Cat and Mouse
Title: Cat and Mouse.
Fandom: Red Eye.
Characters: Jackson/Lisa.
Rating: PG-13.
Word Count: 228.
Spoilers: None really, because it's AU.
Summary: He never touches her the way she wants.
Notes: Written for fiddlings who wanted Jackson/Lisa, with the prompt the games we play.
He's got her pinned to the wall once again; she hates the fact that it's starting to feel normal, that the tight hold he has on her wrists is almost comforting. She struggles all the same, tries to break free even though she knows she can't.
His body is hot against hers, even through their clothes, and she squirms again. She watches as he leans closer, lets his nose follow along the curve of her neck.
He never touches her the way she wants. He toys with her wrists, uses his knee to shove her legs apart, but it's never enough. She wants biting and kissing, bruises and claw marks.
He, however, just wants to play with his toy a little longer.
His smirk still sends a jolt of fear down her spine, the way his ice blue eyes look over his face. She doesn't blink, afraid that if she does he'll disappear.
She doesn't know how or when but somewhere in the middle of their twisted cat-and-mouse game, she started falling for him.
His name is no longer heavy on her tongue with distaste, but intoxicating in its possibilities.
He nearly kisses her this time; she can taste his breath on her lips. Her eyelids, against her better judgment, flutter closed and then her hands fall to her sides.
When she opens them again, the room's empty.
Fandom: Red Eye.
Characters: Jackson/Lisa.
Rating: PG-13.
Word Count: 228.
Spoilers: None really, because it's AU.
Summary: He never touches her the way she wants.
Notes: Written for fiddlings who wanted Jackson/Lisa, with the prompt the games we play.
He's got her pinned to the wall once again; she hates the fact that it's starting to feel normal, that the tight hold he has on her wrists is almost comforting. She struggles all the same, tries to break free even though she knows she can't.
His body is hot against hers, even through their clothes, and she squirms again. She watches as he leans closer, lets his nose follow along the curve of her neck.
He never touches her the way she wants. He toys with her wrists, uses his knee to shove her legs apart, but it's never enough. She wants biting and kissing, bruises and claw marks.
He, however, just wants to play with his toy a little longer.
His smirk still sends a jolt of fear down her spine, the way his ice blue eyes look over his face. She doesn't blink, afraid that if she does he'll disappear.
She doesn't know how or when but somewhere in the middle of their twisted cat-and-mouse game, she started falling for him.
His name is no longer heavy on her tongue with distaste, but intoxicating in its possibilities.
He nearly kisses her this time; she can taste his breath on her lips. Her eyelids, against her better judgment, flutter closed and then her hands fall to her sides.
When she opens them again, the room's empty.