For hoyt_woodrow
1. My Muse/Your Muse -- Duh.
2. A song, quote, one word prompt, letter prompt (if letter prompt make sure you say so) or brief description of what you'd like to see them do.
You Really Got Me
3. Fluffy, Angsty, Comedy or writer's choice?
I'm the queen of angst, but I'll take what you dish.
4. Rating request?
Steamier the better
5. What timeline or universe is this set in?
How 'bout right after Woodster was shot?
Merry Christmas Doc!
````
JORDAN: That's it? You've got nothing to say to me?
WOODY: Nope.
JORDAN: You lied to me, Woody. You betrayed my trust, you used me.
WOODY: At least I didn't rat you out.
JORDAN: No, you said this was about us. That you needed closure so you could move on.
WOODY: Oh, come on, Jordan. Does it always have to be about you?
JORDAN: Whoa. You need help, Woody.
WOODY: I don't need help. Especially not from you.
````
I don’t need help. Especially from you.
The words burned like a bandage being ripped of a festering wound. An injury bore of her disillusionment with the men in her life. Her boss- a mentor - that had always been her anchor and conscience. Her father, the man she’d always love, but never again trust. And her friend - her best friend. Admittedly, the most honest relationship she’d ever had in her life.
Jordan paced her office long after everyone else had called it a night.
How dare he? How dare he do this to her? Jordan knew the answer. She just didn’t want to admit it. Especially to herself.
Outside, a reluctant janitor knocked and cracked open the door.
“Dr. C, I’m sorry, but I really need to get in here. Mr. Slockum, um, has this list…..”
Jordan turned to the man in surprise.
“It’s not that I want to run you out or nothin’, but I’ve got my orders…”
“I didn’t realize what time it was,” she admitted sheepishly, reaching for her bag.
“’S`ok ma`am. I’ll be done right quick. It’s not like you’re in here enough to make a big mess.
“Looky,” he smiled, pointing at Slokum’s bonsai tree that now graced the corner of her desk. “I see you finally gave up on that other one. Can’t say if I blame you. I’d’a tossed it a long time ago.”
To make his point, the janitor reached into the trash can to pull out the dried, dead fern Jordan had dumped just that morning. It was once a live, thriving plant. That was before Woody rejected it…and her. She stared at it like it was a set of missing car keys or an accidentally misplaced million dollar check.
“No!” she said quickly. “I, ah…thanks.”
In lieu of an explanation, she simply took the plant out of the man’s hands and quickly said her good nights, all but sprinted to the parking garage.
Jordan kicked herself for hanging onto the decaying plant. To what end? It was dead. Dead, just like…. How dare he?
“Fuck him!” she exclaimed and stabbed the keys to the El Camino in the lock with such a rage that any would be muggers hiding in wait would be holding their testicles and running you their lives. She tossed the haphazard plant in the back of the truck bed before climbing in the cab.
Her trusty vehicle fired up on the first try. She could always rely on it. Jordan turned on the radio hoping for distraction and twisted the dial hoping to catch the last few minutes of Dr. Lisa’s talk show. It was too late. Lisa was off the air for the evening. Jjordan knew she could still call.
Instead she found The Kinks. Not normally her cuppa, more like Woody’s…damn him. She knew this because their songs were liberally up loaded on his Ipod. She left the station on.
Girl, you really got me goin’
You got me so I don’t know what I’m doin’
Yeah, you really got me now
You got me so I can’t sleep at night.
Girl? Hell…it was MEN that had her not sleeping for WEEKS. It only so happened that tonight it was just one in particular. Jordan frowned as she heard the helpless plant roll around the truck bed as she pulled away from the building.
See, don’t ever set me free,
I always want to be by your side.
Should she stop and rescue it?
‘Yes,’ that little voice in her head said. Stop and make him take the damn thing so you can finally sleep at night.
“Closure?” she muttered out loud. “You want closure, cowboy? Let me show you what closure is…”
It only took fifteen minutes to drive to Woody’s building. It took another five to find a parking space. By the time Jordan pulled the plant out of the back there wasn’t much left except a handful of snapped stems and a few stray leaves. Poetic, she thought, since that was all that was left of their friendship, relationship…whatever.
