Heart On A Stick (Jack x Ralph)

Paranoia

Jack smirked to himself after giving Ralph the rose. He went to the restroom to wash his face and comb his hair, and when he returned, Ralph was washing the dishes and cleaning the kitchen a bit. "Um, Ralph? What are you doing?" Ralph, without turning to face him, answered. "Just keeping neat. Why?" Jack shrugged. "I was going to do it." Ralph nodded. "I've got it this once, you made the food anyway. It's the kind thing to do." Jack wanted to argue back, but decided he was better off not. He sat on his bed and looked at Ralph's, seeing a brown book with a ribbon and a pen holding the place of some pages. He smiled and quickly took it, stuffing it under his covers, making sure not to crinkle the pages. He changed from his pajamas into a white button-up shirt and some grey slacks, along with some shoes. Ralph was still in his pajamas, though he probably wouldn't change.

Jack sat on his bed and opened the the page Ralph was writing in before breakfast. The handwriting was frantic, a bit sloppy, yet legible. Jack read patiently, being sure to take in the information. When he was done reading, he was left with a mix of feelings. He was glad his antics were getting to Ralph, and that he liked it. He was in awe about how wonderful the writings were, the descriptions of him made him feel confident. What he didn't like was how Ralph was bouncing back and forth between it being a trap or a game. Jack knew it wasn't, he wanted Ralph to see that. He didn't want to use this to hurt him later or hold it over his head. He still enjoyed teasing and taunting him, but he wanted somebody to love. He wasn't good at being romantic, but he was going to try. He quickly returned the book to where it once rested and went back into the kitchen for his coffee. "Ralph?" Jack said. "Hm?" Ralph replied as he cleaned a pan. "Would you like to go on a walk with me this evening? The sunsets are beautiful on this side."

Ralph stopped washing for a moment before finishing it quickly. He turned and faced Jack, expecting to see that grin, but there wasn't one. There was a warm smile he'd only seen a few times before. Off-put, he looked at the ground. "Perhaps if I'm not tired." Jack put his hand on Ralph's cheek. "Alright, darling." He had a gentle look in his eyes, not the menacing, hungry one Ralph was used to. His stomach flipped and flopped, his cheeks burned. "You're so small." Jack said, giggling. "Oh, piss off. Not everybody has long legs like you, you bloody giraffe." Jack chuckled. "You're the perfect size for cuddling. Actually, as a matter of fact-" He picked up Ralph and held him bridal style. Ralph opened his mouth to protest before Jack hushed him.

"Just let me hold you." He said in a sing-songy tone. Ralph crossed his arms and huffed, which Jack mocked. He sat on his bed, placing Ralph on his lap. "I'm not so scary if you don't pretend I am, hm?" Ralph huffed. "You're terrifying. You damn near bloody killed me before we ended up here. It hasn't even been a week." Ralph said sternly. Jack thought of what to say. "That wasn't all my fault- The island made us not like ourselves, Ralph." Ralph glared at Jack. "Samneric told me you were going to put my head on a stick." Jack shrugged. "We were, but-" Ralph cut him off. "You're only doing all of this so you can hurt me. That's your goal, I know it now. There's no way you really care. You can call me your darling, give me flowers, cuddle and hug me, but I know your game, Merridew. And I refuse to lose it." The room was silent after that. Jack attempted to pull his thoughts together, but couldn't.

"Ralph.." Ralph was looking away, unsure of how he felt anymore. Jack sighed deeply. "Come on the walk with me. We can talk, perhaps clear a few things up. I don't expect you to forgive me, I know you're more emotional than I am anyway." Jack gently held Ralph's hand. Ralph looked at Jack, an unsure expression on his face. "What can I do to prove to you I don't want to harm you?" Ralph thought for a moment. "Um, I dunno." Jack nodded. "Well, when you do, tell me. But anyway, is that a yes to the walk?" Ralph inhaled, and exhaled the answer. "Yes." Jack nodded, letting go of Ralph's hand. "Very well, be on your way. I'll give you some space." Ralph slid off Jack's lap and grabbed his journal. He sat in the kitchen, writing more about that damn Merridew.

I'm torn. It's simple; I'm torn. Jack has just given me space. He's trying to make me trust him again. I sort of snapped at him about how I know his game, and he seemed disheartened. The hate he once had in his eyes was gone, it was only some type of sadness I cannot describe. I'm starting to think he truly has feelings for me. He's invited me to walk with him tonight during the sunset, he says we can 'clear some things up'. He said the island changed us, which I can certainly attest to. He certainly wasn't as aggressive in the beginning of our stay on the island, I remember how he smiled at me. He seemed so admirable then. So...I can't seem to find the words. So brave, so strong? No, that isn't it. Admirable is the best substitute. I remember how- Actually, I won't speak of his shorts. In any case, I remember marching up the mountain the night Phil had his nightmare, when we went with Simon and couldn't make it back. He headed up the mountain to Piggy, while we stayed behind. 'Why do you hate me?' He never answered. Wait, he truly never answered? No, he never did! I suppose the more I think about it, the less terrible he seems to be. It was after the dance everything went to bloody hell. It was decent then, right before, the separation had started but that was nothing in retrospect. Why didn't he answer? Oh gosh, it's driving me crazy. He never said. Maybe he didn't hate me? He never even gave a hint as to the answer. Or perhaps he didn't want to hurt my feelings. But if he hated me, why would he spare my feelings? This is all so confusing. My head is swirling. Why must I overthink this? All of this over some boy? A boy. We're boys. My mind is jambled. Why am I so caught in what a boy thinks of me? How he does or doesn't hate me? Oh, who am I kidding. I know exactly why I'm analyzing this as if it were an accessory to a murder. But I'm too afraid to say why. I. I don't know what else to say. I'm ashamed, honestly. I'm bloody ashamed. I wonder if Jack feels the same.

With a loud sigh, he closed the book, resting his head on it. He pondered what he had written, unable to convince himself it was okay. He did like men. He liked boys. He felt sick to his stomach- All this time he was taught a man and a woman, that was the way. But here he was, falling for Jack Merridew. Not a Mary or Sally, no, a Jack. He felt guilty, ashamed, as if he had done something terribly wrong. It was the same feeling he had when he realized what he had done to Simon, only he felt sorry for himself. A few hours later, the sun began to set. Jack got up to find Ralph, who had fell asleep in the kitchen with his head on his journal. Jack giggled and shook him gently. "Darling? Ralph? Dearest?" Ralph slowly awoke and rubbed his face. "Hullo there.." He yawned. "Oh.." He realized he fell asleep, and stood slowly, feeling light headed. He held onto Jack until his vision was no longer staticky. "About that walk?"