pale shadow of a dragon (Jacob/Claire, PG-13)
Title: pale shadow of a dragon
Fandom: LOST
Characters: Jacob/Claire
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 488
Summary: She is the mad rhythm that plays inside his head.
Claire sighs, her breath floating away in a little puff of white, escaping into the stars glittering overhead. Jacob? Are you awake?
He responds with a nod against her shoulder. He rarely sleeps these days, it seems, her insomnia leaves a disorienting chill in the air.
Will you sing to me?
What? he laughs.
She climbs over him, the long grey t-shirt riding up over her thin legs. I'm serious.
Jacob smirks as he slides his hands over her waist. Alright. He sings to her the only song he really knows, ancient words that still flutter through his head in his brother's deep mumble. Halfway through the first line Claire tenses, her knees pressing into his ribs as if she knows what the echoed notes mean to him, how it still hurts to remember. Her fingers tighten around his wrists, and he imagines the blood's still there under her nails.
When the song is finished, she leans down, the blue fire extinguished from her eyes. She opens her mouth to speak, then closes it again, her teeth catching her lip hard enough to draw blood, if she could.
What is it? Her hair tumbles onto his neck as she shakes her head, a tiny, sad moan slipping out into the darkness. Jacob touches her chin, her porcelain skin icy under his fingertips. Claire-
She silences him with a kiss, heavy and solemn. She pulls his hands to her, wordlessly begging him to strip away everything that reminds her of herself, things she's lost that he'll never be able to understand the way she needs him to.
The island air tastes false and stale to Jacob, but when his lungs are filled with her he can almost believe they are perfect, no unspoken guilt slipping through the cracks between their bodies.
He wonders if this - if Claire - is what death feels like, cold heat flooding under his skin and over his bones and through his veins. His palm burns with the imprint of her discarded ring, the cord of her necklace still tangled around his fingers. She drags more words from his lips, pretty little promises to bring Aaron back and make her into what she once was. Jacob can't hear his own lies over her blood pounding inside his head.
When he can breathe again, when his voice and hers and the voice of his murdered brother have fallen silent, Claire presses her ear to Jacob's chest, listening to his skipping heart. Sometimes, she whispers, I wish you were dead, like me.
Jacob hides his trembling hands in the gold curls dripping down her back. Sometimes I wish I was too.
Sing it again, Jacob? In English?
He kisses her forehead, damp with cold sweat, and she closes her eyes as he whispers the lullaby, her tears pressing sharply into his skin like tiny icicles.
-it's easy to forget them without trying, with just a pocketful of starlight-
Fandom: LOST
Characters: Jacob/Claire
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 488
Summary: She is the mad rhythm that plays inside his head.
Claire sighs, her breath floating away in a little puff of white, escaping into the stars glittering overhead. Jacob? Are you awake?
He responds with a nod against her shoulder. He rarely sleeps these days, it seems, her insomnia leaves a disorienting chill in the air.
Will you sing to me?
What? he laughs.
She climbs over him, the long grey t-shirt riding up over her thin legs. I'm serious.
Jacob smirks as he slides his hands over her waist. Alright. He sings to her the only song he really knows, ancient words that still flutter through his head in his brother's deep mumble. Halfway through the first line Claire tenses, her knees pressing into his ribs as if she knows what the echoed notes mean to him, how it still hurts to remember. Her fingers tighten around his wrists, and he imagines the blood's still there under her nails.
When the song is finished, she leans down, the blue fire extinguished from her eyes. She opens her mouth to speak, then closes it again, her teeth catching her lip hard enough to draw blood, if she could.
What is it? Her hair tumbles onto his neck as she shakes her head, a tiny, sad moan slipping out into the darkness. Jacob touches her chin, her porcelain skin icy under his fingertips. Claire-
She silences him with a kiss, heavy and solemn. She pulls his hands to her, wordlessly begging him to strip away everything that reminds her of herself, things she's lost that he'll never be able to understand the way she needs him to.
The island air tastes false and stale to Jacob, but when his lungs are filled with her he can almost believe they are perfect, no unspoken guilt slipping through the cracks between their bodies.
He wonders if this - if Claire - is what death feels like, cold heat flooding under his skin and over his bones and through his veins. His palm burns with the imprint of her discarded ring, the cord of her necklace still tangled around his fingers. She drags more words from his lips, pretty little promises to bring Aaron back and make her into what she once was. Jacob can't hear his own lies over her blood pounding inside his head.
When he can breathe again, when his voice and hers and the voice of his murdered brother have fallen silent, Claire presses her ear to Jacob's chest, listening to his skipping heart. Sometimes, she whispers, I wish you were dead, like me.
Jacob hides his trembling hands in the gold curls dripping down her back. Sometimes I wish I was too.
Sing it again, Jacob? In English?
He kisses her forehead, damp with cold sweat, and she closes her eyes as he whispers the lullaby, her tears pressing sharply into his skin like tiny icicles.
-it's easy to forget them without trying, with just a pocketful of starlight-