Jordan climbed the stairs to Woody’s apartment telling herself it would be nice to not have to deal with a suit in the morning. With Slokum gone, so was his ridiculous dress code. She knocked on Woody’s door and quickly straightened the lines of the slender sheath dress waiting for him to open. She chuckled mirthlessly. It never occurred to her that she was wearing her red one until now. When she bought the dress she stood in the changing room of the department store and remembered Woody’s reaction to the last red dress she owned.
”Hot damn.”
The curiosity of his reaction to this one was what sold it.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
His voice sounded like he was nursing a two-pack a day habit. His pasty complexion made him look like he was at the tail end of a six-week bender. Left-overs from the hell he had been living in the last six weeks.
His eyes were still as favorite-jean blue as ever…only the naive farmboy she’d once seen in their deeps was missing. Most likely dead and gone. She blinked back the urge to mourn.
“It’s after midnight, Jordan.”
“Here,” she said, thrusting the plant into his hands. “You forgot this.”
Before he could react, Jordan charged into his apartment.
“Gee, I‘m touched.” Woody palmed the pot like a football and shut the door. “If you’re here to finish telling me how to live my life you can just march that Calvin Klein wrapped ass of yours right back down stairs,” he looked off to the side clearly annoyed.
“It’s Donna Karan.”
“What?” he asked incredulously.
“DKNY, actually. The suit.”
“It looks…great on you.”
His reply was a nanosecond too late to be considered a knee-jerk sarcasm. Jordan could only assume it was a compliment. It was enough to take away some of the wind that blew her sails to his doorstep.
“Thanks, I think,” she grinned, “I must really look like…well, it’s been a helluva month.”
It was like the weight of the world was suddenly too much to shoulder. Jordan moved a pile of newspapers and made herself at home on his sofa. (Woody’s usually tidy self apparently took a vacation while he was hunting Riggs.)
Red.
Woody was seeing red and it had nothing to do with the constant ache in his gut from a cop-killer’s bullet or anger for that matter. It had everything to do with the soft, rasping sound the nylon hose on Jordan’s long legs made when she crossed them under that blood red skirt.
…hot damn...
How many times had he fantasized about her being here, with him, dressed in her red dress? Hell. How many times did he wake up, in a tangle of sweaty sheets, dreaming about her coming to him wearing nothing but those red pumps?
He glanced at her feet. No red shoes. Not that it mattered. The black peep toe pumps she had on more than made up for them. Junior twitched in agreement before Woody shut him down. He was done taking cold showers because of her.
“Why are you here?” he asked again, his tone less defensive than the first time. He rounded to the back of the sofa and dropped the plant down on his ping pong table. “And don’t tell me it’s this.”
He stood directly behind her. She’d seen him interrogate suspects in the same manner a hundred times before. The fine hairs on the back of her neck rose. It was all she could do not to jump up and challenge him. Then again, maybe that’s what he wanted. It’s not like she knew him anymore.
“You said you wanted closure,” she said, clasping her hands together in her lap. “Maybe it’s not a bad idea.”
“Don’t you think to get closure you need a relationship first?”
Jordan shifted in her seat and recrossed her legs.
“Does it still hurt?” she asked, evading the question.
He wasn’t as naïve as he liked the rest of the world think he was. The real Woodrow Wilson Hoyt never was. He knew she was avoiding him. And he knew her question was legitimate. Even if she didn‘t know it herself
“Did you have a good time at the Patti Smith concert?”
“What?”
“You never told me,” he leaned in to whisper in her ear. “Come on, I want allll the details.”
“What the hell does that have to do with anything?”
“Closure Jordan.” Woody kicked away from his spot behind her and finished circling the sofa. He didn’t stop moving until he flopped down next to her. “I would say it proved you were already moving on, but then again you and I never moved…in?.”
Woody grinned at his pun and casually draped his arm across the back on the sofa. His legs opened in a hostile stance that seemed to take up the entire room. He was waiting for her answer. He looked like he could wait her out all night if need be. The threat seeped out of every one of his pores.
You really got me….You really got me….
That damn song echoed in her head as she tried to decide on the most convenient answer to give him. Of course she didn’t go to the show. After what she’d just lived through how could she? Before dinner was even ordered, her date realized he wasn’t even going to make it up to bat, let alone score…so why bother dealing with some hyper estrogen-filled venue for nodda. They mutually decided to cut the evening short before the curtain even rose.
“I didn’t go,” she said defensively.
