A First for Everything [Jersey]

[Jersey]

She watched him, silent and listening to the recording of her voice as one of the dogs approached her and she absentminded lay stroked over their fur as she waited. Her heart pounded nervously in her chest, her throat dry while her palms sweated slightly. Jersey ran her hand over the cloth of her jeans, drying them before she glanced down to see Lady stretch out before laying down completely.

Lightly, she smiled a bit before lifting her gaze back to Peter. "He's crying..." She wanted to get up and kiss the tears away, to hold him close and relax against him as she always did, but remained on her spot on the couch as she listened. Hearing herself say that she loved him, Jersey knew that she didn't think it any more, she knew that she loved him.

So when he came over, she sat up a bit carefully before returning the kiss. Her tongue softly caressed his, her hand moving to brush the tears away from his skin, ignoring when she felt a wet trail fall down her own cheek. The blonde wanted to swoon, but she settled for smiling lightly against his lips.

"I think I can get used to hearing that." Jersey teased softly, holding him close and enjoying the moment.

[Peter Parkman]

"Iloveyou," the words were a muttered mumble, a repeat, because Jersey wanted to get used to hearing it.. Rather than kiss her again, he sighed and clenched his fingers against his thigh. Every movement he made tugged at the wound in his abdomen, but he ignored it. Instead, he was completely distracted by the roiling emotion, and the desire that flexed through him like a caged lion. He remembered the way he bled. He remembered the shadowy, inky nature of his blood. He remembered the hulking, shadowy mass of the fadebeast he had recently witnessed, coming to life in front of him. He remembered how those particular monsters were born--and the desire was successfully wrangled.

He stood and manoeuvred Jersey so that she could settle on his lap - so that her shoulders rested over his arm. Long fingers combed through her hair, tickling along her scalp, before the weight of his arm fell over her torso. He gazed down at her, still concerned.

"Are you sue you're okay?" he asked. He was aware of the wetness still on his cheeks, but made no move to brush it away.

[Jersey]

"I love you, too." She smiled, watching him before she made a sound of approval when she was moved before settling back down, completely happy to sit on his lap as she set her head lightly against his shoulder. Her hands moved to rest over his arm, her thumb stroking over the skin and hair. She had never felt more content than she did at that moment.

Jersey looked up when he spoke and gave a nod of her head in confirmation, reaching up to wipe dry his cheeks before she closed her eyes and squeezed his arm after. "Yes Peter, I'm okay." She opened her eyes and looked up at him, "And you?" She asked, referring to the injury underneath her.f

[Peter Parkman]

"I'm fine," Peter said, somewhat gruff though appreciative of her concern. He was sure that he would be fine; the wound itched, and it was deep. It might take a week or so to heal completely, but it had become only a mere inconvenience, forgotten and discarded in the revelations that had followed. As she lay there, comfortable against him, Peter had to realise exactly what those revelations were. They were two people who'd just admitted their love for each other, and that was something that transcended everything else. It transcended her humanity, and Peter's lack. It made him dizzy, just thinking about it. The crease between his eyes eased, the frown replaced by a slow and meandering smile. It lid up his face belatedly.

He pulled her just that tiny bit closer, rolled her into his arms, tugging her toward him so that he could lean down and kiss her forehead.

"You should sleep," he said. He was still concerned, and was happy to stay right where he was so that she could sleep. Jack and Ellie jumped up onto the couch; Ellie forced herself in beside Peter, wedged herself between his and Jersey's body. Jack was contented to curl up between Jersey's legs.

[Jersey]

"Don't believe you considering you were shot," She mumbled, but let it pass as she considered that it were actually bothering him, she wouldn't be laying like this on him. The blonde looked up at him happily, adoration clear across her features as she stroked her thumb along his arm back and forth again.

When he smiled, her heart fluttered in her chest and she blushed before pressing a kiss to his shoulder to return the one to her forehead. Chuckling at the dogs, Jersey set her head against his skin once more, silently agreeing with his words. "I will, sometime." And even as she said it, she could feel the need to sleep taking over as she closed her eyes and listened to him breathe.

[Peter Parkman]

Peter perked a brow. He didn't tear his glistening eyes from the woman in his lap. She mentioned the gunshot wound, and his stomach flexed as he leaned back, as he tried to look at it. It wasn't rimmed red. It was rimmed black. It looked like it was infected, unnatural. He shuddered and tried not to look at it anymore.

What he wanted was for Jersey to sleep, because it would be the best way for her body to recover. Although he didn't need to breath, it was a habit that he could not break, and so he continued to breath. He continued to revel in her warmth, sucking in the scent of her. He continued to brush his fingers through her hair, until her own breathing evened and he was certain that she had fallen asleep. Although he himself did not need to sleep, nor did the inclination sweep over him, he did lean his head back against the chair. He closed his eyes.

And he couldn't help it. He replayed the scene from the bathroom, over and over again. Rather than focus on the horror, and his shame, however, he focused on how good it had felt. He remembered, and wriggled in the corner of the couch in order to make himself more comfortable. And there he would stay, until the morning, when he would pass out completely, legs sprawled, head back with mouth slightly ajar, and his arms wrapped tightly around Jersey.