erinya
in
erinya_fic
O hai, a drabble
Was glancing through my journal from the past couple of months, and I found this, which was supposed to begin a story that didn't end up existing. And since it stands well enough on its own, here it is.
Fandom: PotC
Title: Fait Accompli
Rating: PG
Pairing: J/E
Summary: Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results, and Jack, of course, is ever so sane. A moment One of several moments from AWE that broke my heart a little lot. A little late for TLAPD, but I wrote it two months ago, if that counts. Do I even have to say "angst"?
Fait Accompli
fait accompli, n. An accomplished and presumably irreversible deed or fact.
"Once was quite enough," he told her, and he didn't mean just her kiss, hot like rum, bitter and sweet and everything between. That he craved still, although he thought he'd never forget the taste of her; but not like that, not again. Not when she'd turn from him when it was done--not sorry, not ever sorry--and leave him on the deck of the Pearl, to watch her step down from the rail into the boat and away. Like Fate, she never looked back.
He'd kept his tone light; still, he saw how the words struck her. Her smile never wavered, but he was watching her eyes, and he knew.
He told himself he wasn't sorry, either, for that hurt. She'd made her choice as she had before.
There were no shackles this time, but when she turned to go, it hardly mattered.
Fandom: PotC
Title: Fait Accompli
Rating: PG
Pairing: J/E
Summary: Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results, and Jack, of course, is ever so sane. A moment One of several moments from AWE that broke my heart a little lot. A little late for TLAPD, but I wrote it two months ago, if that counts. Do I even have to say "angst"?
Fait Accompli
fait accompli, n. An accomplished and presumably irreversible deed or fact.
"Once was quite enough," he told her, and he didn't mean just her kiss, hot like rum, bitter and sweet and everything between. That he craved still, although he thought he'd never forget the taste of her; but not like that, not again. Not when she'd turn from him when it was done--not sorry, not ever sorry--and leave him on the deck of the Pearl, to watch her step down from the rail into the boat and away. Like Fate, she never looked back.
He'd kept his tone light; still, he saw how the words struck her. Her smile never wavered, but he was watching her eyes, and he knew.
He told himself he wasn't sorry, either, for that hurt. She'd made her choice as she had before.
There were no shackles this time, but when she turned to go, it hardly mattered.