The premise of the meme is simple. Two characters, lovers, have been separated for a time. How long is up to you, as is the reason for the separation. Was it unwilling - an imprisonment, a required journey - or because of a choice one of the characters made? The reason may, of course, color the reunion, and somebody may be pretty miffed, with good reason. Still, the theme is the same: intimacy after being apart.
This meme is mostly geared towards being a smut meme, but nobody will judge you for just doing so heavy fluff.
[He already feels badly about her having to go to the kitchen for her staff without anything she can cover herself with, but he finds himself watching her go, as if trying to burn the sight into his memory. Jack has no idea when he'll ever be able to have a reprieve like this again. He waits guiltily for her on the sofa, and though she's only gone for a few moments, when she returns he's sitting up and looking a little contrite.]
I know, Angela.
[Years ago there would have been an easiness to this kind of conversation--her sternly chastising him for one reckless maneuver or another, calling him Mr. Morrison almost playfully, but now all he feels is the weight of the situation between them. He doesn't want to sully what might be their last moments together, but staring at the bloodied bandage as she peels it off him just reminds him of what he has to do.
It only stings for a moment before the warmth of the nanites sets in and he can feel the wound stitching itself together, but he's seen the miracle enough times to keep his eyes on her, instead. He finds his hand moving before he even thinks about it, calloused thumb brushing the side of her face as she works, an unspoken thank you between them.]
[It feels as if he might as well have driven a knife into her chest for how much just the simple brush of his thumb causes her heart to ache, the tears she refuses to let herself shed anymore stinging the corners of her eyes. She knew it was going to hurt, but she's not sure she ever would have really been prepared for it. She glances up and finds him looking at her and it only twists that proverbial knife.
Before he can take it back, she reaches up and closes her hand around his, her grip tight despite her best efforts- and she presses her cheek against his knuckles. Hold me, is what she wants to say, but it feels like too much to ask of him.]
I should get dressed, [is what comes out instead, although there's little conviction in the softly spoken words, and she makes no effort to remove herself from his side. Time was ticking down and she was acting little better than a child digging her heels in and refusing to do what was needed.]
[It’s tempting to stay right where he is, the effort it takes to move almost unbearable. He leans into her, letting her keep his hand in hers, and presses his lips to her forehead. She breaks the silence before he can, and nodding in agreement is almost painful.]
They’re going to come looking soon.
[He hasn’t forgotten that she’s only bought them a limited amount of time, and getting caught is only going to ruin things for both of them, said as if something isn’t irrevocably broken between them.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cutenonny) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
bakerstreet2016-06-16 03:59 pm
no subject
I know, Angela.
[Years ago there would have been an easiness to this kind of conversation--her sternly chastising him for one reckless maneuver or another, calling him Mr. Morrison almost playfully, but now all he feels is the weight of the situation between them. He doesn't want to sully what might be their last moments together, but staring at the bloodied bandage as she peels it off him just reminds him of what he has to do.
It only stings for a moment before the warmth of the nanites sets in and he can feel the wound stitching itself together, but he's seen the miracle enough times to keep his eyes on her, instead. He finds his hand moving before he even thinks about it, calloused thumb brushing the side of her face as she works, an unspoken thank you between them.]
no subject
Before he can take it back, she reaches up and closes her hand around his, her grip tight despite her best efforts- and she presses her cheek against his knuckles. Hold me, is what she wants to say, but it feels like too much to ask of him.]
I should get dressed, [is what comes out instead, although there's little conviction in the softly spoken words, and she makes no effort to remove herself from his side. Time was ticking down and she was acting little better than a child digging her heels in and refusing to do what was needed.]
no subject
They’re going to come looking soon.
[He hasn’t forgotten that she’s only bought them a limited amount of time, and getting caught is only going to ruin things for both of them, said as if something isn’t irrevocably broken between them.]