[ buffy misses the broadcast; in fact, her journal is open, spine-up, a few feet from the couch in the cullen house. the girl herself is curled tightly up on the cushions with a sleeping bag drawn around her.
she is asleep. she's been sleeping a lot -- avoiding the kind of consciousness that comes with being awake and knowing that jack sparrow is dead.
she hugs an empty tissue box to her chest. sleep-waiting. ]
[The pirate eventually does return home. He does not want to be a burden on House 7, and isn't entirely comfortable there anyway--it reminds him too much of his convalescence after Giles's attack. The walk back to Cullen House is long, but not lonely: there is too much to occupy Jack's mind, which is mostly focused on drinking in what being alive in the world has to offer. Night sounds; wind; the scents of earth and water in the air.
He pushes open the forbidding wooden door and closes it softly behind him, unaware that anyone is here waiting. The first stop has to be the cold fireplace. He kneels there for a moment, staring at the pile of ashes inside. It feels good to be here; he can honestly say that.]
[ she dimly registers the door opening, but doesn't want to acknowledge it. maybe it was that other pirate coming home...though she had been counting the days. the return should be soon.
but she twists and turns on the cushions and sinks back into sleep. sleep's easier. her arm settles above her head, bent against the couch-arm. her sweater sleeve caught on her thumb. disorderly. ]
[Jack stiffens at the sound of movement behind him; enemy? He turns slowly, trying not to make a sound, fingers searching for the handle of one of the fire irons. He is not ready to relinquish life again.
Except...Buffy.
The pirate forgets the weapon and instead crawls to the couch and kneels beside the sleeping woman. He can only drink her in for a moment. It hasn't been that long since they'd spoken on the battlefield--a little over a week--but he feels as though it has been years.
One hand hovers near her, but he draws it back quickly; Jack doesn't want to scare her awake. Part of him doesn't want to wake her at all. She looks peaceful like this.
Finally, hesitantly, he resorts to whispering her name:]
[Nothing, really.]mikangirlMarch 8 2011, 22:27:34 UTC
[There you are.
She only heard the original announcement a couple of days ago, backtracking through entries that happened while she was out. Didn't know how to react. There didn't seem much point in mourning a man who'd be back within another few days. Logic doesn't help much.
Leaving you be because you have lots of other people intent on checking on your welfare and she can just eavesdrop on them. She's glad you're back, all the same.
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Much better, now, lass. Alive and all.
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she is asleep. she's been sleeping a lot -- avoiding the kind of consciousness that comes with being awake and knowing that jack sparrow is dead.
she hugs an empty tissue box to her chest. sleep-waiting. ]
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He pushes open the forbidding wooden door and closes it softly behind him, unaware that anyone is here waiting. The first stop has to be the cold fireplace. He kneels there for a moment, staring at the pile of ashes inside. It feels good to be here; he can honestly say that.]
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but she twists and turns on the cushions and sinks back into sleep. sleep's easier. her arm settles above her head, bent against the couch-arm. her sweater sleeve caught on her thumb. disorderly. ]
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Except...Buffy.
The pirate forgets the weapon and instead crawls to the couch and kneels beside the sleeping woman. He can only drink her in for a moment. It hasn't been that long since they'd spoken on the battlefield--a little over a week--but he feels as though it has been years.
One hand hovers near her, but he draws it back quickly; Jack doesn't want to scare her awake. Part of him doesn't want to wake her at all. She looks peaceful like this.
Finally, hesitantly, he resorts to whispering her name:]
...Buffy.
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She only heard the original announcement a couple of days ago, backtracking through entries that happened while she was out. Didn't know how to react. There didn't seem much point in mourning a man who'd be back within another few days. Logic doesn't help much.
Leaving you be because you have lots of other people intent on checking on your welfare and she can just eavesdrop on them. She's glad you're back, all the same.
Idiot.]
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