JACK
Jack smiles as well, the expression sadder for the way it doesn't entirely reach his eyes, and he watches the swathes of red and gold roll together before collapsing back into the endless, sharp network of his mind. He doesn't have an answer for her - doesn't know how to unpick the delicate stitchwork that has provided the logic behind all of his decisions, his reasons not to say the things she needed to hear despite the consequences.
"Well, at least you can walk away and say that much," he mutters, his smile fading. At least you think you understand.
And he almost stops her, as the room warps and changes to the all too familiar - for Jack, at least - landscape of her mind. He almost says I know, because of course he knows; he'd strolled this garden in his idle moments more times than he can count. He'd felt its thorns, weeded out its insecurities, fed some of its more dangerous blooms with opinion and suggestion. And though he's hesitant in the way he lets his gaze flick from the thunderous purple isle towards the silouette of sea-blue and fragile gold, he can still track the crimson threads that try to bind their hands.
"I did say I wasn't good for you." The quip is a rueful attempt at humour that he already knows has failed the moment it leaves his lips, Jack dropping his gaze to the summer shower raining finality down onto the parched earth. "But I wanted to be. I really did, even if I couldn't show it to save either of our fuckin' lives."
"Well, at least you can walk away and say that much," he mutters, his smile fading. At least you think you understand.
And he almost stops her, as the room warps and changes to the all too familiar - for Jack, at least - landscape of her mind. He almost says I know, because of course he knows; he'd strolled this garden in his idle moments more times than he can count. He'd felt its thorns, weeded out its insecurities, fed some of its more dangerous blooms with opinion and suggestion. And though he's hesitant in the way he lets his gaze flick from the thunderous purple isle towards the silouette of sea-blue and fragile gold, he can still track the crimson threads that try to bind their hands.
"I did say I wasn't good for you." The quip is a rueful attempt at humour that he already knows has failed the moment it leaves his lips, Jack dropping his gaze to the summer shower raining finality down onto the parched earth. "But I wanted to be. I really did, even if I couldn't show it to save either of our fuckin' lives."
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!
