[ Jess crosses her arms, initially wracking her brain for a good excuse to let him talk. She comes up empty but allows his voice to fill the ensuing silence anyway. If it's the last time she's going to hear it, what does it matter if it's bullshit. Volleying blame around isn't getting them anywhere, each of them embodying the unstoppable force and immovable object interchangeably and to the fullest possible commitment. ]
So, what? [ She shrugs needlessly, casting her gaze off at the higher boughs surrounding them before steering it back to him, hard and skeptical. ] You think I don't care about you? [ He's not that fucking stupid but she'll grant it that he is that self-destructive, -loathing, all the other -hyphened psychological garbage they both reek of. But seriously ] Are you shitting me? [ She willingly brought him with her out here and not to murder. She's felt she exposed her predisposition towards him the second she told him she'd go. ]
[ any anger or righteousness he once felt he was rightfully on the side of disappears with that one outburst. he pushes a hand back through his wet hair, knocking his ineffectual hood off his head in the process. is she saying... what he thinks she is? he wants to blame himself for being thick on this one, but she tried, she said. at every turn she'd tried to shrug him off and go out of her way to tell him 'it didn't have to mean anything.' unless-- maybe he really is that stupid, after all. ]
I know you care. [ it's the 'about him' part that he can't reconcile, but even in times where she said she wanted him to leave her alone, she was still there - wasn't she? just as his own feelings, it's only in retrospect that he can even begin to see hers. frank shakes his head, suddenly acutely aware of his heart pounding in his chest and the blood rushing harshly through his ears. he just wants to go back, even a few hours would be enough. his hand reaches out until it connects with her arm, but it's barely even that in anticipation of being shrugged off. ] Don't go, okay? Please don't go.
[ it's pathetic and he knows it, but he can't stomach this being the last time they see each other. he needs her. ]
[ Her arms drop to her sides but, like neither of them are expecting, her shoulders don't shake him off. Jess strains to swallow, blinking rainwater off her eyelashes. ]
I'm scared. [ Jess stresses, spits, hisses it. It's a hideous feeling to have and uglier to own up to. It's constant toil to feel anything else through it and managing it has worn her down to the marrow. If he can't see her caring for him now, how can she promise to change? As if she doesn't want to, even for such a crappy, backwards reason. Anything is better than suspending herself in a living death, as relegated the back of her own life as she ever was on Kevin's arm.
Her abrupt switch to such a softness that the rainfall threatens to swallow it puts her off. Imperceptibly, among the shame she's already soaked in. ] It's never gonna stop. I don't know how to make it stop.
[ when she doesn't let go, he steps in the rest of the way, the toes of their boots matching up. he lives in terror, just as surely as she does - this place doesn't add or take any of that away from them. kilgrave being here only makes her fear more acute, and as ever he wishes he could take it away. but he can't, he's tried. all he can be is safe. safe to her and safe to himself are equally as important, he's only now coming to realize. his hand rubs up and down her arm, from slightly above her elbow to just below her shoulder - it's as much to comfort her as it is himself. ]
I know, I know. [ it's not okay and he can't say it is, but after another second's hesitation, he uses their point of contact to gently pull her in against his chest. initiating a hug used to feel so normal, and now it's like he doesn't even remember how. but he puts forth the effort because it's the only tool in his arsenal against the way jess feels now. it's a lame remedy, but it's what he wants to be for her. it's easier to show her than to tell her even when he sucks at both. ]
[ She stares over his shoulder and sure enough, they're still alone. Shudders start from her lungs so Jess steadies herself on him as though the threat isn't coming from inside. She holds him to her hard, glaring balefully through the forest leading back to Reims.