He leaned back. The absence of his body heat made her shiver.
“Another blind date from hell? I hope this one didn’t take a swan dive out of a window just to get away….”
The cut was deep. It was written all over her face. “I can’t believe you said that. After I told you….after everything we’ve been through.”
“Ahh,” he smirked. “We’re finally getting to the heart of it.” Woody crossed his ankles under the coffee table. “You think the little speech you gave when you thought I was dying changed anything?”
Woody’s anger was the only thing he seemed to have to hold on to, the only thing that kept him going for weeks. It just was so easy to blame her.
“For years I’ve loved you. I never hid it. Like a fool I waited, hoping you’d…recipicate. It took me almost checking out for you to say something. So sue me for believing it was just lip-service.”
“I do care. I do need you.”
“Of course you do. Who else do you have on speed dial that you can drag cross country on some wild goose chase, or call in the middle of the night when you need bail money? No, I think the only reason you wanted me to survive was so you didn’t have to break-in some other fool to…”
“Don’t,” she shouted, cutting him off.
“It’s true. Admit it and we can get on with our lives. Isn’t that what this little visit is about anyway?”
To her credit Jordan only flinched slightly. He fought that the way it made him feel, and kept on, though even as he spoke the words, he regretted them, even as he flung them at her, he wished he could take them back. For long seconds she said nothing, and just gazed at him, her eyes reflecting not only the wounds he was inflicting...but the wounds inflicted by others.
He was baiting her and Jordan knew it. Never before had a man had her so tied up in knots.
You got me so I don’t know what I’m doin’, yeah.
She slapped her hands over her ears. “SHUT UP! JUST…shut up.”
“I thought you wanted to talk…” he complained.
Jordan squeezed her eyes closed when she realized she had screamed out loud. “Not you…it. I….” By the time she opened them again he was gently cupping her shoulders in his hands.
“Hey, you okay?”
“Does it look that way?” she snapped, pushing him away. “Slocum resigned today. Garret’s back on Monday. Riggs is locked up and you’re back to full health. Everything should be back to normal….but nothing is. And it never will be again.
“I love you and I’m sorry it took a bullet for me to see it. But I did and that’s what counts. I never said those words to somebody before…”
Woody interrupted her. “Sorry isn’t good enough this time.” He let that sink in. “I’ve heard sorry one too many times from you. I need to see actions not hear empty words.”
Woody’s tone was worst than if he yelled at her.
She had been pushed to her limit. Stress. exhaustion. Maybe a delayed reaction to a violence he knew all to well, but someone like her couldn’t possibly understand. It softened her, made her more vulnerable, more touchable. His hands itched to reach out and touch her.
“I won’t make the same mistake again.”
Woody recoiled like she had just slapped him.
Without another word she turned and walked away, her head held high. He stared after her. His heart in his throat. He had deliberately hurt her pushing her away one last time.
Jordan pulled the door open, fully expecting to walk out of his life forever. Instead of crossing the threshold she turned back to him.
He met her halfway. Woody wrapped one arm around her waist and cupped the nape of her neck with the other hand, pulling her lips to his.
At the first press of his lips against hers, they both knew a line had been crossed. It was a kiss born of desperation. Of a longing so deep that neither of them had a clue what was about to hit them. Lip to toe and every point in between. It was hard to tell where she started and he stopped. Her hot tongue tangled with his until Woody thought he’d spontaneously combust.
Woody ended it only to open his mouth and suggest they move it into the bedroom. He was stopped when Jordan put a finger to his bottom lip.
“Not tonight, she said softly, using her forefinger to trace the line of his jaw and kiss softened lips. Before Woody could protest she continued. “It’s not right. Not like this. At least not yet. I care about you more than you’ll ever know. You may not believe this but I could, love you like you want me to. It’s you that needs time to remember how you feel about me too.”
She carefully extricated herself from his arms and brushed his lips with her one last time. This was a kiss of promise, like Spring after a long Winter or of….
“There’s something here neither of us can ignore forever. Someday, we’ll both be on the same page and it’ll be….amazing.
“Good night,” she whispered and quietly let herself out into the cold, dark night.
Someone once said ‘it was always the darkest before the dawn’. For the first time in weeks Jordan knew it was just a matter of time before the sun came up again...and when it did.
When it did…she’d be right there to welcome it with open arms and love in her heart.
