A/N: Just some short Tru/Jack fluff I thought I'd share with you. I saw Woody Allen's new movie, Match Point, recently and this is sort of loosely inspired by parts of it. Enjoy it.
- Restless tonight
Because I wasted the light
Between both these times
I drew a really thin line
It's nothing I planned
And not that I can
But you should be mine
Across that line- - "One Thing" – Finger Eleven
Quiet was the night as it lay still in the pale moonlight. There was a thick air about the darkness, and it leaked its way steadily towards a room lit only by two flickering candles. There was little sound in the room, no movement that betrayed the presence of two lovers lying entwined together between the pure white sheets.
There was a rustle as he moved his arm. She flinched under his touch, strange now that she should mind his cold hands.
Lain in the still darkness for what must have been hours without a word spoken between them, the air became somewhat strained, as theirs' was a union longed for only as a release. Nothing more. And though each of them had their duties, they would forever meet with the other for this union. If not for an escape then for a desperate grasp at life. A chance to truly matter to another. To feel like they belonged. Because with each other, they knew they did.
His voice shattered through the silence, echoing eerily as it reached her. "You had a fight, didn't you?"
She sighed, near dreamily as if awakening from a light slumber. She knew what he meant. "What gave it away?"
There was a respected pause as he squeezed the back of her neck softly. Brushing dark curls from her ears he leaned forward and whispered, "You're angry."
His voice was husky, seductive. It sent shivers spilling from everywhere within her.
She blinked stray hairs from her eyes and leaned heavily into his chest. "I'm always angry with you."
He could feel the burning in his back from where she had dug her nails deep into him. He knew he deserved the pain; the anguish and torment of her own inflicted hurt. It was his penance.
"What did he say?"
She heard him, barely whispering, almost like he didn't want to know. It had never before occurred to her that he might have been jealous. "He said he hated the way I always run off without explaining. Said he doesn't want to wait for me anymore."
She knew Jensen had not meant it, that it was only a fight. One of many to come. But how many times could he say the same thing over? She knew her boyfriend could never understand the reason for her disappearing all of the time. Nobody could, save one. Jack Harper. The man she was entangled with this still night.
The light sheets were drawn tighter over her as he pulled her close, his arm engulfing her waist with a security that she hadn't expected. She shivered. His hands were cold even still.
Her voice was a deep croak, throaty and forced as she searched for the words that rested in the shadows of the back of her mind. "I needed to see you, to feel safe again. I don't know what this is, but it feels right."
"Tru," he spoke her name like it was velvet, soft and smooth through his teeth, "you know I'm here for you. Whenever you need me, I'll be there. All you have to do is ask."
Ironic how she had always said the same thing about those who needed her help. And yet he obstructed her often, stopping her calling in a dead end and letting those who defied fate slip through the cracks.
There was something to be said about poetic justice. Here they were, opposites of a kind joined together in a place shared only by lovers. Here, there was no battle for supremacy. No pressure to defeat the other. Just a pure truth. A place where they were equals, yet had no boundaries. A place where they could be together and not fear the consequences.
She didn't make a sound when she cried. She just let the tears fall freely, hot and wet and stinging her cheeks. She turned to him, her body resting against his fervently. He saw the tears, saw her crying and she let him. She let him see the hidden, almost sacred parts of her that she dared not show anyone else. In these moments she was vulnerable, a deer caught in the headlights. Not moving. Just waiting.
He took her face in his hands, stroking the sides of her cheeks and smearing the tears into her skin. Her dappled brown eyes seared into his own crystal blue ones in the glowering light of the candle flames. Her dark hair fell over her face as she leaned over him. Soft curls brushed with his skin, teasing him mercilessly. A single tear slid out of the rim of her eye and he leaned forward, capturing it in his lips, kissing it away.
They had been here many times before, not out of spite for anyone or anything, just out of magnetism. There was a pull that followed the two and forced them together. Neither of them could deny it.
"I don't know why I run," she spoke in a hushed whisper, "but I do. And I always find you."
He sighed, running a finger along her lips. He reached around her head and pulled her forward gently, touching her lips with his in a soft kiss.
Her head fell to the pillow beneath them as he leaned over her and captured her lips in a passionate lock. He broke apart, easing forward to kiss the top of her forehead. She gave a small smile, content finally, the anger dissipating from her.
He nodded with parted lips, looking down on her admirably. "I understand."
In the wake of the early morning, the two lovers had found each other once more. Neither of them really understood why it was they lay together, content and undisturbed as the moments wore on. But nor did they care. They were perfectly balanced, equal. They knew no boundaries, no outlines. Just each other. And that was all that really mattered.