Fractured (Part 2) [Jersey]

[Peter Parkman]

[OOC: Backdated to 5-7-14]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

<Jersey> A small groan escaped past her lips as she came to, her fingertips curling into the man's side before sliding down to the sheets between them while she stretched out her legs and her body. She held it to her chest, listening to the dog's breathing in the other room and smiled as the memory played back into her mind. Looking down at the man beside her, Jersey would have gone red had she been able to; he'd been her friend, her boyfriend and her confident, her anchor. "Mm, Peter, time get out of bed." She spoke softly to her lover, leaning down to kiss his neck before she slipped out from between the sheets and felt her hair fall down her back as she went to turn off her phone alarm.

Turning off the device completely, Jersey returned to the bedroom and crawled back underneath the sheets as she always did, wanting to linger in the bed and memories before she had to get up to match his schedule. She didn’t have to go in for work, and she supposed because she did hurt him and got her way the evening previously, she wouldn’t fight him about it.


<Peter Parkman> Peter merely mumbled something in response. He liked bed. He liked the fuzz of the early morning; the way it took his brain a couple of minutes to kick into gear. The carelessness that came with waking, clinging to the clouds of dreams as they drifted away, was something to relish and hold on to. As soon as he slipped into wakefulness his lungs began to expand and release; a habit, breathing, that he hadn't got rid of. The breaths were slow, though there was a sigh mixed in. It was only when Jersey slipped back beneath the sheets, only when Peter felt how naked she was beside him, that he remembered. The entire two evenings before clashing and clamouring into his brain like children awake and full of life at the crack of dawn. Moss green eyes flew open as his body grew tense. A shiver of remembered delight raced down his spine, stirring him in ways that he didn't want to be stirred. He ignored it, and in a split second ripped the sheets from over Jersey's body so that he could stare at the barely-there bump of her stomach. As if he could see right through. Before she could object or intervene, he had his ear laid against the flatness, eyes wide as he stared up at Jersey's face, terrified.


<Jersey> Jersey had been waiting for his reaction and when he took the sheets away, the blonde adjusted to lay on her back to let him see her stomach. Nothing had changed and she blinked at him a few times. "I'm fine, Peter." She spoke softly, watching and waiting before she adjusted to push him back onto the bed, bringing the sheets back up to their bodies as she frowned. "I'm okay." Jersey looked into his eyes, her fingertips curling into the sheets as she bit her bottom lip and waited. "We... both kind of gave in after I lost my temper and you picked me up. All hope was lost after that kiss." She felt a soft grin play across her lips at the thought of it.


<Peter Parkman> It seemed wrong, to freak out. To mar the wondrousness of it with the weight of stress, but Peter couldn't help it. He wasn't cooperative as Jersey tried to push him away. Would a fadebeast baby have a heartbeat? Would he be able to hear it, anyway? He wanted to tell Jersey to shutup, to let him listen and think but she'd shielded her body from him, and was talking as if he didn't remember. "No, I remember, I..." he swallowed. Yes, there it was - the dull ache that reminded him that his ribs were in fact broken, and that they had not yet healed. He cringed and unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth, words lurching forth of their own accord, even as his fingers reached again for Jersey's stomach, to splay out over it. "Are you sure? God.. are you sure?!"


<Jersey> She lowered the sheet to show him that her body hadn't changed, that her stomach was still flat and she was fine. Lightly, she set her hand against his and nodded, "I'm okay." Holding his hand there, Jersey scooted a bit closer before letting go, lifting her hand to rest it against his cheek. "Breathe, relax." Jersey leaned forward to press a kiss to his forehead before readjusting the sheet once more over her body, laying back down and relaxing while she watched him. Her green eyes studied his features, taking them in and trying to push other thoughts from her mind. "I would tell you if I weren't, I promise."


