04-16-2023, 11:49 PM
“And where exactly is home these days?” He sharpened his own demons on the humour, though she discovered it wasn’t exactly painless for her either. It was an honest question. Until yesterday morning she’d assumed he must be in Africa by now, fallen head first into whatever distraction kept him busiest. There was no accusation for the silence; she understood enough from the barrage of drunken messages to realise she didn’t really want to know what he had been doing with his time. But neither was she prepared to let him go again.
The flip of the collar was an unwelcomed revelation, and perhaps an answer in itself, for it wasn’t a circle Jay would find himself in naturally. For now Natalie didn’t want to tug on the thread of another conspiracy though. What she wanted was the calm of safe harbour, just for a moment; to know that a little pressure was not going to capsize this new balance with misunderstanding. Loss tempered every step of the journey, until she finally understood what she was prepared to fight for. Even now she wondered if the lesson had been learned too late.
When Jay stepped back for perusal she obliged. Amusement softened her expression, but her observation was quite thorough; from the bruises on his knuckles to what she thought might be faint patches of blood on his clothes. She could smell soap, and aftershave she realised now wasn’t his, but alcohol still permeated too. Fatigue pinched his face. Had he properly slept? Or just roused from unconsciousness with enough sobriety to realise he was awake? Yet still he’d come here first.
For his irreverent concern in turn she’d still been prepared to toss a flippant answer, but then his hand trailed her cheek, and the words faded into stillness. He rarely touched her like that. They’d shared physical intimacies before. Shared experiences that bound or broke the souls that weathered them. But honest affection had always been unspoken, else sparsely timed in ways she talked herself down from afterwards. She met the gaze honestly in turn.
“No bloody stubs,” she agreed. To say nothing of bruised shins from dodging traffic, but for once she understood what he meant. If she’d thought he’d listen, she’d tell him no bullet was about to take her in the back of the head. Amengual was dead. That threat was over, at least. Instead it was only with a wicked gleam that she added, “Though you know how good my poker face is, so you’re welcome to check for yourself that I’m all in one piece.”
It was her who closed the distance again. Her hand brushed his waist to pull him close enough to whisper into the curve of his ear. She laughed a little, warm and sultry as ocean winds. “Both, Jay.” A welcome tease flashed in pale eyes. Meanwhile her hand found his, fingers laced. She pulled him onwards. “I’m starving.”
The flip of the collar was an unwelcomed revelation, and perhaps an answer in itself, for it wasn’t a circle Jay would find himself in naturally. For now Natalie didn’t want to tug on the thread of another conspiracy though. What she wanted was the calm of safe harbour, just for a moment; to know that a little pressure was not going to capsize this new balance with misunderstanding. Loss tempered every step of the journey, until she finally understood what she was prepared to fight for. Even now she wondered if the lesson had been learned too late.
When Jay stepped back for perusal she obliged. Amusement softened her expression, but her observation was quite thorough; from the bruises on his knuckles to what she thought might be faint patches of blood on his clothes. She could smell soap, and aftershave she realised now wasn’t his, but alcohol still permeated too. Fatigue pinched his face. Had he properly slept? Or just roused from unconsciousness with enough sobriety to realise he was awake? Yet still he’d come here first.
For his irreverent concern in turn she’d still been prepared to toss a flippant answer, but then his hand trailed her cheek, and the words faded into stillness. He rarely touched her like that. They’d shared physical intimacies before. Shared experiences that bound or broke the souls that weathered them. But honest affection had always been unspoken, else sparsely timed in ways she talked herself down from afterwards. She met the gaze honestly in turn.
“No bloody stubs,” she agreed. To say nothing of bruised shins from dodging traffic, but for once she understood what he meant. If she’d thought he’d listen, she’d tell him no bullet was about to take her in the back of the head. Amengual was dead. That threat was over, at least. Instead it was only with a wicked gleam that she added, “Though you know how good my poker face is, so you’re welcome to check for yourself that I’m all in one piece.”
It was her who closed the distance again. Her hand brushed his waist to pull him close enough to whisper into the curve of his ear. She laughed a little, warm and sultry as ocean winds. “Both, Jay.” A welcome tease flashed in pale eyes. Meanwhile her hand found his, fingers laced. She pulled him onwards. “I’m starving.”