Imagine Jax realizing you’re the only peaceful thing left in his life…
The clubhouse had finally gone quiet hours ago. Bottles left scattered across the tables, cigarette smoke still lingering in the air and old rock music humming softly through the speakers. The tension from earlier still clung to Jax like gasoline soaked into leather. Another argument. Another problem. Another night where his head felt too loud to exist in silence. The front door creaked softly when Jax stepped into the house, tired blue eyes instantly finding you curled up on the couch beneath one of his flannels. Half asleep. The television still flickering quietly across your face. He stood there for a moment longer than necessary, staring at you as if his body finally remembered how to breathe properly.
The whiskey glass in his hand remained untouched as he slowly sat down beside you, rough fingers brushing carefully through your messy hair. He sat there, enjoying your warmth as you crawled into him. Too sleepy to say anything. A yawn escaping your lips as your eyes fluttered shut, knowing he at least got home safe. Jax just sat there, fingers tangled through your hair. He watched your chest rise and fall in that peaceful and dreamy rhythm. Just watching you being this peaceful actually grounded him and it made him realize something… “Christ…” He muttered underneath his breath, exhaustion heavy in his voice. “You make all this shit quiet for a minute.”