<Peter Parkman> Peter knew how this should go. He knew they should lay there, basking in each other's company. They should snuggle. They should remember. They should... he shook his head. He could see the time on the clock on the wall - a digital clock, showing the exact time. Programmed to do so. Something twitched in his head and he knew he couldn't stay in that bed. He didn't regret the night before. Not really. Not the parts that mattered, anyway. He didn't regret the loss of time or the routine. But he knew he HAD to go to work. How long had it been since they'd heard from him? He couldn't stay away. "I need to go shower and... and...." he didn't finish the sentence. Jersey knew. She was there every night. She knew what he had to do. He flicked the sheets from around him and stood. He paused at the doorway and came back. He leaned over the side of the bed. He brushed the hair from Jersey's face and grasped her jaw, thumb sliding over her ear. He kissed her lips, tender and loving, before he turned away again, disappeared through the door and out to the bathroom.



<Jersey> When he shook his head, Jersey looked at the clock and tried not to give a small sigh of disappointment. His evening was starting and she knew he'd start up as she simply just nodded when he trailed off. "Go, I'll be on the couch waiting for you when you get home as I usually am on my days off." She'd shower after he was gone, she'd pick up the clothes that had been discarded the day before and then possibly go train. Maybe shield her sire - although who was she kidding, she couldn't feel any ounce of anger with the amount of happiness rolling through her system. When he came back, Jersey leaned up along with his touch and into the kiss, returning it softly and contently.

"I love you." She whispered against his lips before watching him walk off. Green eyes moved from his legs to his backside and up his back, and then he was out of sight. Leaning back into the bed, Jersey stretched out once more and then got up to get dressed in one of his shirts and a pair of blue cotton shorts before going to feed the dogs, and then get their blood.



<Peter Parkman> Peter had to force himself into his routine. He had to focus on the numbers, rather than the thoughts that ricocheted around his head, and the emotions that fought for precedence in his heart. Dread, terror, love, bliss, anger - they were all there, as well as the usual anxiety, ticking away like a bomb set to explode. But the timer had blinked out, and he had no idea when the bomb would detonate. Once out of the shower he dressed - jeans, white button up, and thin black tie. He'd collect his jacket later. Of course he couldn't stand the sight of the discarded clothing, and so went about picking it up, folding it all, and depositing in the laundry basket. Although he knew he hadn't even worn his own clothing for more than an hour, he couldn't, just couldn't hang it back up again. It was as he was exiting the bedroom that the knock came on the door. The blood had arrived.

[Jersey]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

<Jersey> "You're going to have to get me a new shirt." She stated as she heard him nearby, nudging the door shut with her foot after she thanked the man for their 'dinner' before wandering back to the kitchen. "Feeling any better?" She asked, genuinely curious as she went through last nights events through her head; he'd completely gone off his schedule and she was waiting for the explosion in some manner. Setting the cups down, Jersey turned to face Peter and waited before collecting his and holding it out. Her green eyes studied his features once more, looking him over in approval before she lifted her lips into a soft and shy smile. She looked happier, more relaxed and felt entirely at ease. "You alright?"



<Peter Parkman> Peter paused in the kitchen. New shirt, indeed. Although he'd cleaned up the bedroom, evidence of their haste was still spread out over the kitchen floor. His gaze darted from benchtop to floor, already spotting two of the buttons. He resisted the urge to immediately pick them up, opting to 'eat' first. He was already trying to figure out how to respond to the first question, when she asked the second. He could only blink, the straw halfway to his lips. "I'm perfectly fine," he said, perhaps a little harsher than he intended. He bit the inside of his tongue. Obviously, the anger was still latent. He wasn't a child. He wasn't broken. He wanted to tell her that he wasn't, but he didn't. Because, truth was, he thought that might be a bald lie.


<Jersey> "I meant about last night." She explained, rolling her eyes as she took the cup from him and set it behind her. Jersey's arms wrapped around his neck, her green eyes lifting to his features. "And I don't believe you." She didn't know if it had been because the first thought that followed his answer was 'can you be more of a dick?' or but because she saw the slightest movement against his mouth. Her lips pressed into a gentle and thin line before she leaned up and pressed a kiss to his lips, backing up to get his drink once more and replace it in his hands. She sauntered away to start picking up the buttons, "I can probably fix the shirt, maybe." She looked at one of them, finding it had snapped with haste.



