geeky_agent | The Morning After

Stuck somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, Chris rolled over on her side. The covers slid down her bare shoulder a little. She could feel the chill of the early morning air on her skin as well as the warmth of the sunshine coming through the windows.

These tactile sensations registered in her mind and she opened her eyes.

Chris turned quickly and saw Jack beside her in bed. He was still asleep, face half-buried in the pillow and one arm stretched towards her. Jack looked peaceful and that sent a small pang to her heart.

What the hell was I thinking?

She leaned over and grabbed her robe lying on the chair. Chris slipped into it and looked over at Jack before standing up and tying the belt.

What am I going to do?

Chris felt guilty for it but she almost wished they were in Jack's room so she could just slip out. She couldn't very well do that in her room, although it was tempting to try.

I just need time to think.

She paced the floor slowly, hoping the floorboards wouldn't creak. She was caught between dreading he would wake and wanting to wake him up so they could...

So we can what? What does he expect from this? Is this a one time thing? That might hurt a little but ... oh god...what if this is more to him?

Chris rubbed her forehead a little. She really didn't want to deal with this.

What the hell was I thinking?

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"It's Father's Day," she mumbles as an explanation. She didn't know if he knew or cared. But she wanted to know if she should expect her dad knocking on the door, looking for her.

Oh God. How am I going to face him? What am I even going to say. I can't tell him. I can't.

The sinking feeling in his stomach only gets worse. Of course. How the hell could he ever have thought she wouldn't react like this? It didn't matter what happened between them, how many talks they had, how often they seemed to forget it. To her, he would always be the man that killed her father. It didn't matter that he'd looked for any way to get out of it, that he hadn't had a choice. Jesus, what the fuck had he been thinking? He hadn't been thinking, obviously. Not with his brain at least.

"Yeah, it is," he says quietly, turning and trying to hold the sheet around him as he bends to pick up his clothes from the floor.

Chris looks away as he grabs his clothes, to give him some privacy while he got dressed.

It was taking every bit of willpower she had not to lock herself in her bathroom or just leave the room completely. She just didn't want to draw this out anymore and she had no idea what to say.

"I'm sorry," she whispers. She wasn't sure what she was apologizing for, although right now it could be a lot of things.

He stops for a moment as he's about to pull on his jeans but doesn't turn to look at her. "Don't be," he says, then continues getting dressed.

He doesn't want to leve, and not like this. But at the moment, it doesn't seem like he has much of a choice. If she doesn't want him here, well, then he'll go.

Chris frowns and folds her hands tightly in her lap. For a moment she could almost cry and then a small surge of anger takes over. She was angry at him for caring, for not just leaving.

She was more angry at herself. She should have thought this through. She knew it was a mistake when they first kissed but instead of thinking she just went ahead...

Chris turns to looks at him. "I need time."

He doesn't look at her as he pulls on his shirt, instead staring at the wall. And time is the one thing I don't have.

He turns toward her as he buttons his shirt, nodding. "Okay."

"Right," Chris says softly. She's starting to wonder if she misread this. Maybe he did just want to leave, maybe this was nothing.

She should be happier about this, it's what she was hoping for a few minutes ago. Now faced with that possibility she wasn't sure if she wanted that at all.

He puts on his shoes, sitting on the edge of the bed for a moment before standing and walking around the bed toward the door. He has to pass her as he does, and as he passes he hesitates for only a moment before he reaches out and touches her cheek for a moment. Then, just as quickly, he turns and heads for the door.

She watches him leave. She wanted to explain this to him but she couldn't even explain it to herself.

Chris stood up from the bed and looked at the room for a moment. The bed was unmade and her clothes were still on the floor.

She didn't even have to try to remember every kiss, every touch from the night before.

Chris walks into the bathroom to take a shower. She promised she'd meet her dad for brunch.

The Morning After

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