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 Posted: Mon Sep 22, 2014 10:42 am
I need...
To get a grip? A little late for that. He found the wall and leaned against it for a while, just breathing and staring at the inside of his eyelids. It's just Chel, he tried to reason. It's just Chel. Nothing earth shattering. Hadn't he literally written down in her file that she'd shown plenty of signs of being interested? This wasn't a surprise whatsoever. He shouldn't be mulling it over like this, like it had to be anything more than what it was: a decision made while drunk. But the question was--
I need coffee, Jack decided tiredly.
Turning his back to the light, he risked a squint at Chel. She looked sound asleep still. He couldn't tell if that was good or bad. Well, good enough, he supposed. Neither of them had puked or gotten alcohol poisoning or got so rough one of them had gotten knocked out or anything else that might have ruined it. (Ruined what exactly?)
He had the free reign to leave, so he gathered his clothes, slapped them on, and did so.
He returned moments later with a fresh mug of coffee. Chel's gift had been forgotten in his stupor.
Leaning against the kitchenette counter, Jack closed his eyes and enjoyed his drink in the silence.
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Posted: Mon Sep 22, 2014 11:01 am
Chel waking up was not a beautiful tv drama experience. It began with an alarm that went off at 12 (parental rhetoric- if you aren't up by 12 you make your own lunch! She made her own lunch most days anyways) to which she responded with a traditional "Mmmmmmrrrrrrnnnnn" groan. The alarm went silent and five minutes later, continued. Now Chel knew she had to be up, so her hand went to fumbling for wherever the phone was. When she couldn't find it via fumbling, she finally cracked an eye open. The pain was intense, both from the light and the blaring alarm. Her hand finally connected with the phone and shut it off. She slept for 15 more minutes until deciding somthing needed to be done about her killer headache. She dared a peek over at Jack's supposed half of the bed. And he was gone. "s**t," she muttered, though if it was to Jack's absence or the pain in her head was unknown. She floundered for a bit longer, working up the effort to get her s**t together. She really hadn't pegged Jack for a hit and run kind of guy. She thought he would at least stay for free coffee and THEN ditch. That sounded more right. She slipped a smile at that. She then attempted to sit up, wiping last night out of her eyes and slapping her face a few times. Very elegant.
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Posted: Mon Sep 22, 2014 11:13 am
The alarm made him jerk and nearly spill his coffee. Plugging his hear, he glared at Chel and then regretted putting his eyes anywhere near the light. He growled some more, turned his head away, and shut his eyes. "Two seconds into the day n' you're already pissing me off."
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Posted: Mon Sep 22, 2014 11:20 am
Chel let out another groan. "Stop talking too loud." So Jack WAS here. She wasn't sure how to feel about that yet. She was too busy trying not to summon Tenebrae to cut off her own head. "You need coffee?" she asked, rubbing her face. Her senses were too barraged at the moment to recognize the sight and smell of coffee in his hands.
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Posted: Mon Sep 22, 2014 11:36 am
"M'fine," he answered in a lower tone. Leaning. Brooding. Tousled. He thought he put his pants on, but he was still in boxers and his coat was still forgotten somewhere in her room: upper half messy, lower half surprisingly normal for someone who pretended to be better than that. A few scars were faintly visible, straight lines down his legs and arms.
Jack sipped more coffee and soothed himself with the smell of hazelnut. "That what you asked every day I was gone?" He hadn't forgotten the slip she made through their texts, and it made him feel better making fun of Chel. More normal.
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Posted: Mon Sep 22, 2014 12:09 pm
"Yup. Everyday I thought god I wish someone would insult me right now. That would make my day," she retorted. Hands fumbled for the nearest clothing-like object. A shirt. Who's shirt? Who cared, it was going on. Eventually she found her underwear as well. Underwear and some t-shirt consisted as fully dressed, so she stood up, wobbling and grabbing at air for a support that didn't exist. "Ugh my mouth tastes gross." She didn't want to know why. She stumbled over to her mirror, looking at herself. Hair was twisted and hilarious. Makeup down the side of her face. In other words, beautiful. She grinned and tied up her hair once more (brushing dyed hair was asking for it to fall out) and wiped her face with a makeup wipe. Her head hurt too much to for anything but to wipe it off. "Surprised you stayed," she commented.
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Posted: Mon Sep 22, 2014 12:20 pm
"I bet it does." It was unclear whether he meant the "make my day" comment or the "mouth tastes gross" one.
He continued to study the inside of his eyelids, willing his headache to go away. "I would've left," Jack admitted, tilting the mug up. "But friends get better treatment than that."
He didn't like messes, even though he was often the catalyst or at least caught in the middle of one. There was a need to clear the air because he could work with parameters, not with vague...whatever this was. Even though for once he was wary of finding out.