<Peter Parkman> It was a perfectly reasonable question to ask, Peter thought. He realised this, almost immediately, given how reluctant he had been for so long, and then to finally snap - they were standing in the place that it had happened and the memories didn't come in a rush, now, as Jersey took the cup away from him. He remembered every vivid detail, and it was easier to do so when her entangled arms caused the slightest dip in his neck, and the sharp stab of pain that accompanied the movement in his side. He remembered the details. And the why. He didn't recognise himself in his own memories and, even as Jersey kissed him he was too distracted to return the tenderness. His fingertips might have brushed her hips and his lips would have welcomed hers but beyond that, it was too close to the memory. It could all just happen all over again, like Groundhog Day. And yet different. He took the cup back as if it were an anchor, or a shield. His own eyes blinked wide as he watched. Last night. Last night. Was he okay? It wasn't as if she had raped him, but... oh, he remembered the violence of his own actions and he found himself following Jersey's movements with particular scrutiny. "I didn't... I mean... are YOU alright?" he asked, voice tremulous.


<Jersey> She thought quietly about what had happened as she picked up the buttons, holding them in her hand while she glanced to the wall where she'd pinned him and hurt him before she'd been picked up. She could feel her legs wrapping around his hips again, the feeling of his mouth on hers. "I mean... I yanked you by your shirt, hurt you," She nibbled on her bottom lip, "We'd fought, argued. Granted, the more you say it's okay for me to leave, the more likely I'm considering to mindblock you." She huffed, thinking the power was more of an annoyance than anything. Was she alright? The question went through her mind as she held the buttons to her stomach and took a drink from her cup.

The taste made her nose wrinkle as it splashed on her tongue and she immediately thought back to the previous night. Over and over again, the sounds he had made. "I've never felt any better, to be honest. I mean, I've got a few sore spots, but I'm okay."


<Peter Parkman> Peter blinked. The threat didn't do anything more than confuse him; he didn't use his powers. Did he? Not often. Not for anything wildly important. For all intents and purposes he was a very boring superhero. Not super at all. Not even a hero. Ordinary, really. He assumed that perhaps what she threatened was something different, that he somehow had it wrong, but it didn't matter. The confusion lasted all of two seconds before it was clocked out by other, more pressing matters. A few sore spots. Okay. Just okay. The sound that Peter made was something akin to a whimper. A sound one of the dogs might make when unsure whether they were in trouble or not. He turned away and, although he had absolutely no appetite, he drank his blood. One long pull after another, swallowing until the cup was empty. He didn't know how Jersey could take small sips. He had to get it over and done with as soon as possible. When he was done he heaved a sigh and bowed his head, holding the cup over the sink. "I'm sorry. I didn't know... I wasn't really in control of myself and beyond the possibility of a... a thing wriggling around inside of you now I can't bear it if I hurt you," he said. He turned back, miraculously forgetting about the cup he had yet to clean. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"


<Jersey> Jersey heard the sound and moved closer to him, finishing off her blood before she set it in the sink and slid her hands along his back. Her arms went around his waist afterwards, her body pressing gently into his as she frowned and listened to him. "Shut up." She grumbled, "Baby, I'm more than just okay." Jersey smiled, "I'm happy. I'm in love, I'm thoroughly satisfied," She had to tease him a bit and kissed his shoulder, "and many, many other positive things. I can't feel mad about anything." When he spoke, she listened and moved back enough so that he could turn around before her arms curled around his shoulders this time; it would be less of a pain on his side and as an after thought, she just adjusted to sit on the countertop before reaching over to grab his tie and pull him to her. "You didn't hurt me. And just shush about the thing. I keep going over every little sound, every whimper and gasp. Peter..." She nuzzled him softly, "if I could show you what I was feeling, I have the feeling you would never have a negative thought in your head."

