preached vigilance and care, and it’s why, ultimately, he’d been unable to reconcile her bold decision making with his own meticulous path through life.
”I didn’t come to fight.”
Crossing the room after her at last, Jack stands before the Doubletake as if unsure how to bridge the distance between them, despite having literally crossed an ocean to be there. In the end, though, he reaches out to tease her hair back from her face enough that he can sweep it across one shoulder; enough that he can step into the space that lingers between them and look, properly look, at the evidence of what had happened to her through the delicate silk of her dress across the arch of her back.
”I came to see if you were alright.”
no more than I was or than I want to be
when you fall on me like night, I wanna kill the lights
when you fall on me like night, I wanna kill the lights
- Secret Telepath
- Functionally Immortal (Forever 35)
- Two small star tattoos beneath his left eye
- Click for The Ark!