If she goes back, it means withholding distribution of the vaccine until Kilgrave can land himself in prison for inevitably abusing his ability. If it ever comes out that she did that, she'll deserve the witch hunt. The alternative is to postpone the inevitable for everyone's peace of mind but hers. Jess will know her choice instantly but she reels against thinking that far into it and whittling away the last splinter of control she has over herself. ]
I need more time. [ Jess stonily implores, lending no slack to her vice-like embrace. She wants him to stay. While he does, the future remains clouded. If he goes, Jess will never see him again as long as she lives -- and after she dies, his guess is as good as hers. ]
[ his embrace is as gentle as hers is rough, and he permits it all as if he had a choice in the matter. he needs to be steady now so he is, easily ignoring the rain pelting down around them as he holds her fast and switches his rubbing to her back, his cheek molding against hers as he understands and absorbs her fears as his own. ]
Okay. [ as if he'd deny her now, at zero hour. his other hand finds her waist and he clings on, trying to prove to her he's not going anywhere. for as much as everyone claims to need him back in reims, frank is starting to come to terms with jess needing him just as much - maybe more. and of course she'd shied away from it; had even vehemently denied it to his face. but he was supposed to parse through all of that and get here, right? ] But if we're staying can we go back inside?
[ a soft ask, murmured close to her ear. he tries to keep some humor in there to fall back on, but he isn't sure it translates. her grip is nearly bonecrushing and yet he's loathe for her to loosen it, wanting to stay just this way for as long as they can. but they should also get out of the rain now that their clothes and better judgment have been soaked through. he winds her hair behind her ear and presses a kiss to the side of her face before resting his boulder of a head on her shoulder. for all his talk, he could stay here forever. ]
[ A jerk of her head serves as a nod despite her arm winding higher on his back, hand hiking over his shoulder. Jess holds him tighter than she lets herself hold anyone, for the span of a blink. With a defiantly even sigh, her grip gives and then falls away. She leans off his chest like the water has her sealed there, peeling herself from him to head back.
With a heavy step, she deliberately knocks her hair loose again so that most of her profile is obscured. Along with it, hopefully, the misgiving edge to her compromise. Worst case scenario: More talking. Best case: She goes back to sleep? She doesn't know, but there's no reason to stay out here, none that can be backed up with logic. ]
[ when it's finally time to let go, he offers a watery smile in solidarity. it's as lame as all the rest, even as he reaches into his pocket for the whiskey he'd stashed and takes a long, satisfying pull. they were supposed to be shirking responsibility and instead what do they do? frank walks too close, their elbows knocking even as he gets the flask shut before he can spill the precious liquid. frank eventually does wander off the path to take that piss before hooking back up with her on the way back to the tent. it's a real downpour now, and yet the simple little structure looks warm and inviting.
frank ducks inside and starts stripping, taking off his boots and rescuing his liquor from his pocket before getting started on the rest. it feels so nice to be rid of wet clothes he doesn't think about anything else until everything's lying in a neat pile by his boots. he picks his bottle up and lays down on top of their blankets, waiting for her to join him as the bedclothes soak up excess water from his bare skin. it's easy to sink back into silence even with the rain just outside. suddenly he's exhausted, taking a lazy sip as he meets her eyes from across the scant space. ]
[ They make it back in what feels like half the time it took her to storm into the woods. Their little Eeyore house has proven itself surprisingly sturdy. Jess begrudges it that, shrugging out of her pack and jacket outside the entrance before tossing both in and getting in herself. Getting her socks off first, it's her jeans that take the most time, damp as they are to the skin. She shoves them down her thighs and they go inside out as she thuds onto her backside and yanks them off her calves and free of her ankles.
Her flannel is dry except for the buttons along the front -- and now between her shoulder blades, where her soaked hair has collected. Jess tugs it over her head instead of fussing with the buttons, then rakes all her hair over one shoulder. She twists it into a rope and squeezes rainwater over and through her fists, over the pile of wet denim. In her tank top and underwear, she shuffles away from the tent wall for warmth.
