Underground

XIV

Falling.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt yourself falling through the darkness. The bedroom had whirled and morphed into something unrecognisable, and you had fallen through an open gap in the floor. Harry had screamed your name, but it grew faint and muffled the further you fell from him.

Then, there was something soft and warm underneath you. You didn't dare to yet open your eyes; you squeezed them firmly, your breath falling short as you held it in anticipation.

And suddenly you were embraced. Arms wrapped around your body and pulled you close, and you pressed your face into someone's chest, inhaling deeply the comforting scent of peaches and oak wood. You stayed there for a moment too long, feeling your body automatically relax before you decided you needed to pull away.

And when you did pull away, your eyes locked with Jareth's comforting ones. His smile grew wide as you finally saw him; there was a tinge of cockiness to his expression, one that seemed to have known that you'd eventually call for him. You were embarrassed that he knew you so well.

"Jareth..." you mumbled, holding back the tears of relief that you felt. You could finally feel at ease knowing that Harry was far away, and that he could never hurt you again with his cruel words and lies. "You came for me."

"You asked me to," Jareth said, humming as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. It had fallen loose from the plait that hung over your shoulder. You could only imagine the state of your hair considering you had fallen through your apartment floor, but in that moment you couldn't care less.

Jareth looked exactly as you remembered him. Tall, messy, yet tamed blond hair that rested over his shoulders. A tunic shirt, with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, and a pair of dark gloves covering his hands. His trousers were tight fitting, tucked into a pair of knee high boots.

Without thinking, you buried your face back into his chest. In that moment you didn't care what his thoughts would be; you were in desperate need of comfort, and Jareth was there to provide it should you need it. As he had promised, he had come for you once you asked him to, and you couldn't help but regret not calling for him sooner.

You imagined that Jareth was probably irritated that you hadn't trusted him to begin with, that you had gone back to Harry and listened to his manipulation so easily. But you had never known another relationship other than the one you shared with Harry; you were set to marry him, to become his partner, and you wouldn't have ever imagined spending your life with someone other than him.

Before you realised what was happening, you found yourself sobbing into Jareth's shirt. You were immediately consumed from embarrassment, and you buried your face further in a futile attempt to hide your tears. Jareth's arms wrapped around your body and gently swayed you from side to side, an act to ease your sadness and brush it away.

"Now, now, dearest," Jareth crooned softly, his gloved fingers gently stroking through your hair. "There isn't any need to cry. Do you regret calling for me?"

You sniffed loudly, pulling away so you could tilt your head back and look Jareth in the eye. "Not at all," you whispered, but that didn't stop the heat from rising to your cheeks. "I regret not calling for you sooner. I am embarrassed that I waited so long, that I fell for Harry's lies."

Jareth hummed so softly that it sounded so soothing to your heart. You nuzzled into him again, and Jareth guided you over to his throne. He sat down, pulling you with him and guiding you to curl onto his lap. It was uncomfortable at first, but upon hearing how steady his heart beat, you found yourself relaxing automatically. "You cannot blame yourself," Jareth said, tutting and shaking his head, "you did what you thought was best, and isn't that enough? I am more focused that you chose to come to me after all those months of being apart."