Ashes

"But I--" am sorry. Jordan didn't finish his train of thought. He let his forehead brush against Drew's, feeling just how damp her hair was against his skin as he allowed his eyes to flutter shut. The contact of their bodies was short lived -- too short-lived for Jordan's liking, though he know he'd be able to hold Drew whenever he wanted -- and Jordan found his fingers itching to reach out and pull Drew back into his grasp until he noticed her pulling her shirt off over her head. He paused, pressed his lips together in a satisfied little smile knowing that there was now an almost domestic nature to their relationship. He watched her bra and shirt drop, wet and heavy, to the floor and crossed his arms over his chest as he returned Drew's smirk. "I ruin a lot of plans, don't I?" he teased, hinting at the pair of them -- Drew's incessant remarks on not wanting him in her office, not wanting him to kiss her, not wanting him in a relationship with her. All of those plans had been entirely decimated by Jordan; he couldn't ever find it in himself to say they were 'ruined', because things felt anything but. Turning around as Drew slid out of her pants, Jordan dug one of his old academy sweaters from his closet, heavy and gray and probably far too large for Drew. He handed it to her quickly, anxious for her to warm off. "Well then get dressed, Cal, because I'm making burgers."

"Depends on what you'd like."

Jordan echoed Drew's laughter when he felt her slap him. It was worth laughing happily over that Drew was actually here and she actually loved him and she seemed genuinely happy. He didn't want to think about her being sad -- hated knowing that even if they did spend the rest of their lives together happily, that his would soon come to an end and she would be left behind in his absence -- it hurt him. Tearing his focus back to the present moment, where both he and Drew were entirely content in each other's company, Jordan let out another laugh as he remarked, "A piggy back ride wouldn't be as fun." He turned and gently plopped Drew down onto his bed, slipping onto the mattress after her, his body hovering just above hers. Jordan pressed a quick, gentle kiss to her lips before getting back out of bed and returning to the closet; he slid out of his own wet jeans and boxers before throwing on a different pair of boxers and sweats. He didn't realize just how dry his body, even his hair, felt -- if he had, he might have found it incredibly weird considering he had just stepped out of the sopping wet downpour of his shower head -- but he did not that he was warm, and therefore complied with Drew's teasing remark of staying without a shirt.  "I'm sorry again -- this is definitely not how I imagined this going." Jordan offered a small chuckle so Drew wouldn't think he was still beating himself up over it.

----So...cuddles, ice cream, and "the Notebook" tonight? I'll get to your place around nine?

Hey! First of all, I showed Stiles that video... And Stiles and I were just giving them to people who went through a lot in the fire but kept their composure, and, I don't know...I thought maybe you'd like 'em...

Maybe to people who don't know you half as well as I do...but I won't force you to tell me what's wrong. Just know I'm here if you need to vent, right?

"Neither should you." The words fell from his lips before he really registered them in his mind. With a gentle gaze at the beautiful woman in his arms, Jordan raised an almost timid hand to graze Drew's wet black hair back from her face. He was torn between the desire to stare at her in awe forever or kiss her forever; he was perfectly content with "forever" being the constant among the choices. He let those thoughts drift off to some distant fog in his mind the minute Drew's lips found his. The kiss fleeting, the laugh just as brief, Drew looked like she honestly wouldn't have rather been anywhere else but standing there, drenched, in the shower with the crazy, panicked boy on fire. It brought a smile springing to Jordan's own lips, which blossomed into a laugh echoing Drew's, as he remarked, "Everything about you is incredibly sexy, Cal." Jordan lifted Drew into his arms as he stepped from the shower, slinging her over his shoulder as he strode back into his bedroom. "Do you prefer black sweats, gray sweats, or no sweats at all?" he teased, smirking as he crossed to his closet, Drew still slung over his shoulder.

With all the panic taking over his system, Jordan hadn't even thought about how freezing Drew possibly was. Now that he was returning to normal -- suddenly aware of every shiver coursing through both his and Drew's bodies -- Jordan was scrambling to figure out what to do. Achey and sore from the pain of the water and tension of his suppressed shift, Jordan felt relieved that Drew was still holding onto him -- more so, it seemed, than she had to begin with. But he knew that just because the cold was stinging at her body the same way it did his, didn't mean that she wasn't still suffering from the chill. He took her words of love as his cue, couldn't help but smile into the crook of her neck as his arms wound tightly around Drew. He wasn't sure why his body suddenly felt so warm -- like internally he was on fire, and his skin giving off a nice glow of heat as a result. Maybe he was imagining it. Maybe it was because Drew was holding him -- she made him feel warm, after all. He wished he could do the same for her.  Jordan looked back up to face Drew, pressing a wet kiss to her own wet lips. His smile faltering to one of apology, Jordan said, "I'm sorry...sometimes it just...it happens and I wasn't expecting you for another hour I didn't...I should have locked the door..." He felt his face growing hot -- not from fire, but embarrassment -- his cheeks flushing red as he dropped his gaze. "We should get you out of those." Jordan said, clearing his throat and gesturing to Drew's wet clothes -- he became suddenly modest over his jeans being plastered to his body and figured he should probably change as well. Nothing like letting your 'not girlfriend' wear your clothing, he figured, "How do you feel about really baggy harem pants that probably won't fit you?"

Jordan stopped -- stopped everything. For a moment he felt as if Peter had punched him again. Because the fire that was prickling at his body seemed to do so no longer. His eyes still burned bright orange, but he didn't feel like he wasn't in control. He felt perfectly in control. And it was because of Drew. Because she had stepped into the shower, right into the rush of freezing water, and stopped it from spraying; because she had wound her arms around his waist and was placing her head against his body. Eyebrows shooting up on his forehead, Jordan noticed his hands were suspended in mid air, as if wanting to hold Drew, but uncertain if he should. But her words reached out to him and embraced him just as much as she was currently doing, and Jordan knew that -- just like he would never hurt Peter -- he would never hurt Drew. It was like she had joined with Peter -- the two of them willing to risk their safety for helping him. They were both holding him to reality now -- Peter reminding him that he was supernatural but able to control it, and Drew reminding him that he was human. Jordan faced Drew, resting his back against the tile of the shower. He pulled out of the hug, but only so he could look at Drew entirely. Sopping wet, fully clothed. Gorgeous. Every part of her. He blinked his orange eyes slowly, almost reverently, before realizing the actuality of the situation and becoming, once again, over whelmed with embarrassment.  "I--"  --am sorry. --am afraid. Jordan's mouth formed none of these words. He pressed his forehead to Drew's momentarily before realizing that the wetness on his face wasn't just shower water -- a natural response to pain, but one that Jordan felt even more ashamed of. He gently brushed his head down until it was resting on Drew's shoulder. His voice was strained and sore from yelling, but Jordan murmured out the only thing he could: "I love you."