There is really nothing as peaceful as sleeping in the arms of someone you care for. Nothing else made me feel as safe as being surrounded by Jack's grasp. They were strong, able to keep out the scary things in the world and make it only us, even if just for a little while. The way they snuggly looped my waist was so utterly comfortable that I never wanted to leave his embrace. The breathing of another is something magical too; when you begin to sync your lungs with theirs, when their deepest breathes become your deepest too, that's when you feel at home. And there was truly nowhere I'd rather be than laying with Jack, my head on his chest, his arms around me, my toes brushing his legs. Waking up and simply feeling his breathe stir my hair and his grip tighten when I moved to readjust one arm that had pins and needles was something inexplicable; it was home, it was love, it was devotion, it was us.
How had I come to care so greatly for someone I had known such a short time? Perhaps it was the danger of the world we lived in, with the constant fear of things changing. It was better to throw yourself in head first than wait too long, until opportunity, person, or place had vanished. It had taken time for Jack to dive in head first, he had really just been dipping a toe into the water for a while, but I had been cliff diving since about day one. Now, we were both below the water, endlessly going down further and further, drowning in the bliss that was one another. The thing that scared me most was if we would drown or not.
My deep thoughts were interrupted by a small cough shaking the body beneath me. Jack had awoken, his morning voice so rough and feral that he had to cough to speak to me. "Essie," he whispered, his voice dragging up his throat like clothes on a washboard. "Good morning." A smile appeared for me, dimples digging into his cheeks.
I smiled back, readjusting so we were face-to-face, foreheads pressed together. "Good morning," I greeted back, our noses brushing momentarily. His arms were securely wrapped around my back, holding me firmly to his torso, every line of our bodies touching. My chin moved to rest on his chest, removing the contact of our foreheads and I stared into the green depths of his eyes. They weren't sitting still, focused on me as I was on him, but flitting about. He was looking at my hair, my nose, his hands around me, our legs further down the bed. He was taking in the whole situation while I was basking in my favorite part of it.
That seemed to be the difference between us; Jack was always taking in the full situation, the warrior in him noting the details subconsciously and keeping tabs of everything, while I was focused on one thing at a time, putting all of my senses into it. But that made us great together, when we were like this and when we were fighting. On the raid when he'd seen the spear, he had seen it because he was paying attention to everything and I had missed the weapon intended for my maiming because I had been focused solely on the target of my arrows. But together we had both areas covered, we were a team, a force to be reckoned with; and I loved it.
Without Will to barge in on us as he had last time we were in this room, I was figuring we would have to wait for Tucker to find us. Those two always seemed to be interrupting but for ironically different reasons; Will just didn't stray away from an awkward situation while Tucker wanted us to get our day started and be productive. Waking up with Jack was possibly the best and worst way to start a day because I did love it so but it made me very unproductive.
Surprisingly, it was not Tucker who disturbed our peaceful cuddles. I was beside Jack now, curled into his side and breathing in the smell of his personal musk when a light knock came on the door and it cracked. "Is it safe to come in?" Bower asked.
Jack sat up, pulling me with him. ”Yah, come in," he answered grudgingly. I figured Jack didn't want him to interrupt us but we had already removed Bower from his own room last night and it would not be fair at all to keep him out longer than he liked this morning.
YOU ARE READING
Resist
Teen FictionIn a post apocolyptic London, a tyrant has taken over in the most viscous and deadly coup d'etat the world will ever see. With life in the country clinging to existence and people struggling day to day to survive, an eighteen year old girl, Estelle...