#jack a.

SAMIRA STARES. It briefly infuriates her that the way she treats herself can somehow become about him. But sometimes, that's what a relationship is, right? They're connected in a way they weren't before—considerate in a way they've wanted to be but could never consider so explicitly.

She wants to tell him she doesn't have any other option. She wants to tell him this place is getting to her. She wants to tell him she's scared of what she's going to do, or fail to do.

That would make what she thinks she needs to do far too real.

YEAH, SHE WANTS TO CALL BULLSHIT ON THAT. Or, in less harsh terms, push back against it somewhat. Samira's not been afraid to express her skepticism towards, or be hard on, Jack for quite some time. His life choices can be so questionable that she has no other choice.

But there's something vulnerable about this that has her pausing instead of going yeah, right, because he's usually as cocky as he deserves to be.

Around her—around her—is he somehow different?

"Before this," Before what they are, "You were the cockiest person I knew."

And she admired that. She loved that, honestly.

...RIGHT.

She's already looking for an excuse to cut herself off, to change the subject. That's why she'd said I'm probably boring you to tears so abruptly during her rambling, self-indulgent explanation of how she'd study for her Biochem finals at a Persian coffee shop—how she'd gotten to know the owner and part-time employees, how they celebrated each other's successes with mutual enthusiasm.

"—everything?"

Seriously, come on, Jack.

She's right to be skeptical. She can't afford to take something like this to heart. It'd make her cocky, or give her an inflated sense of importance, or convince her she's not crazy for how she thinks he looks at her sometimes.

Like right now.

MOHAN EXHALES, NEARLY LAUGHTER AND ENTIRELY SELF-DEPRECATING.

She hadn't meant to imply she had kidnapped him or was holding him against his will—but also worth considering: this visit wasn't intended to subject Jack to the duties of a handyman.

Mohan leans against her kitchen counter, feels useless, and goes to see if he needs more water in the glass abandoned on her coffee table.

"Right. Well, if you need to send a bill, take it up with my landlord." She gestures to him, the space he occupies beneath her kitchen sink. She looks away. The water: half full.

SAMIRA'S SKEPTICAL. The outright praise could make her skittish, too, but she can't let that rattle her or compromise her nonchalance.

Besides: is it remarkable to provide the standard of care she swore to maintain, or is she just doing her job (with impossibly high stakes, with perpetual strain, with her own health to worry about)?

"I don't think so," she muses. The park had been overwhelming, borderline unpleasant. Walking back to her car, the night sky, the company—far more agreeable.

They fall asleep watching a movie. It’s late at night — they hadn’t even pressed play until an hour after Juniper finished her closing shift — and they both knew they weren’t going to last until the end. 

Besides — sleep means less distractions, means less conscious effort spent not doing exactly what she wants to do alone in a dark room with Jack. 

But eventually, they wake up. The credits are rolling; the music has stopped playing. The light from the television is in stark contrast to the darkness outside, and it disorients Juniper as she rubs the sleep from her eyes.

“What time is it?” she yawns, which wakes Jack. They are a mess of limbs, and they’re slow to solve the puzzle of their tangled bodies. 

“You smell nice,” Jack murmurs, instead of checking his watch or turning on the lamp. He is practically nuzzling Juniper’s neck; she feels tender and exposed next to him. 

She does not stop what happens next: his lips on hers, kissing her slow. Soft. He does not pull away to check for reassurance; he does not have to. Juniper is kissing him back, is pulling him close, is not thinking clearly enough to regret this. 

Toot. Mi nº1 crush a vuelto a conseguirlo. Me encanta la camisa, y aunque el conjunto en sí me recuerda un poco a Robert De Niro en ‘Dirty Grandpa’, al no tener como 80 años, lo luce muy bien.