Jefferfield ship blog

I savored the warmth of his lips dissipating from mine like fog lifting in the sun.

This time...

The words bounced like a ghastly echo in my mind.

He was smiling gently.

"Mr. Jefferson..." "You can call me Mark."

I tried. But Mr. Jefferson had a voluptuous ring to it I wasn't ready to put away just yet.

"What did you mean "this time"?"

His eyes caught an angle of the golden sun pouring in.

"You weren't ready the two first times."

I offered an inviting silence. His finger traced gentle circles on my cheek.

"You were terribly delicious and quite burningly enthousiastic by the lighthouse."

I recalled. I was by the viewpoint, I was looking at the bay. He had been behind me for a moment before I noticed him. He walked me to the lighthouse. He had the keys to open it. Advantages of working for the Prescotts, he had grinned. We went up. I took my shot. We stayed a little, just to see the sun go down and he walked be back to school grounds.

"You remember the shot of the bird flying directly in front of the sun, the black silhouettes of the pines, your winning shot."

I nooded.

He smiled.

"You remember one version of the events. A few more had happened. I had to rewind. I couldn't let you remember."

"Why?"

"You weren't ready."

I tried to focus as intensely as I could but... Nothing.

"Don't try, there is nothing. You would never remember if you are not the one directly performing the rewind or if the one performing doesn't include you in it."

"How... How does that happen?"

Why wasn't I more shocked by the fact that he had the same power... Assuredly stronger.

"The one rewinding has to keep a clear, unfiltered, untainted, contact with the soul of the one they want to include in the process."

He leaned in and stole a second, light playful kiss.

"Like I did with the coffee mug earlier."

My glance drifted to the perfectly intact mug on the corner of his desk. About five to ten minutes ago, that mug was shattered on the floor, the black coffee pooling and stretching tentacular arms towards both our feet. Darkness forming a poetic bridge between us.

"The second time I had the pleasure of selfishly enjoying you - and I wish I could have kept you in the loop - was by the pool, after the Vortex Party you had attended."

Victoria was always on the hunt to recruit new members. After the paint spill incident, and our differences half cleared, or put on the back burner, she used her last stash of courtesy and insisted I come to at least one party and see for myself all the glory I was missing on.

I had left the party... Shortly after Mr. Jefferson who had received a call on his phone. I needed a quiet place and I didn't feel like going out. Oddly, the one night I tried the pool, the door was open and Mr. Jefferson was there, in the water, meditating.

"You had received a call..." "Not quite exactly." He traced my lip. "I had set up an alarm that sounded like my ringing tone for exactly 20 minutes before you'd leave the party."

"So you knew..." "Mmhm."

My heart accelerated a notch. What a calculating bastard!

"You found me in the pool" he smirked "You didn't have anything underneath your red dress. I was impressed by your boldness."

I wish he had left me the memories of that moment!

"In one... Alternate choice, you invited me to your dorm room. In another, offered by only two minutes difference in the past and a small nudge of my part, we ended enjoying the same outcome on the edge of the pool."

I looked at his shoe next to beaten sneakers.

"Let me assure you; you are far more impressive in the most, purest intimacy of your being, as you are when demonstrating your passion and fever for photography."