Playing Nurse [Jersey]

[Jersey]

She wondered what he was thinking as she watched him with that same grin playing across her lips. Jersey had been in the hospital for almost a month and a half before her release. A week after, she had met Peter and her boss, Mora, and Kallista had begun to feed on her. Then came their relationship, she had died and then been turned. Time went by fast and it still hadn't quite been a realization for the small blonde that it was forever.

She leaned to the side when she pushed the door shut after making sure it wouldn't smack him. Even though Jersey didn't need the oxygen, she took in a deep breath; she liked the scents that came with it, the fresh air and various things in the city. Reaching up, she pushed her hair once more behind her ears and rocked back on her heels for a moment, returning to his side after.

When his arm went around her waist, she curled into his hold as she always did. His touch comforted her, it made her feel safe and happy. At that moment, it helped her relax even more and her green eyes sparkled while she looked up at him. "It is." She chimed, "Everything is wonderful." Jersey stepped forward, her arm moving to wrap around his hips as she began to walk.

People paid no mind, cars making their way around them and she squeezed him, her green eyes studying their surroundings every now and then. "Even with this place so unique... It's kind of perfect in its own way." She looked up at him after a few moments, the smile never leaving her lips, "A good place to make a new start." And then into his mind softly, "Maybe that's why all the vampires flock here."

[Peter Parkman]

Peter frowned as the reply came straight to his mind. He kept his eyes ahead of them, his feet vaguely knowing the way to the park, and thus really not paying any attention to where they were going. It probably didn't even matter if they didn't end up in the park; a walk was a walk and the fresh air had been gained regardless. It wasn't so much the scent of it that Peter liked best, but the crispness of it in his lungs. As if stale air had gathered inside of his body - which did not need it - and he preferred to change the stale air for the fresh stuff.

When he frowned it wasn't a sad frown, but more a thoughtful one. With all the reading that he had done in the library, all the private texts kept only for vampire-kind, he knew that vampire did not flock to this city. They were always born here, because, as far as he knew, this was the hub. This was the place where reality was connected to the fade. This was where the wraiths came through, and this was where they all had to stay if they wanted a chance at coming back to life after death. Though death was a state that Peter hoped to avoid, at all costs, regardless. Who knew how long that rift would last? What if it just disappeared one day?

He loosened a thoughtful hmmm and shook his head.

"I think those particular birds are native to Harper Rock. I don't think they choose to flock here, but are just born here. And maybe if they go away, they always come back. Gives them a longer life, staying in the place they were born," he said with a grin, happy to have at least managed a coherent thought - one which he assumed Jersey would understand, given her own reference.

[Jersey]

Squeezing him as he replied, Jersey wondered quietly about what he had said and gave a small ‘hm’ of her own. It made sense and she grinned softly while she looked up at him. She understood and found the reference idea of vampires and birds amusing. But, it worked. "Agreed, at least that way, the birds are aware of their natural predators and the surrounding areas where they lurk." Jersey thought about the hunters in the sewers, the fae in the woods and quietly wondered about what else was in the city that didn’t like vampires. On CrowNet, she had read about the bounty hunters and found it all to be useless.

As they walked, she made a list about things to ask her sire about – how the vampires came to the city to begin with, are they in other places? And then she glanced at the man quietly in admiration before her lips tilted in amusement as she remembered how he’d told her about having a lot to straighten out when they admitted they liked each other. She chuckled, looking back in front of herself a moment later as she considered everything that had happened. Lightly, she slid her thumb under the hem of his shirt above the waistband of his jeans and rubbed at the skin underneath. "I’m good with staying here so long as I have you and Kalli. I don’t think I have a reason otherwise."

Jersey tucked her blonde hair behind her ear and tucked her freehand into the pocket of her jeans. "I still keep forgetting to get the camera when I’m out and about. I meant to ask Crash to grab it for me when he brought the dogs." She sighed at the thought before exhaling. Then again, she hadn’t had anything but oil for her sire and Peter’s wellbeing on her mind. Work had been a funny thing as of late, too, but when she was busy and focused, the day went by faster. Lifting her head lightly, Jersey led Peter in the direction of a bench and smiled at another passing couple.

