break me down
break me down; sawyer/juliet; tame; 1053 words
“James.” Sawyer jerked his head up from the clipboard just in time to see an apple come flying at him. He reached out and plucked it from the air, looking around. Standing across the courtyard with a smile on her lips and an oily rag in her hands was Juliet.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t clean it with the rag,” she shouted, tossing the piece of stained material over her shoulder.
Sawyer looked at her in the sunlight and felt something stir; it wasn’t the hot animalistic growl he felt when he used to look at Kate, but something far more intense. He saw Juliet’s golden hair, the grease smudged on her forehead, her piercing eyes visible even across great expanses of jungle and he wanted her. He wanted to know who she was, what made her Juliet, but to do that he knew he would have to let her in.
Jack was the last person Sawyer had felt understood why he was the way he was, but that didn’t mean he liked it. Sawyer didn’t want Juliet to see him as anyone but James LaFleur. LaFleur was flawed, sure, but generally a nice guy. To Sawyer, he was another con. A con with no target but survival. He looked at the apple in his hand, smoothing his thumb over the smooth surface. The first time he kissed Juliet she was eating an apple.
He took a bite and walked away from Juliet. Normally he would throw back a remark or at least a dimpled grin, not just walk away with a concerned look over his face. She watched him retreat into a building and ran back to the garage where she threw herself into the routines of mechanics.
After the sun had gone down and she had eaten a sparse dinner of salad and water she found herself wandering through the barely lit courtyard in front of her house.
“Juliet.” Turning, she found Sawyer leaning against a pillar on his porch and watching her.
“James,” she said back, forcing a calm smile. “Are you okay?”
“What do you mean by that?”
“You ran off pretty quickly this afternoon.” She watched his face darken as she knew it would.
“I remembered something I had to do, that’s all.” He shifted uncomfortably and sat down on the steps, motioning for her to join him. She straightened her red blouse and sat next to him, balancing carefully on the edge of the step and resting her elbows on her knees, turning her head to look at him.
“Who am I when you talk to me?” He asked suddenly, his voice low and gravely.
“What do you mean?”
“You call me James. Not Jim, not Sawyer, not LaFleur- James. Who am I when you talk to me?”
“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “Who are you when you answer?” For the first time since he was nineteen, his mind went blank. It no longer churned through possible ways to escape from deals, to cut communication, to leave; now it stung when he blinked. He stared at his feet in the orange light, feeling the weight of Juliet’s thigh pressed against his.
“I was born James Ford, I lived as Sawyer, now I’ve loved as LaFleur.”
“Loved?” He didn’t look at her, although he wanted to. He wanted to see the light on her skin, the echo of a normal life living in a city somewhere, street lamps hovering above them.
“Don’t act surprised, Blondie.”
“James, I love you,” she said confidently. Now he did turn to look at her, kissing her. They barely touched, whispering against each other; the warm night between them eliciting the same feeling of silky air on their lips.
“You didn’t answer my question,” he said, breaking their thin contact.
She frowned at him, the shadows on her face making her look more upset with the question than she was. “Does it matter?”
“It does to me. You have no idea how goddamn hard it is for me to be this candid with someone.”
“Even someone you love?”
“Love’s not my forte, Juliet,” he said dryly. She pursed her lips and looked from her hands to the empty black jungle in front of them, across the badly lit concrete yard and into nothing- an abysmal excuse for a community.
“If you don’t want this, just tell me.” Words that hurt her to say, but fought past her lips hung between them as the warm air had moments ago.
“I just need to know who I am to you.”
Annoyance filled Juliet as she turned to him. She knew he was hurt and she knew Kate still permeated his thoughts from time to time but she needed to break down that solid door between his heart and his brain.
“To me you’re James. You’re a sweet man whom I love and who loves me back. I don’t care what you did before all of this happened, I don’t care what people you hurt or loved or loved you or hurt you, all I care about is what you became because it. The moment you stepped onto Oceanic 815 is the only moment in your life that really matters for me, James.”
Sawyer watched her stand up and storm off. He felt her heavy deliberate footsteps through the rickety porch and they fell almost in time with his heartbeats and when she entered her house and the beats stopped he inhaled shakily.
“Juliet.” She heard him through the door, voice muffled through the door, and soft to begin with.
“James,” she said back.
“I want you to now everything about me. It’s going to be painful for me, and probably for you, but it’s something I actually want. Of every place I could have found…found love, it had to be in 1978 on this damn island, and so I figure I should make the best of it.” The door swung open, causing Sawyer to tip forward a bit, his shoulder now resting against nothing.
“This won’t be an easy relationship.”
“Are relationships ever easy?” He teased. She smiled and crossed her arms.
“This is real, right? You want this?” They were both serious now, serious about themselves and the island and what it meant to them. He nodded.