Without motions left to go through, Jess can't resist unreservedly reading him. She's never seen this much of him, most poignantly felt in the way he's looking at her. She can tell he's comfortable but it's different than it's been before, somehow. Jess settles onto her side a few inches from him, resting her head on her bent arm, watching him. For once, she isn't searching him for a motive or an advantageous fatal flaw. Just watching. She easily fills her lungs fuller than she thought they could go, but it's good. ]
[ frank doesn't mind her watching him though usually he might - from someone else. with her it's almost like there are no limits, and maybe he would have noticed that a lot sooner if they weren't in this dumb, silent place, right? or maybe not. he knows he's thickheaded anyway. and this kind of silence is nice, self-imposed. he takes another sip before offering her the bottle, a tiny tremor wracking up his spine from the chill outside and the warmth burning down his throat both. with only his boxer briefs to guard him against it, the urge is to draw in closer is strong, but he sticks to fiddling with the hem of her shirt for the moment, breathing her air and enjoying doing so. ]
[ Jess doesn't think she's any colder than she was when she was outside and dressed but she knows that can't be true. And she knows it's not her abilities either, which make low temperatures marginally less unbearable for her than the average Joelle. It's the ice flow in her veins, little shards of her brain and heart sloshing along it like the castoffs of glaciers. She runs cold, but judging by the coarse gooseflesh raised all down her legs, not cold enough. The whiskey emphatically seconds that sign, simmering on the way to her stomach, leaving the inside of her throat seared and twice as thirsty.
Jess has another swig from the bottle, which seems to have become her centre of gravity as she holds it to her mouth til the base hits the ground. Jess stays propped there, poorly balanced with her leg come to lie fully against his. With her hair in front of her, her armed pinned beneath her to the right and his chest walling off her left, Jess tries to expand the false sense of security that she feels in that small, dark space, until it can encompass the tent for as long as it stands. Tries. Sighing, Jess briefly rests her forehead to the bottle's mouth and then raises her head to hand it back. ]
[ he presses his leg back against hers, trying to usher some warmth back into both of them even with the alcohol stealing precious degrees. he watches her drink, a soft smile on his face all the while. it's almost like they never went outside at all, an alternate reality where they weren't the two most dramatic people to ever come here. when she hands him the whiskey at last, he only takes a tiny pull from it before capping it off and placing it above their heads within reach. then he's settling in, arm bracketing over his head so he can use his shoulder as a pillow. his eyes nearly cross when he tries to look at her from suddenly so much closer, but it doesn't put him off the effort.
the hand tangled in her shirt shifts to run calloused pads along the sliver of flesh exposed to the tent, his ankle rubbing against hers as his face tips forward until their noses brush. he can smell whiskey on her breath as surely as his own, and for the first time between himself and jessica things seem easy. pleasantly, blissfully simple. ]
[ It is almost like they never went out inside, in that Jess doesn't know how far he wants to go. If he suddenly changes his mind again, she'll live. She lives through everything. Just like before, she doesn't want him to. He heard her admit she wasn't the hardass she had to convince him she was, didn't he? Does that change anything or is it just going to make him realize that it doesn't? No more or less of her is at stake yet between this bed and that broken branch, she got skin in the game for real. ]
Frank... [ Jess softly warns, shuddering as his breath spears through her, warmer than her own. Her hand has assumed the spot the whiskey bottle indented, planted between them to keep her stable. Instead she uses him, fingers and palm wrapping over the seam of his ribcage. Jess gently pushes back at his face, biting her lip nervously as she digs her nails shallowly into his skin. Pushing him to draw the line or step past it, finally. ]
[ he doesn't want to change his mind either, and he doesn't think he's going to; but there's still that note of uncertainty hanging between them and he's not really in a rush to clear it up. frank tips in closer at the sound of his name, his other hand coming down to cup her face. his breathing stutters when her nails bite into him, and he squirms forward until his hipbone taps hers. it's enjoyable for him, skirting this line. it doesn't occur to him that jessica is looking to him for a definitive action here. ] Yeah? [ it's soft and he feels like it's been moments since she spoke, when surely it's only been seconds. ]
[ She didn't plan a follow-up. The fact that he moves closer jacks up the volume of her heartbeat but Jess wrestles it back down with a swallow, wispy vestiges of whiskey on her tongue. She shakes her head to dismiss herself despite the words she's rearranging in it, hoping to pin down what she became aware of feeling, like, ten minutes ago. ]
I don't know what you want. [ Muttered with her face tucked in too close for him to read. She had some idea before but confidence came easier when he was wandering in the dark, certain she didn't give a damn. Her hand smooths lower down his side until her thumb slips below the muscle curving over his hip. She resists the urge to scrape her lips with the stubble of his jaw. The moment is tense for her, not quite tender. ]
[ another sharp breath gets caught in his throat at the mirroring touch. he could so easily just - kiss her and he knows she would respond. but they're still responding to different stimuli, at least as deep as he can figure out, and that scares him. it could prove volatile in the end, inspire jealousy he doesn't want to feel. he has no right to stake his claim over her and no will to do so anyway. frank can't truly belong to her for as surely as he'd die again at her command with zero hesitation. so he can't ask that of her, and would never dream of doing so.