Or so she told herself.
2. A song, quote, one word prompt, letter prompt (if letter prompt make sure you say so) or brief description of what you'd like to see them do.
You Really Got Me
3. Fluffy, Angsty, Comedy or writer's choice?
I'm the queen of angst, but I'll take what you dish.
4. Rating request?
Steamier the better
5. What timeline or universe is this set in?
How 'bout right after Woodster was shot?
Merry Christmas Doc!
````
JORDAN: That's it? You've got nothing to say to me?
WOODY: Nope.
JORDAN: You lied to me, Woody. You betrayed my trust, you used me.
WOODY: At least I didn't rat you out.
JORDAN: No, you said this was about us. That you needed closure so you could move on.
WOODY: Oh, come on, Jordan. Does it always have to be about you?
JORDAN: Whoa. You need help, Woody.
WOODY: I don't need help. Especially not from you.
````
I don’t need help. Especially from you.
The words burned like a bandage being ripped of a festering wound. An injury bore of her disillusionment with the men in her life. Her boss- a mentor - that had always been her anchor and conscience. Her father, the man she’d always love, but never again trust. And her friend - her best friend. Admittedly, the most honest relationship she’d ever had in her life.
Jordan paced her office long after everyone else had called it a night.
How dare he? How dare he do this to her? Jordan knew the answer. She just didn’t want to admit it. Especially to herself.
Outside, a reluctant janitor knocked and cracked open the door.
“Dr. C, I’m sorry, but I really need to get in here. Mr. Slockum, um, has this list…..”
Jordan turned to the man in surprise.
“It’s not that I want to run you out or nothin’, but I’ve got my orders…”
“I didn’t realize what time it was,” she admitted sheepishly, reaching for her bag.
“’S`ok ma`am. I’ll be done right quick. It’s not like you’re in here enough to make a big mess.
“Looky,” he smiled, pointing at Slokum’s bonsai tree that now graced the corner of her desk. “I see you finally gave up on that other one. Can’t say if I blame you. I’d’a tossed it a long time ago.”
To make his point, the janitor reached into the trash can to pull out the dried, dead fern Jordan had dumped just that morning. It was once a live, thriving plant. That was before Woody rejected it…and her. She stared at it like it was a set of missing car keys or an accidentally misplaced million dollar check.
“No!” she said quickly. “I, ah…thanks.”
In lieu of an explanation, she simply took the plant out of the man’s hands and quickly said her good nights, all but sprinted to the parking garage.
Jordan kicked herself for hanging onto the decaying plant. To what end? It was dead. Dead, just like…. How dare he?
“Fuck him!” she exclaimed and stabbed the keys to the El Camino in the lock with such a rage that any would be muggers hiding in wait would be holding their testicles and running you their lives. She tossed the haphazard plant in the back of the truck bed before climbing in the cab.
Her trusty vehicle fired up on the first try. She could always rely on it. Jordan turned on the radio hoping for distraction and twisted the dial hoping to catch the last few minutes of Dr. Lisa’s talk show. It was too late. Lisa was off the air for the evening. Jjordan knew she could still call.
Instead she found The Kinks. Not normally her cuppa, more like Woody’s…damn him. She knew this because their songs were liberally up loaded on his Ipod. She left the station on.
Girl, you really got me goin’
You got me so I don’t know what I’m doin’
Yeah, you really got me now
You got me so I can’t sleep at night.
Girl? Hell…it was MEN that had her not sleeping for WEEKS. It only so happened that tonight it was just one in particular. Jordan frowned as she heard the helpless plant roll around the truck bed as she pulled away from the building.
See, don’t ever set me free,
I always want to be by your side.
Should she stop and rescue it?
‘Yes,’ that little voice in her head said. Stop and make him take the damn thing so you can finally sleep at night.
“Closure?” she muttered out loud. “You want closure, cowboy? Let me show you what closure is…”
It only took fifteen minutes to drive to Woody’s building. It took another five to find a parking space. By the time Jordan pulled the plant out of the back there wasn’t much left except a handful of snapped stems and a few stray leaves. Poetic, she thought, since that was all that was left of their friendship, relationship…whatever.
