Home, Home.

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2 Weeks Later

Sophie didn't think she could cry anymore, even if she'd wanted to.

Her eyelids still felt gritty from the constant dabbing of tears, which were thankfully now starting to lessen, giving her stinging eyes chance to recover.

She'd spent pretty much the first seven days cocooned in Jack's secure embrace, if she could have condensed herself to the size of a pixie and buried herself safely in his pocket she would have done in a heartbeat. He had been truly amazing.

The aftermath of the incident was not pretty for anyone involved, but following multiple police statements and submission of evidence, Ryan had finally been charged with multiple counts of harassment with violence and stalking. Sophie had since received confirmation of a restraining order against him, which meant she could finally begin the process of moving on.

She felt like a completely different woman and seemed to be going through some sort of strange grieving process to let go of the person she was before, specifically her way of thinking and how highly she prioritised herself.

Once they'd left St George's Park, Jack insisted that she returned home with him for a couple of weeks before they both were needed for the remainder of the season.

Not to his Manchester apartment, but home home.

'Soph, don't care wot ya say, it's non-negotiable'

He spoke with a no-nonsense firmness which was really rare for Jack, he's usually so laid back. But in that moment, she needed to be taken care of and it turned out that having a 'Ctrl, Alt, Delete' moment was the best thing she could have done.

His house was a stunning detached property set in the outskirts of the Midlands, it wasn't what she'd expected at all. He explained that his family stay here often and he comes back when he can, but it made sense for him to keep this comfortable base even when he moved up to Manchester.

*

Sophie's eyes flickered open but she remained in the crook of Jack's armpit, her safe space. It must have still been early as there was the glimmers of the orange glow sunrise seeping through the curtains.

He was beside her still sleeping soundly, on his back with light snores escaping his open mouth. One arm was settled behind his head and the other wrapped around her back, holding her body closely into him.

Today was the first day Sophie had woken up with that feeling of fizzing energy which was screaming out to be used. Carefully, she slowly climbed out of bed and made her way into the en-suite bathroom and once the door had been locked behind her she cautiously stood in front of the mirror to look at herself, to really look at herself.

Her brunette hair had been scraped up into a high bun for at least a week, it was begging for some TLC.
Today, she decided, would be the day she'd begin to get herself back. For her. Her hair would be washed and she aimed to wear some clothes of her own as apposed to Jack's baggy (but snug) loungewear, maybe even some light make up too.

*

A couple of hours had passed before she heard a light knock on the walk-in-wardrobe / dressing room door. She'd showered, shaved her legs and conditioned her painfully dry locks, which she was currently gliding the hair straighteners down.

'Morning you..', in he creeped, his floppy curtains hanging just below his eyebrows.
He really was something.

'I thought ya'd like a cuppah', Jack smiled, putting her mug on the carpeted floor, and sitting himself down beside her, legs crossed.

'Thank you so much', she turned off the straighteners and put them down, 'You don't know how much these little things mean to me'

She felt herself tearing up again and began fanning herself with her hands.

'Hey...', he whispered, wide-eyed, taking hold of her wrists gently, 'I love ya'.

She wondered how long it would take before she really started to love herself again, but when Jack did these things (that he probably didn't even think twice about), it gave her back that zest, even if it was just for a few minutes.

'Y'look fit bab', He was really close to her now and he'd not called her that in a while.

She looked down at his beard, it was longer than usual as he'd not shaved since coming home from SGP. Unable to resist, she ran her fingertips along his prickly yet soft jawline and carried on until her index finger rested on his plump pout. He adored being fussed and touched, it was his love language.

'Let's not start somethin' we're gonna struggle to finish eh?', Jack gulped and cleared his throat.

Sophie couldn't bring herself to speak, the fire in her belly that had been dormant for just over a couple of weeks had been re-ignited. She never stopped finding him attractive, she just needed time.

*

He was struggling to hold it together when he found himself sat next to Sophie on the floor, her touch had changed, the air surrounding them suddenly felt thick for what felt like ages. He just wanted to feel her.

It had been a rough couple of weeks.
He hadn't even wanked or anything. Not that he'd wanted to.
He was hyper-aware of his mistakes and it was important to him that Sophie knew just how loved she was and is.

Sophie's fingers traced the side of his face and slowly made their way to the back of his neck. She rested her forehead against his for a second and before he knew it they were kissing, deeply kissing. 

Her hands gripped lightly at his hair as she climbed onto his lap, straddling him. They were fully clothed and began subconsciously rocking together, making his dick ready to go almost immediately.

He pulled back.

'I'm sorry', Sophie quickly shifted her body away from him.

'Nah.. ain't railing you on the floor am I?', Jack stood up, grabbing her hand in the process, 'taking you to m'bedroom'.

*

'I needed that', Sophie gasped and Jack responded with a deep groan as they both lay together, exasperated in a cloud of post-orgasm haze for a good fifteen minutes.

'How do you feel about goin' somewhere quiet for some food later?'

She smiled at him, amused at the simplicity of wanting to satisfy his hunger so quickly after the deed.

'Shag munchies.. y'get me?', his voice was still low and gravely.

'I get you', Sophie propped herself up on one elbow next to him and lightly began joining up the light brown freckles dusted across his chest, 'I'm also ready for my pallet to experience something other than your speciality'

'And wot is my speciality', he flirted, eyebrow raised.

'Jack, I've ate 9 Chicken and Mushroom Pot noodles since I've been here'.

They laughed, properly laughed and he felt like home.

Home, home.

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