his face tips in even another fraction of an inch, and he feels an electric spark at the first contact of their lips. they haven't since the treehouse, but this is a different scene in a different act - it isn't even colored the same. maybe they aren't even the same people they were then. he speaks lowly against her lips, answering her statement with a question. one he's been dying to know the answer of since he first put the pieces together. ]
When we get back- [ he can't say home. they each have some approximation of that, but trish and david are here. for all intents and purposes, their lives are here, until they aren't. and then somehow they'll be inexplicably in the same universe breathing the same toxic air all over again. he has no way of knowing if each of them will remember this place, or each other. but if they do remember and if they do remember one another, he wants to know if it means anything. he needs to. ] Are we strangers?
[ his breathing is thready, but there's no hint or inclination towards pulling away no matter what her answer is, if she has one. he thinks she's been trying not to think of 'home' as much as he has. maybe it's why he presses more intently into the line of their bodies while he waits for a reply that might not come, his fingers working insistently higher over her abdomen and one leg stubbornly tucked between hers now. ]
[ He's lost her again. They weren't strangers when they left and they won't look like it if they return together. Jess still doesn't know that she will, that way. She needs more time. ]
Back- [ it's ludicrous but Jess will take a stab at ludicrous over impaling herself on another conversation about Reims. Her hand slips over his waist, splayed over his back. ] to New York?
[ It's asked against his mouth and then Jess leans away by a scant inch, to read his face. To let him read hers. "Home" hasn't been a factor for her in months. It's no more alive to her than Hope, Reva or her family. If it were, she would go insane. It can't be a possibility or it's one she's turned her back on just to keep from killing herself every day. She hasn't chosen to be part of the community but she's not naive enough to think leaving her options open means any more will meaningfully materialize, sorry Kamala. And he doesn't even want to go back, didn't he say that? ]
[ he realizes his mistake instantly, drawing back when she does until his eyes uncross when he focuses on her. he's totally doing that goofy smile thing, sorry about it, though it dulls some as he nods. he deliberately chose the word when because the inevitability of returning is weighing on him. he hopes it's after he's accomplished what he set out to do here, as if that were within his will as well. but both of them are more than accustomed to not getting their way. ]
You don't have to answer. [ he shrugs a shoulder to dismiss himself, hand tracking diligently up over her ribcage now. ]
[ What little energy she has would be squandered in an attempt to voice her utter resignation. Jess measures his sincerity over a beat, searching him for disappointment. She doesn't see any and he's not that good at hiding how he feels, not around her. No lies. Except the omitted sort, of which she's exorbitantly guilty herself. ]
I can't think like that. [ And she wants to. She wants to be in a place where she can think about what she would be like and what she would do if she were to ever go home, without it completely overwhelming her. That's not here. Doubtful she'll find it anywhere, as far as she goes. She never gave up like that before Reims. Taking that person back doesn't sound worth it.