<Peter Parkman> Peter didn’t take Jersey’s words at face value. He had to stand there, distracted by the feel of her body pressed up against his. It took a while, but he had to process every uttered sentence. He had to put the words together anew. He had to analyse them, silently, to make sure that they were not negative, and only as he assured himself that they were indeed very positive did he allow himself to smile, and to relax. Slowly, he was beginning to realise that he had, indeed, had a good time. He had thoroughly enjoyed the end of their night, and waking up naked beside his lover. Because he could, now, legitimately call her his lover. The anxiety still existed, however. It still clawed at the edges of his brain, and he had to shake his head. “No. If you showed me everything you were feeling, I’d probably be just as negative as I was before, if not more,” he said.

<Jersey> She fiddled with his tie idly as she watched him and grinned before she nuzzled her nose against his in reply. When she pulled back lightly, it was enough so that she could look up at him with a soft expression playing across her features. Her body relaxed at his smile, her light colored eyes taking everything in. "Oh? Share?" She grinned softly and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.

[Peter Parkman]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

<Peter Parkman> Peter sighed. He couldn’t not explain it to Jersey. She asked the question and it was probably a good idea for Peter to illuminate; but he had a feeling she wouldn’t like the answer. His arms fell, wrapping loosely around Jersey’s waist, fingers clasping lightly at the small of her back. At first, he avoided her curious gaze, but soon caught it, and held it. For a few seconds, he hesitated, before he sucked in a small breath. The answer came out in a rush. “Because it’s like feeding bread to the birds in the park. They start to expect and so they come back for more and so I think now that we’ve done it we’re both going to want more and knowing how good it makes you feel makes me feel good and we can’t, we can’t because it happened to K—“ he stopped. He’d been sworn to secrecy. He cleared his throat, and considered telling Jersey anyway… but decided against it. “—because there’s still a chance we could slip up and you’d be put in danger,” he said. As good an explanation as any.


<Jersey> Her eyebrow lifted when he cut himself off and she simply eyed him, showing that she didn't appreciate it before she traced her thumb against his neck softly. "You do realize you are the absolutely most paranoid man that I know, and yes, I do know it's a product of the OCD and it does irritate me, but it makes you, you." She then inclined her head softly as she wrapped her legs softly around his hips to draw him closer to her while her green eyes sparkled with frustration dancing beneath the surface. "Peter," Jersey sighed and brushed her lips against his momentarily before she then leaned back to look up at him. "We both know that not doing it will make it more likely to happen when we least expect it such as last night. I grabbed you, and suddenly my *** was in your hands, and we both essentially said **** it and threw caution into the wind. And we enjoyed it." The blonde pressed her lips into a soft line, "You can worry about me all you like, but the simple fact of the matter is I am able to handle danger. I'm not as fragile as I seem, my love."


<Peter Parkman> Peter groaned. Of course she would be good at this, this persuasion thing. Thus far she hadn't pushed him. Thus far, she'd only teased. Yes, they had discussed the matter and she had made her opinion known, but she'd never pushed it on him. This, however, was different. There was a look in her eyes that told him she would not be persuaded so easily this time around to let it be. Which was exactly what he feared - that, now that they had both experienced what they had, it would be harder to say no. He took a deep breath and held it for a full ten seconds. It didn't do much to ground him, that dizzy feeling that accompanies the stirring of desire; the way she has herself pressed, wrapped against him, she was hard to say no to. Peter's smile twists. "I know you're not," he said, his voice gruffer than usual - heavy with something quite foreign to him. "But I'm always going to worry. You said I could go to work tonight," he added at the last minute. A way out, maybe. Maybe.


<Jersey> She wouldn't push him, but he was going to be in for a more difficult direction and she pressed a kiss to his temple as he groaned. "I'll behave." It was a phrase she said and meant, but there were always specific limitations and ways around it. The more amusing side to of it for Jersey was that she didn't particularly know how she knew her way around with words and as he took in a deep breath, Jersey released him with her legs. "Just as if I'm going to worry when I see you're hurt. However, as sorry as I am for re-breaking your ribs, I'm not sorry for what happened last night." With that, Jersey hopped off the counter, pressing her body against his as she tilted her head back. She gave a roll of her green eyes and looked up at him. "Give me a kiss and go so you can get your butt back home and cuddle with me on the couch when you're off." She smirked, "When your other bits of your routine are done, of course."

