Apples & Foxes

Evajacks ~missed me?~

A/N: I'm trying to get back into writing
and 👏 i 👏will 👏 write 👏 more! Anywho, this one might be short idk yet but it'll be cute and sweet (for once). I think I've become so delusional that I've started writing these in a way that I'm acting like I'm Evangeline (yes even a the sad topics that is I, hello). Anyways hope you like this and I can't believe we're at 40K reads whoop!!!

I'm lying on my side in bed, mindlessly messing with a bracelet I 'stole' off Jacks, which is too big around my wrist but I like having it. I've not seen him in a while. He's been away for a few days, and I'm not sure why. I'm sure he's okay. He's always okay.

I chew the inside of my cheek, wincing slightly as I move and the gauze tapped to one of my thighs pulls at my skin— that's one thing I do need to tell him when he gets back. That I relapsed yesterday. I took care of it though, patched it up nicely. Only downside is that the adhesive that keeps the gauze in place makes it hurt to just walk. I'm an idiot sometimes. I'd rather be limping because of Jacks, not because of my broken way of dealing with life. That thought makes my cheeks flush.

"I heard that last thought, Little Fox." I jump out of my skin when I hear him first, then sit up in bed to see him stood, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed, muscles taught. Jacks has clearly been busy, as he has a few day's stubble on his jaw... I'm definitely going to suggest he leave it like that more. His creamy-white shirt is rolled up to his elbows, the veins in his forearms prominently clear. I also notice how his boots are a little muddy, like he's been walking a lot these past few days. I would describe his pants, but staring at anything bellow his hips, I realise, is a bad idea considering the tone he just spoke to me in was cold. He said he heard my thoughts, which means not only does he now know I'd happily have him cause me to limp, but that I relapsed. Great.

"I can explain-" I start, but he cuts me off.

"How bad is it?" He asks, voice like gravel. I bite my lip and pull the blankets off of my body so I'm just in my dark pink slip before pulling the silk up a little so he can see the gauze plastered to my thigh between my knee and hip. "Angel." He breathes out, eyes locked on the slightly blood-stained gauze.

"I'm sorry." I murmur, looking up at him as he walks over to stand at the edge of my bed.

"No." Jacks rests a hand on one side of my face, stroking his calloused thumb over my cheek bone. I nuzzle into his palm, eyes half closed. "I'm sorry I was gone for so long."

"What were you doing?" I ask.

"Nothing important. You changed that this morning?" He nods to the gauze.

"Yes."

"Had pain meds? Antiseptic tonic from LaLa?"

"Yes and yes."

"Are you sure you're okay?" He grits out between clenched teeth, looking away. Jacks has never been one for emotion, but I know he cares for me.

"Yes." I yawn right after saying that.

Without a word, he blows out the candles and pulls off his shoes and shirt —oh my fates— and then gets into bed next to me. I lay back down on my side with my back away facing him. I don't expect Jacks to really touch me- I mean, when we sleep in the same bed it's maybe his hand squeezing my hip, or his cool fingers stroking across the freshly cut skin of my thighs or arms to cool the hot pain down. So, when he wraps both his arms around my middle and pulls me so close that my back is flush against his chest, his face buried in my hair with his nose against the back of my neck and breath between my collar bones, I let out a little squeak of surprise.

"Don't get used to this, Little Fox." Jacks mutters, the sound an almost growl as he pulls me even tighter against him. I smile and close my eyes, happily snuggling into him as I begin to drift off to sleep.
"You don't deserve the pain you go through." I vaguely hear him whisper as I slip off to sleep, but I'm so drowsy I can't tell if I was imagining it.

A/N: ... gimme.