Jess can barely hang her head without knocking into his. Trying only brings them closer again. She withdraws her hand, breaking eye contact to focus on her fingertips playing reservedly along his jaw. ] I'm sorry. [ A dry swallow. ]
[ it hurts. to say it doesn't would be a lie. but the pain isn't for himself, and when their foreheads brush he relishes in being close again; in leaving the world behind. their own, and reims both - it's just them in this tent with the rain sheltering them for however long. the time doesn't matter, but it feels boundless anyway. she's barely through the apology when he smashes his lips into hers, as if erasing the words by force. she never has anything to apologize to him for, and there's nothing subtle in his movements now, blunt nails dragging back down her side until he can dig into her hip, his leg winding around hers with absolutely no coyness as it brings their pelvises flush.
his breast heaves against hers as he's breathless in moments from the hard kiss, but he draws it out for as long as he can, eyes squeezed shut as he feels every plane of her body against his acutely now, one large hand cupping the back of her head firmly. it isn't like him to take something he wants in this context, at least not with such confidence, but the second he felt her waver he knew he had to act; ever her foil. because when she inevitably takes charge again, he'll fade away and submit to her, but now in this moment he knows they both need a buoy to anchor to. ]
[ Jess takes him in without hesitation, accepting his denial that she requires forgiveness. Agree to disagree, for now. Time is on her side in that one regard. She would rather push herself to be present, to surround herself with him and let his fervor of devotion consume her and her every thought.
Her mouth opened in a shudder. A good one, and to make sure he knows, she coils the hair at the back of his neck tightly through her fingers as she kisses him feverishly. Everywhere he touches her, gently crushes her, spurs her blood to rush faster and hotter, spilling over her nerves and leaving them softly burned, fucking aching. Jess falls to her back with him secure to her chest, legs slotted between his. She easily lifts her hips from the bedroll even with him settled on top of them, daring him to infer weakness. ]
[ his breath hitches, a pitchy sigh carried over as she pulls him over her, easily hefting his bulk when he's too slow to get with the program. the kiss is unsustainable for him at this angle and he pulls back in a struggle for oxygen even as all of their other points of contact deepen. he tries desperately to catch his breath, but with her fingers tugging insistently at his scalp and her hips slotting up into his, it's a losing battle even if it's hard-fought. frank nips at her lower lip in lieu of anything true, his body already coming alive again with that simple unspoken command. not that he would mind a spoken version now, but maybe she feels she's bossed him around enough, and it would only make him long for things he can't have anyway. something gratuitously loud just for the sake of it stashed somewhere in his arousal-fueled mind.
he doesn't hesitate now as hot hands ignite along her skin, pushing her shirt up and out of the way so his palms can learn the shape and fill of her breasts. his crooked nose slots against hers, breathing solely through the conduit of their mouths as he rolls his hips once, deeply, and gives her the benefit of another pathetic, held-back noise. he doesn't need any more than this, but knowing he's going to get it is overwhelming, still unsure if he can follow through on even the most rudimentary of physical imperatives. but he'll die trying, if that's what it takes, because it's what jess wants; and that's always been the way they operate. ]
[ Jess props herself up on her elbows as her shirt is shoved over her chest, then thumping onto her back and lifts her arms above her head until it's gone. She loops them loosely around his head, nuzzling at his face, reigning in a whimper at the edge of her lips as he grinds in against her. Their breath breaks over their skin, pools in the empty space between their throats. A shiver wracks Jess, a perfect pattern of little bumps rising to the surface of her exposed flesh. Stupid, since Jess doesn't feel cold and doesn't want him to worry or slow down.