Jordan climbed the stairs to Woody’s apartment telling herself it would be nice to not have to deal with a suit in the morning. With Slokum gone, so was his ridiculous dress code. She knocked on Woody’s door and quickly straightened the lines of the slender sheath dress waiting for him to open. She chuckled mirthlessly. It never occurred to her that she was wearing her red one until now. When she bought the dress she stood in the changing room of the department store and remembered Woody’s reaction to the last red dress she owned.
”Hot damn.”
The curiosity of his reaction to this one was what sold it.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
His voice sounded like he was nursing a two-pack a day habit. His pasty complexion made him look like he was at the tail end of a six-week bender. Left-overs from the hell he had been living in the last six weeks.
His eyes were still as favorite-jean blue as ever…only the naive farmboy she’d once seen in their deeps was missing. Most likely dead and gone. She blinked back the urge to mourn.
“It’s after midnight, Jordan.”
“Here,” she said, thrusting the plant into his hands. “You forgot this.”
Before he could react, Jordan charged into his apartment.
“Gee, I‘m touched.” Woody palmed the pot like a football and shut the door. “If you’re here to finish telling me how to live my life you can just march that Calvin Klein wrapped ass of yours right back down stairs,” he looked off to the side clearly annoyed.
“It’s Donna Karan.”
“What?” he asked incredulously.
“DKNY, actually. The suit.”
“It looks…great on you.”
His reply was a nanosecond too late to be considered a knee-jerk sarcasm. Jordan could only assume it was a compliment. It was enough to take away some of the wind that blew her sails to his doorstep.
“Thanks, I think,” she grinned, “I must really look like…well, it’s been a helluva month.”
It was like the weight of the world was suddenly too much to shoulder. Jordan moved a pile of newspapers and made herself at home on his sofa. (Woody’s usually tidy self apparently took a vacation while he was hunting Riggs.)
Red.
Woody was seeing red and it had nothing to do with the constant ache in his gut from a cop-killer’s bullet or anger for that matter. It had everything to do with the soft, rasping sound the nylon hose on Jordan’s long legs made when she crossed them under that blood red skirt.
…hot damn...
How many times had he fantasized about her being here, with him, dressed in her red dress? Hell. How many times did he wake up, in a tangle of sweaty sheets, dreaming about her coming to him wearing nothing but those red pumps?
He glanced at her feet. No red shoes. Not that it mattered. The black peep toe pumps she had on more than made up for them. Junior twitched in agreement before Woody shut him down. He was done taking cold showers because of her.
“Why are you here?” he asked again, his tone less defensive than the first time. He rounded to the back of the sofa and dropped the plant down on his ping pong table. “And don’t tell me it’s this.”
He stood directly behind her. She’d seen him interrogate suspects in the same manner a hundred times before. The fine hairs on the back of her neck rose. It was all she could do not to jump up and challenge him. Then again, maybe that’s what he wanted. It’s not like she knew him anymore.
“You said you wanted closure,” she said, clasping her hands together in her lap. “Maybe it’s not a bad idea.”
“Don’t you think to get closure you need a relationship first?”
Jordan shifted in her seat and recrossed her legs.
“Does it still hurt?” she asked, evading the question.
He wasn’t as naïve as he liked the rest of the world think he was. The real Woodrow Wilson Hoyt never was. He knew she was avoiding him. And he knew her question was legitimate. Even if she didn‘t know it herself
“Did you have a good time at the Patti Smith concert?”
“What?”
“You never told me,” he leaned in to whisper in her ear. “Come on, I want allll the details.”
“What the hell does that have to do with anything?”
“Closure Jordan.” Woody kicked away from his spot behind her and finished circling the sofa. He didn’t stop moving until he flopped down next to her. “I would say it proved you were already moving on, but then again you and I never moved…in?.”
Woody grinned at his pun and casually draped his arm across the back on the sofa. His legs opened in a hostile stance that seemed to take up the entire room. He was waiting for her answer. He looked like he could wait her out all night if need be. The threat seeped out of every one of his pores.
You really got me….You really got me….
That damn song echoed in her head as she tried to decide on the most convenient answer to give him. Of course she didn’t go to the show. After what she’d just lived through how could she? Before dinner was even ordered, her date realized he wasn’t even going to make it up to bat, let alone score…so why bother dealing with some hyper estrogen-filled venue for nodda. They mutually decided to cut the evening short before the curtain even rose.
“I didn’t go,” she said defensively.
He leaned back. The absence of his body heat made her shiver.