[Peter Parkman]

”What do you need a camera for?” Peter asked. There was something about the way he was feeling; something about the way his brain was healing. The thought of eternity wasn’t so dumbfounding, not at that moment. It wasn’t a crushing weight, but a relief. A weight off his shoulders. He knew that a camera, and pictures captured on it, was a sentimental thing that of course had its merits. But there was also something to be said for just enjoying the moment, while in it, rather than being so preoccupied by trying to capture it. The moment would pass, while trying to capture it.

Peter lifted a finger to his temple.

”Our cameras are in here,” he said, smiling gently. When they found the bench, they sank down into it. Peter wasn’t so sure he wanted to sit down, however, and so stood straight back up again – his body felt like moving; it had been lying still for far too long. He wandered off the lighted path. He liked it better in the dark. He stopped somewhere just out of view of the dim lights and turned very suddenly on Jersey; his hand curled around behind her head, bending his neck to lean down and kiss her. He really did enjoy kissing her.

[Jersey]

She smiled softly at his words and chuckled, "Because the camera has the sunrise and sunset on it and I thought it’d be something nice to see again. " Jersey hummed softly, setting her head against his side as she looked up at him and returned his smile once more. "True." The blonde brushed her thumb along his skin once more, falling silent as she listened to the chatter of others in the park before simply tuning everything out but the here and now.

It was getting easier to do so without spacing out entirely.

After sitting down and standing back up, Jersey glanced over his body and smiled a bit to herself before giving a shake of her head to push away some thoughts. The sudden turning startled her, green eyes lifting immediately to his features and then, she stepped closer to him with a soft grin replacing her surprise. Leaning up to meet him into the kiss, she moved her arms to wrap around his shoulders as she stood on the tips of her toes so he wouldn’t have to strain too much.

[Peter Parkman]

Kissing Jersey was like falling into bed after a long day, or a cup of steaming hot chocolate in the peak of Winter. At least now, anyway, when Peter was half out of his wits. Here in public, where the fear of going too far wasn't a threat. To kiss her, without a single care in the world, was a blanket of security and comfort.

Ever since the murder, the trial, the witness protection, Peter's life hadn't been normal. It hadn't been the same. It hadn't really been calm. There was a man he once was; once upon a time he was the epitome of grace. He was in control of his OCD behaviour, and was presented to others as just a calm, tidy gentleman, who always had a smile ready, and who was always willing to have a nice long conversation about any and every topic.

After the incident, he changed. His OCD made him jittery. Comfort had been taken from him, swept like a rug from beneath his feet. He stayed home. He conversed with his dogs and his books rather than with other people. Calmness turned into near constant anxiety. Here, in this park, however, he had a vague sense that he was starting to regain his footing - starting to weave his own rug of calm. One that would not shift. His arm wound around Jersey's waist, holding her close. His tongue slid along her lip, touching her teeth, his lips a soft caress - falling into that kiss like falling to sleep.

[Jersey]

She slid her right hand over his shoulders, her fingertips admiring and tracing softly over the skin once it was found before she curled it against the side of his throat. Her body pressed into his, standing as close as possible while she kissed him in return thoroughly. It was one of Jersey's favorite things to do, kissing Peter.

Jersey didn't quite know why, really. Safety? The fact it was just him? When she had been away from him when she was turned, going back to him had been one of her type priorities and after she returned home, it had been difficult to leave again. Pulling back enough as if she were going to need to breathe, Jersey nudged her nose to his and grinned. "I love you." She whispered. After, she leaned up once more into another.