The noose of her arms unravels, hands sliding under his arms and up his back. The ripples of hard muscle padded with scar tissue smooth away the goosebumps, or he's so goddamn hot it feels that way. She digs her nails in under his shoulder blade, nose dragging along his brow as she tips her head back and offers her throat to him. ]
[ her shiver doesn't worry him, but it is catching, a shudder of his own wracking his frame on an exhale as jess pulls him in close. for as much as he protested this, being with her like this means he doesn't have to think. only actions matter at this moment and it couldn't be more liberating. strong arms coil around her, keeping her as warm as he can as he memorizes the way their bodies fit.
when she digs her nails in, he opens his mouth in a sharp gasp, finding her pulse with his lips only seconds after she offers herself forward. his teeth scrape shallowly along her throat before chasing away the abrasion with more soft kisses, his embrace becoming nearly crushing - or it would be for anyone else. both his legs wind around one of her thighs, pushing his nose up until he can tug at her earlobe with his teeth next, huffing a gentle breath across the sensitive organ. everything about his touch is slow and heavy, laced with deliberate action as he tries to calm her urgency and draw this out as much as he's physically capable of. ]
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So, what? [ She shrugs needlessly, casting her gaze off at the higher boughs surrounding them before steering it back to him, hard and skeptical. ] You think I don't care about you? [ He's not that fucking stupid but she'll grant it that he is that self-destructive, -loathing, all the other -hyphened psychological garbage they both reek of. But seriously ] Are you shitting me? [ She willingly brought him with her out here and not to murder. She's felt she exposed her predisposition towards him the second she told him she'd go. ]
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I know you care. [ it's the 'about him' part that he can't reconcile, but even in times where she said she wanted him to leave her alone, she was still there - wasn't she? just as his own feelings, it's only in retrospect that he can even begin to see hers. frank shakes his head, suddenly acutely aware of his heart pounding in his chest and the blood rushing harshly through his ears. he just wants to go back, even a few hours would be enough. his hand reaches out until it connects with her arm, but it's barely even that in anticipation of being shrugged off. ] Don't go, okay? Please don't go.
[ it's pathetic and he knows it, but he can't stomach this being the last time they see each other. he needs her. ]
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I'm scared. [ Jess stresses, spits, hisses it. It's a hideous feeling to have and uglier to own up to. It's constant toil to feel anything else through it and managing it has worn her down to the marrow. If he can't see her caring for him now, how can she promise to change? As if she doesn't want to, even for such a crappy, backwards reason. Anything is better than suspending herself in a living death, as relegated the back of her own life as she ever was on Kevin's arm.
Her abrupt switch to such a softness that the rainfall threatens to swallow it puts her off. Imperceptibly, among the shame she's already soaked in. ] It's never gonna stop. I don't know how to make it stop.
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I know, I know. [ it's not okay and he can't say it is, but after another second's hesitation, he uses their point of contact to gently pull her in against his chest. initiating a hug used to feel so normal, and now it's like he doesn't even remember how. but he puts forth the effort because it's the only tool in his arsenal against the way jess feels now. it's a lame remedy, but it's what he wants to be for her. it's easier to show her than to tell her even when he sucks at both. ]
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If she goes back, it means withholding distribution of the vaccine until Kilgrave can land himself in prison for inevitably abusing his ability. If it ever comes out that she did that, she'll deserve the witch hunt. The alternative is to postpone the inevitable for everyone's peace of mind but hers. Jess will know her choice instantly but she reels against thinking that far into it and whittling away the last splinter of control she has over herself. ]
I need more time. [ Jess stonily implores, lending no slack to her vice-like embrace. She wants him to stay. While he does, the future remains clouded. If he goes, Jess will never see him again as long as she lives -- and after she dies, his guess is as good as hers. ]
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Okay. [ as if he'd deny her now, at zero hour. his other hand finds her waist and he clings on, trying to prove to her he's not going anywhere. for as much as everyone claims to need him back in reims, frank is starting to come to terms with jess needing him just as much - maybe more. and of course she'd shied away from it; had even vehemently denied it to his face. but he was supposed to parse through all of that and get here, right? ] But if we're staying can we go back inside?