“Another blind date from hell? I hope this one didn’t take a swan dive out of a window just to get away….”
The cut was deep. It was written all over her face. “I can’t believe you said that. After I told you….after everything we’ve been through.”
“Ahh,” he smirked. “We’re finally getting to the heart of it.” Woody crossed his ankles under the coffee table. “You think the little speech you gave when you thought I was dying changed anything?”
Woody’s anger was the only thing he seemed to have to hold on to, the only thing that kept him going for weeks. It just was so easy to blame her.
“For years I’ve loved you. I never hid it. Like a fool I waited, hoping you’d…recipicate. It took me almost checking out for you to say something. So sue me for believing it was just lip-service.”
“I do care. I do need you.”
“Of course you do. Who else do you have on speed dial that you can drag cross country on some wild goose chase, or call in the middle of the night when you need bail money? No, I think the only reason you wanted me to survive was so you didn’t have to break-in some other fool to…”
“Don’t,” she shouted, cutting him off.
“It’s true. Admit it and we can get on with our lives. Isn’t that what this little visit is about anyway?”
To her credit Jordan only flinched slightly. He fought that the way it made him feel, and kept on, though even as he spoke the words, he regretted them, even as he flung them at her, he wished he could take them back. For long seconds she said nothing, and just gazed at him, her eyes reflecting not only the wounds he was inflicting...but the wounds inflicted by others.
He was baiting her and Jordan knew it. Never before had a man had her so tied up in knots.
You got me so I don’t know what I’m doin’, yeah.
She slapped her hands over her ears. “SHUT UP! JUST…shut up.”
“I thought you wanted to talk…” he complained.
Jordan squeezed her eyes closed when she realized she had screamed out loud. “Not you…it. I….” By the time she opened them again he was gently cupping her shoulders in his hands.
“Hey, you okay?”
“Does it look that way?” she snapped, pushing him away. “Slocum resigned today. Garret’s back on Monday. Riggs is locked up and you’re back to full health. Everything should be back to normal….but nothing is. And it never will be again.
“I love you and I’m sorry it took a bullet for me to see it. But I did and that’s what counts. I never said those words to somebody before…”
Woody interrupted her. “Sorry isn’t good enough this time.” He let that sink in. “I’ve heard sorry one too many times from you. I need to see actions not hear empty words.”
Woody’s tone was worst than if he yelled at her.
She had been pushed to her limit. Stress. exhaustion. Maybe a delayed reaction to a violence he knew all to well, but someone like her couldn’t possibly understand. It softened her, made her more vulnerable, more touchable. His hands itched to reach out and touch her.
“I won’t make the same mistake again.”
Woody recoiled like she had just slapped him.
Without another word she turned and walked away, her head held high. He stared after her. His heart in his throat. He had deliberately hurt her pushing her away one last time.
Jordan pulled the door open, fully expecting to walk out of his life forever. Instead of crossing the threshold she turned back to him.
He met her halfway. Woody wrapped one arm around her waist and cupped the nape of her neck with the other hand, pulling her lips to his.
At the first press of his lips against hers, they both knew a line had been crossed. It was a kiss born of desperation. Of a longing so deep that neither of them had a clue what was about to hit them. Lip to toe and every point in between. It was hard to tell where she started and he stopped. Her hot tongue tangled with his until Woody thought he’d spontaneously combust.
Woody ended it only to open his mouth and suggest they move it into the bedroom. He was stopped when Jordan put a finger to his bottom lip.
“Not tonight, she said softly, using her forefinger to trace the line of his jaw and kiss softened lips. Before Woody could protest she continued. “It’s not right. Not like this. At least not yet. I care about you more than you’ll ever know. You may not believe this but I could, love you like you want me to. It’s you that needs time to remember how you feel about me too.”
She carefully extricated herself from his arms and brushed his lips with her one last time. This was a kiss of promise, like Spring after a long Winter or of….
“There’s something here neither of us can ignore forever. Someday, we’ll both be on the same page and it’ll be….amazing.
“Good night,” she whispered and quietly let herself out into the cold, dark night.
Someone once said ‘it was always the darkest before the dawn’. For the first time in weeks Jordan knew it was just a matter of time before the sun came up again...and when it did.
When it did…she’d be right there to welcome it with open arms and love in her heart.
Or so she told herself.