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Posted: Mon Sep 22, 2014 12:28 pm
"Friends?" she questioned, having finished her face. Again she made the stumbling walk over to another part of her room. This time it was to Jack, who she promptly slouched over in her normal Chel way. Her head sat on his shoulder while her arms twisted in front of him. They weren't being used to hug him, they just hung in the air as she used him for obnoxiously invasive support. "So we're friends?" Even Chel was unsure if she meant "that close?" Or "only that?" She was kind of feeling both.
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Posted: Mon Sep 22, 2014 12:47 pm
His body stiffened at the contact like it always did, like at any moment she'd be shoved off. "Something like that," he muttered, feeling strangely hollow. Food and hospitality and a coffee machine for sex, he had concluded last night. Fair enough, he'd called it. It justified his theory, after all, that nobody did a goddamn thing without an ulterior motive, and sex was the most base and common impulse of them.
Chel had been close to making him doubt that. But now here they were, and he had given in and roughly treated her, and now he supposed there was nothing left to chase as far as she was concerned, nothing left that was interesting.
He was supposed to feel better now that he knew he was right (wasn't he always?), but he didn't feel anything at all. Even his coffee barely had any taste.
"So what now, Craft?" he asked tonelessly.
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Posted: Mon Sep 22, 2014 1:09 pm
Something like that? She would take it. "So serious," she chided in a dreamy voice. "We didn't get married, we just ********." She held up her hand and cracked her eyes open for a moment to check. No ring. Alright. Just making sure. More noncommittal shrugs came from Chel. "We're whatever you want me to be. I can shut my yap and be the night you regretted or I can be your new fake girlfriend. I don't give a s**t~" She did, she did. "Heck we could even go get married if that's what you're diggin'." She smiled into his shoulder, sassing him even at this time. She got a bit quieter and said, "Always been up to you." Because her end of the bargain was solidly sealed with her affectations, and she figured Jack had already figured that out by now.
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Posted: Mon Sep 22, 2014 1:22 pm
He appreciated her obnoxious bubbly personality because at least it gave him something else to be annoyed about other than himself. He didn't even know why he had bothered to ask because he knew Chel would just leave it up to him. She always did.
"Two fake girlfriends," Jack said with a scoff. "That'd be a new low. Which's what you've hit by having sex with me, by the way." With him and not the other way around. "Congrats. Only thing you can do now is go up."
He drained the rest of his mug and half wished it was alcohol. That was the real solution to a hangover.
Jack turned his head, opened his mouth, paused, and forgot what he was originally going to say in lieu of a new observation. "You're wearing my shirt."
That might explain why the one he was wearing felt strangely short.
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Posted: Mon Sep 22, 2014 1:35 pm
She had hit a new low? Not the other way around? She too opened her mouth to protest profusely, but instead was now also distracted by the shirt. "I look better in it." But the sass didn't hold its sting considering she brushed over it quickly. "What do you mean a new low?" She was genuinely curious. More mirthfully, and somewhat sadly, she said, "I'm the whore remember? She paused and said, "Did you go get coffee in your boxers?" She dared to kiss him lightly on the shoulder before detaching herself to scramble to the cupboard and grab herself a cup. Moving her head up at such an angle brought a whole new set of headaches. "Want some water?" Hydration was important!
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Posted: Mon Sep 22, 2014 1:48 pm
He didn't answer most of her questions because he was sure he'd regret them if he did, and he had enough of a knot in his chest without adding more tangles. Instead, Jack planted his elbows on the counter, held his head at the temples, and took deep breaths to try and stymie the beginnings of nausea bubbling in his stomach. Coffee was probably a bad idea. No, blame it on Chel daring to kiss his shoulder. That absolutely made more sense.
Ian was right: he was a such ******** drama queen. It shouldn't be this difficult. But sex with strangers was vastly different than sex with friends because the latter always ended with s**t.
"Water. Sunglasses too." He almost said please.
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Posted: Mon Sep 22, 2014 1:56 pm
She moved slowly, pouring water and spilling some on the counter due to bad aim, and placed the cup in front of Jack. She poured another cup equally as badly, but left it there to sit. The journey from the kitchen to her mirror was a difficult, aruduous one. She clattered the sunglasses off the rim of the mirror and then shuffled over to Jack, to whom she handed them over. There was only one pair (her second pair, some aviators, had been forced upon Noemi). She then had to sit down because holy s**t ow. Her face pressed firmly into the cool counter, nose squishy against the material. It was blissfully silent for a few breaths. Then Chel's chatterbox kicked in. "So the mighty Jack does have a weakness."
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Posted: Mon Sep 22, 2014 2:16 pm
He groped at the sunglasses and slid them on. It was safe to open his eyes now: half because of those and half because Chel was neither touching nor looking at him. In the few seconds of silence he drained almost half his cup with a small sigh if relief. "And what's that?" he had to ask, glancing at Chel. " Nobody can handle the sun during a hangover, okay."
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