[ a soft ask, murmured close to her ear. he tries to keep some humor in there to fall back on, but he isn't sure it translates. her grip is nearly bonecrushing and yet he's loathe for her to loosen it, wanting to stay just this way for as long as they can. but they should also get out of the rain now that their clothes and better judgment have been soaked through. he winds her hair behind her ear and presses a kiss to the side of her face before resting his boulder of a head on her shoulder. for all his talk, he could stay here forever. ]
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With a heavy step, she deliberately knocks her hair loose again so that most of her profile is obscured. Along with it, hopefully, the misgiving edge to her compromise. Worst case scenario: More talking. Best case: She goes back to sleep? She doesn't know, but there's no reason to stay out here, none that can be backed up with logic. ]
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frank ducks inside and starts stripping, taking off his boots and rescuing his liquor from his pocket before getting started on the rest. it feels so nice to be rid of wet clothes he doesn't think about anything else until everything's lying in a neat pile by his boots. he picks his bottle up and lays down on top of their blankets, waiting for her to join him as the bedclothes soak up excess water from his bare skin. it's easy to sink back into silence even with the rain just outside. suddenly he's exhausted, taking a lazy sip as he meets her eyes from across the scant space. ]
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Her flannel is dry except for the buttons along the front -- and now between her shoulder blades, where her soaked hair has collected. Jess tugs it over her head instead of fussing with the buttons, then rakes all her hair over one shoulder. She twists it into a rope and squeezes rainwater over and through her fists, over the pile of wet denim. In her tank top and underwear, she shuffles away from the tent wall for warmth.
Without motions left to go through, Jess can't resist unreservedly reading him. She's never seen this much of him, most poignantly felt in the way he's looking at her. She can tell he's comfortable but it's different than it's been before, somehow. Jess settles onto her side a few inches from him, resting her head on her bent arm, watching him. For once, she isn't searching him for a motive or an advantageous fatal flaw. Just watching. She easily fills her lungs fuller than she thought they could go, but it's good. ]
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Jess has another swig from the bottle, which seems to have become her centre of gravity as she holds it to her mouth til the base hits the ground. Jess stays propped there, poorly balanced with her leg come to lie fully against his. With her hair in front of her, her armed pinned beneath her to the right and his chest walling off her left, Jess tries to expand the false sense of security that she feels in that small, dark space, until it can encompass the tent for as long as it stands. Tries. Sighing, Jess briefly rests her forehead to the bottle's mouth and then raises her head to hand it back. ]
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the hand tangled in her shirt shifts to run calloused pads along the sliver of flesh exposed to the tent, his ankle rubbing against hers as his face tips forward until their noses brush. he can smell whiskey on her breath as surely as his own, and for the first time between himself and jessica things seem easy. pleasantly, blissfully simple. ]
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Frank... [ Jess softly warns, shuddering as his breath spears through her, warmer than her own. Her hand has assumed the spot the whiskey bottle indented, planted between them to keep her stable. Instead she uses him, fingers and palm wrapping over the seam of his ribcage. Jess gently pushes back at his face, biting her lip nervously as she digs her nails shallowly into his skin. Pushing him to draw the line or step past it, finally. ]
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I don't know what you want. [ Muttered with her face tucked in too close for him to read. She had some idea before but confidence came easier when he was wandering in the dark, certain she didn't give a damn. Her hand smooths lower down his side until her thumb slips below the muscle curving over his hip. She resists the urge to scrape her lips with the stubble of his jaw. The moment is tense for her, not quite tender. ]
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his face tips in even another fraction of an inch, and he feels an electric spark at the first contact of their lips. they haven't since the treehouse, but this is a different scene in a different act - it isn't even colored the same. maybe they aren't even the same people they were then. he speaks lowly against her lips, answering her statement with a question. one he's been dying to know the answer of since he first put the pieces together. ]
When we get back- [ he can't say home. they each have some approximation of that, but trish and david are here. for all intents and purposes, their lives are here, until they aren't. and then somehow they'll be inexplicably in the same universe breathing the same toxic air all over again. he has no way of knowing if each of them will remember this place, or each other. but if they do remember and if they do remember one another, he wants to know if it means anything. he needs to. ] Are we strangers?