[Jersey]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--



<Peter Parkman> And it was that simple. She hopped off the counter and agreed. Told him that she would behave. The grimace remained as she continued to talk; to say that she was not sorry for what happened. Peter shook his head, opening his mouth to reply, to tell her that he wasn't sorry either. He didn't want her to think that he had had a bad time. But, the words didn't quite reach their destination. He didn't know whether he was sorry yet, because he didn't know what kind of damage had been done. They'd been safe, but he knew the statistics. And pills wouldn't work. Yes, he did lean down to press a tender kiss against Jersey's lips - he wasn't hasty. He wanted to let her know just how much he did love her, with that kiss. At the same time, his hands rested against Jersey's hips, though the backs of his palms inched inwards. Awkwardly, obviously, probably, as if he could feel whether there was any change in her physiognomy already. There would be no change, he knew, but still. Still, he kissed her. She'd asked for one, and he would not disappoint.


<Jersey> A soft sigh escaped past her lips as she looked up at Peter with a gentle expression before he kissed her, her arms moving to rest around his neck as they usually did while she stood on the tips of her toes so he wouldn't have to arch too much from the height difference. Feeling his hands inching, she bit his bottom lip gently in warning briefly before she returned the kiss without any hesitation. She loved this man and had known it for a long time despite the difference in life vs. death. When her heart stopped beating, it hadn't changed the song, but simply shifted to a different tune. Jersey had always told him that they didn't need to be sexual and she would admit, while she did enjoy it, she wouldn't push Peter if he didn't want anything. They took small steps and the previous evening had been one giant leap. First fight and it had been the first time they slept together.


<Peter Parkman> Kissing Jersey still felt like a new experience for Peter. To begin with, he hadn't allowed their make-out sessions to get too heated, or hungry. And nothing much had changed, except this time, when he kissed her, he knew exactly where it could lead. He could picture the shape of her body beneath his, and could feel it, even as they stood erect. It was at that point that he stopped. That he pulled away, for his own sanity. Assured that some alien-like creature hadn't suddenly blossomed in her gut, he stepped back, releasing his hold. And then another step. Three full steps until he finally turned around and scampered. "I do have to go," he said. He actually didn't want to. But he was going to, anyway. There was, of course, still that OCD part of him, that frantic, anxious tic in his brain that dictated he do what he should. He had to go to work. He had to stick to the routine, otherwise he'd end up back in the dog cage. "I'll uhm. I'll see you... later," he said, walking in a small, confused circle before he finally found his briefcase.


<Jersey> A small smile played across her lips when the kiss ended, although she wasn't pleased it was, but Jersey knew how he could get and she'd have enough time with him after work, when he would be on the couch and she was considered to be his beloved distraction. It was a schedule she had fallen into willingly and as he scampered away, she watched the dogs follow Peter to the door before she whistled, bringing their attention back to her. "Alright love." Jersey responded in a chime, tempted to distract him by sending a brief replay of last night in his head as if to make a point she wanted him home right after work, but deciding against it. She knelt down as Ellie and Jack ran over to her, cuddling the two small dogs with a grin dancing across her lips.


<Peter Parkman> Peter takes one of the leads from the hooks by the door. Lady is waiting for him outside - she's the most sociable one. She's the one who gets on the best with every other dog, no matter how familiar she is with them. Peter believes that animals have communities and personalities, just like humans do. And Lady strikes him as the kind of personality that everyone's drawn to. That everyone loves. No one can hate her. He'd noticed that she has a calming influence, and so he likes to take her with him to the shelter; she is a permanent fixture. More than that, she acts as a piece of home that he takes with him. Keeps him grounded. He attaches the lead to her collar and only waves over his shoulder as he closes the front door behind him. Running away, though he knows he'll be running home, later.