“I want you to break me down.”
“James.” Sawyer jerked his head up from the clipboard just in time to see an apple come flying at him. He reached out and plucked it from the air, looking around. Standing across the courtyard with a smile on her lips and an oily rag in her hands was Juliet.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t clean it with the rag,” she shouted, tossing the piece of stained material over her shoulder.
Sawyer looked at her in the sunlight and felt something stir; it wasn’t the hot animalistic growl he felt when he used to look at Kate, but something far more intense. He saw Juliet’s golden hair, the grease smudged on her forehead, her piercing eyes visible even across great expanses of jungle and he wanted her. He wanted to know who she was, what made her Juliet, but to do that he knew he would have to let her in.
Jack was the last person Sawyer had felt understood why he was the way he was, but that didn’t mean he liked it. Sawyer didn’t want Juliet to see him as anyone but James LaFleur. LaFleur was flawed, sure, but generally a nice guy. To Sawyer, he was another con. A con with no target but survival. He looked at the apple in his hand, smoothing his thumb over the smooth surface. The first time he kissed Juliet she was eating an apple.
He took a bite and walked away from Juliet. Normally he would throw back a remark or at least a dimpled grin, not just walk away with a concerned look over his face. She watched him retreat into a building and ran back to the garage where she threw herself into the routines of mechanics.
After the sun had gone down and she had eaten a sparse dinner of salad and water she found herself wandering through the barely lit courtyard in front of her house.
“Juliet.” Turning, she found Sawyer leaning against a pillar on his porch and watching her.
“James,” she said back, forcing a calm smile. “Are you okay?”
“What do you mean by that?”
“You ran off pretty quickly this afternoon.” She watched his face darken as she knew it would.
“I remembered something I had to do, that’s all.” He shifted uncomfortably and sat down on the steps, motioning for her to join him. She straightened her red blouse and sat next to him, balancing carefully on the edge of the step and resting her elbows on her knees, turning her head to look at him.
“Who am I when you talk to me?” He asked suddenly, his voice low and gravely.
“What do you mean?”
“You call me James. Not Jim, not Sawyer, not LaFleur- James. Who am I when you talk to me?”
“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “Who are you when you answer?” For the first time since he was nineteen, his mind went blank. It no longer churned through possible ways to escape from deals, to cut communication, to leave; now it stung when he blinked. He stared at his feet in the orange light, feeling the weight of Juliet’s thigh pressed against his.
“I was born James Ford, I lived as Sawyer, now I’ve loved as LaFleur.”
“Loved?” He didn’t look at her, although he wanted to. He wanted to see the light on her skin, the echo of a normal life living in a city somewhere, street lamps hovering above them.
“Don’t act surprised, Blondie.”
“James, I love you,” she said confidently. Now he did turn to look at her, kissing her. They barely touched, whispering against each other; the warm night between them eliciting the same feeling of silky air on their lips.
“You didn’t answer my question,” he said, breaking their thin contact.
She frowned at him, the shadows on her face making her look more upset with the question than she was. “Does it matter?”
“It does to me. You have no idea how goddamn hard it is for me to be this candid with someone.”
“Even someone you love?”
“Love’s not my forte, Juliet,” he said dryly. She pursed her lips and looked from her hands to the empty black jungle in front of them, across the badly lit concrete yard and into nothing- an abysmal excuse for a community.
“If you don’t want this, just tell me.” Words that hurt her to say, but fought past her lips hung between them as the warm air had moments ago.
“I just need to know who I am to you.”
Annoyance filled Juliet as she turned to him. She knew he was hurt and she knew Kate still permeated his thoughts from time to time but she needed to break down that solid door between his heart and his brain.
“To me you’re James. You’re a sweet man whom I love and who loves me back. I don’t care what you did before all of this happened, I don’t care what people you hurt or loved or loved you or hurt you, all I care about is what you became because it. The moment you stepped onto Oceanic 815 is the only moment in your life that really matters for me, James.”
Sawyer watched her stand up and storm off. He felt her heavy deliberate footsteps through the rickety porch and they fell almost in time with his heartbeats and when she entered her house and the beats stopped he inhaled shakily.
“Juliet.” She heard him through the door, voice muffled through the door, and soft to begin with.
“James,” she said back.
“I want you to now everything about me. It’s going to be painful for me, and probably for you, but it’s something I actually want. Of every place I could have found…found love, it had to be in 1978 on this damn island, and so I figure I should make the best of it.” The door swung open, causing Sawyer to tip forward a bit, his shoulder now resting against nothing.
“This won’t be an easy relationship.”
“Are relationships ever easy?” He teased. She smiled and crossed her arms.
“This is real, right? You want this?” They were both serious now, serious about themselves and the island and what it meant to them. He nodded.
“I want you to break me down.”