09-30-2023, 05:38 PM
It was taking him a while to catch his breath. It probably had nothing to do with pouring alcohol and shit carbs down the gullet for longer than he cared to admit. But damn, what a feeling. And Jay was content to lay there and soak it in.
When he finally looked down at her, having stared at nothing but the ceiling like he was afraid of busting out of his own head and back into the real world, it was all he could do to swallow and smile. Her teasing whisper made him wonder if more was in store, but she propped herself up like a model out of a magazine instead.
As he lazily placed a hand behind his head, a foolhardy grin spread across his face.
“I don’t blame you. It was the jacket. Made me damn irresistible.”
However, the slow, lingering touch of her fingers gradually wiped that grin away, and his focus returned to the ceiling. His breathing had become steady by then, but he felt strangely stretched. There was nothing ominous in the way her finger grazed his skin, yet his mind conjured up vivid images: Placaso’s deadpan leer, Jay’s determination to show no fear, and the unimaginable pain that made him long for death.
Gently, he took her hand from his chest and held it still against his heart.
“Would you believe me if I said I’ve never worn a robe a day in my life?” He pat her hand and shifted to rise. There was the softness of circumstances accepted mixed with the roguish gleam in his eyes. Despite her laundry threats, he slipped back into his pants, leaving it at that, and ventured into the hallway in search of leftover food.
The shower was running while he went through the process of unpacking it all. He located plates and cutlery, methodically laying out a place for her at the table. While Natalie was out, he settled onto the sofa to devour his meal. And that's exactly how she would find him when she returned: lounging on the couch, an empty plate resting on his lap, head comfortably nestled against the cushion, and dead asleep.
When he finally looked down at her, having stared at nothing but the ceiling like he was afraid of busting out of his own head and back into the real world, it was all he could do to swallow and smile. Her teasing whisper made him wonder if more was in store, but she propped herself up like a model out of a magazine instead.
As he lazily placed a hand behind his head, a foolhardy grin spread across his face.
“I don’t blame you. It was the jacket. Made me damn irresistible.”
However, the slow, lingering touch of her fingers gradually wiped that grin away, and his focus returned to the ceiling. His breathing had become steady by then, but he felt strangely stretched. There was nothing ominous in the way her finger grazed his skin, yet his mind conjured up vivid images: Placaso’s deadpan leer, Jay’s determination to show no fear, and the unimaginable pain that made him long for death.
Gently, he took her hand from his chest and held it still against his heart.
“Would you believe me if I said I’ve never worn a robe a day in my life?” He pat her hand and shifted to rise. There was the softness of circumstances accepted mixed with the roguish gleam in his eyes. Despite her laundry threats, he slipped back into his pants, leaving it at that, and ventured into the hallway in search of leftover food.
The shower was running while he went through the process of unpacking it all. He located plates and cutlery, methodically laying out a place for her at the table. While Natalie was out, he settled onto the sofa to devour his meal. And that's exactly how she would find him when she returned: lounging on the couch, an empty plate resting on his lap, head comfortably nestled against the cushion, and dead asleep.
Only darkness shows you the light.