[Peter Parkman]

In Peter's slow, meandering state of mind, he didn't get around to responding to Jersey's declaration of love. It was a statement they often dropped for one another. And besides which, she didn't give him much of a chance as she swooped in for another kiss. Or, swooped up, as the case may be. Although Peter was certain of his feelings for Jersey, he was a man who thought that they didn't have to be spoken all of the time. Every now and again, of course - in moments of high emotion. But he was under the impression himself that the words, if spoken too often, lost their meaning. He'd seen far too many relationships break up where love was often proclaimed. Perhaps it was just modern society, but he believed that too much importance was placed into words that were so easy to say.

He wasn't exactly sure how long they stood there, making out; and he was only forced to break away when he heard the noise of someone - or something - approaching. When he opened his eyes he noticed another couple, just like he and Jersey. He and the other man shared what could have been a silent greeting of understanding. Except that there was something not quite right. The man too sure of himself, and the girl too giddy.

Of course, it was Peter's instinct telling him what was wrong. Only one heartbeat. The man was a vampire. The woman was food. And he was luring her into the shadows to feed from her, discreetly, out of the view of the public. Peter shuddered, curled his fingers through Jersey's, and mumbled something about wanting to leave. He couldn't get the image out of his mind. It disturbed him both because of the sensuality of his imagined scene, and the brutality of it. And he wanted to think of other things.

"What do you think about Spiderman?" he asked, randomly. The first question that came to mind. The first topic that might help him forget the helplessness of that woman and what her fate might be.

[Jersey]

Sliding her hands lightly down to rest against his chest as he pulled away from the kiss, Jersey opened her eyes and looked to the approaching couple. She realized what was going on a moment after Peter. The two women shared a smile, Jersey's a bit forced and weaker before she turned back to the man in front of her. Not comfortable with speaking out loud about it and after she felt his shudder, the blonde squeezed his hand tightly in return.

She remembered saying once that they could have dated and allowed people to think she was his blood doll. Would it still be the same? Jersey pondered it silently as she begun to walk. She glanced at her feet and then back up at Peter, a faint smile brought to her lips when she heard him speak. It was one of the things she had found she loved about him: his liking of superheroes. Her thumb rubbed against the back of his palm as they walked, "I don't think the movies do the character much justice, the comics are a lot better. The way they allow the reader to find a relation to Peter Parker is nice."

As she inclined her head in thought, idly swinging their hands together while she considered the comics that she'd read before a small grin played across her lips, "He's one of my favorites, possibly the favorite. Batman and Superman are the only other two I'm really aware of though so I don't really think it's fair to say I have a total favorite."

Squeezing his hand affectionately, she stepped closer to him and studied the sky for a moment. "Hm... what about you?" Jersey asked curiously, humming for a moment as she looked in front of them and slowly pushed the thought out of her own mind by focusing on the kiss that had just passed.

[Peter Parkman]

It was adorable, Peter thought, that Jersey favoured Spiderman out of only three superheroes. There was a plethora of heroic characters out there; from the godlike, to the Vigilantes, to the fence-sitters. The humans with only a coterie of gadgetry, to the infected, to those born with power, to the aliens – there were so many. And there were so many names that Peter could have picked, too. But he hadn’t been given much time, and they would have just given him a name had he not asked if it was possible to pick his own.

Why Peter Parker?

”He was just an ordinary guy,” Peter said, as if that single sentence would explain everything. Every reason why Peter preferred Spiderman to the rest. He took a breath that he did not need and stared into the space ahead of them; he didn’t want to hang out in the shadows anymore. He wanted to be enveloped by light, to allow the flimsy warmth of the electric current to remind him, if only in part, of the sun that he missed.

”He was just an ordinary guy who was forged by extraordinary circumstances. He sort of… became who he was through tragedy – spider bite or not. He had to learn to let go and move on, and to let his grief make him stronger rather than weaker,” Peter said. And then he laughed, a low rumbling sound in his chest as his arm wrapped around Jersey, though his gaze remained steadfast ahead of them.

”And he was given this thing, this new power. He didn’t choose it. It just happened. And he learned to like it,” he said. ”Maybe I somehow saw the future…”