[ his breathing is thready, but there's no hint or inclination towards pulling away no matter what her answer is, if she has one. he thinks she's been trying not to think of 'home' as much as he has. maybe it's why he presses more intently into the line of their bodies while he waits for a reply that might not come, his fingers working insistently higher over her abdomen and one leg stubbornly tucked between hers now. ]
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Back- [ it's ludicrous but Jess will take a stab at ludicrous over impaling herself on another conversation about Reims. Her hand slips over his waist, splayed over his back. ] to New York?
[ It's asked against his mouth and then Jess leans away by a scant inch, to read his face. To let him read hers. "Home" hasn't been a factor for her in months. It's no more alive to her than Hope, Reva or her family. If it were, she would go insane. It can't be a possibility or it's one she's turned her back on just to keep from killing herself every day. She hasn't chosen to be part of the community but she's not naive enough to think leaving her options open means any more will meaningfully materialize, sorry Kamala. And he doesn't even want to go back, didn't he say that? ]
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You don't have to answer. [ he shrugs a shoulder to dismiss himself, hand tracking diligently up over her ribcage now. ]
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I can't think like that. [ And she wants to. She wants to be in a place where she can think about what she would be like and what she would do if she were to ever go home, without it completely overwhelming her. That's not here. Doubtful she'll find it anywhere, as far as she goes. She never gave up like that before Reims. Taking that person back doesn't sound worth it.
Jess can barely hang her head without knocking into his. Trying only brings them closer again. She withdraws her hand, breaking eye contact to focus on her fingertips playing reservedly along his jaw. ] I'm sorry. [ A dry swallow. ]
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his breast heaves against hers as he's breathless in moments from the hard kiss, but he draws it out for as long as he can, eyes squeezed shut as he feels every plane of her body against his acutely now, one large hand cupping the back of her head firmly. it isn't like him to take something he wants in this context, at least not with such confidence, but the second he felt her waver he knew he had to act; ever her foil. because when she inevitably takes charge again, he'll fade away and submit to her, but now in this moment he knows they both need a buoy to anchor to. ]
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Her mouth opened in a shudder. A good one, and to make sure he knows, she coils the hair at the back of his neck tightly through her fingers as she kisses him feverishly. Everywhere he touches her, gently crushes her, spurs her blood to rush faster and hotter, spilling over her nerves and leaving them softly burned, fucking aching. Jess falls to her back with him secure to her chest, legs slotted between his. She easily lifts her hips from the bedroll even with him settled on top of them, daring him to infer weakness. ]
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he doesn't hesitate now as hot hands ignite along her skin, pushing her shirt up and out of the way so his palms can learn the shape and fill of her breasts. his crooked nose slots against hers, breathing solely through the conduit of their mouths as he rolls his hips once, deeply, and gives her the benefit of another pathetic, held-back noise. he doesn't need any more than this, but knowing he's going to get it is overwhelming, still unsure if he can follow through on even the most rudimentary of physical imperatives. but he'll die trying, if that's what it takes, because it's what jess wants; and that's always been the way they operate. ]
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The noose of her arms unravels, hands sliding under his arms and up his back. The ripples of hard muscle padded with scar tissue smooth away the goosebumps, or he's so goddamn hot it feels that way. She digs her nails in under his shoulder blade, nose dragging along his brow as she tips her head back and offers her throat to him. ]
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when she digs her nails in, he opens his mouth in a sharp gasp, finding her pulse with his lips only seconds after she offers herself forward. his teeth scrape shallowly along her throat before chasing away the abrasion with more soft kisses, his embrace becoming nearly crushing - or it would be for anyone else. both his legs wind around one of her thighs, pushing his nose up until he can tug at her earlobe with his teeth next, huffing a gentle breath across the sensitive organ. everything about his touch is slow and heavy, laced with deliberate action as he tries to calm her urgency and draw this out as much as he's physically capable of. ]