Arms -Jackson-

[camille]

Camille just sat next to him now, her thoughts on what had just happened and she was completely confused as to what was going on in her own mind. Her eyes rested on the edge of the door that led to the closet, wondering if she would ever be able to find herself again. She felt like who she was had been inevitably lost when William had taken her away and beaten her until her brain started to become affected. Right now, Jackson seemed to only become angry and frustrated with her and part of her understood that he was just trying to help her release some of the tension that was causing this in the first place, but then the other side of her only wanted to scream at him to shut up and allow herself to pick her up. She wondered if he had the best intentions for her in his actions and although she may have not understood what passed between them a few moments ago, she knew that it had to be for her own good. Otherwise, what is the point of staying with him? She just needed to rest and recover, that included relaxation and restoration for her mind. She just fiddled now with the material of her shirt, staring down at the material, realizing that this would not be the best time for her, probably the worst of times. She thought at first that being tortured by William would be the worst experience, but really, dealing with the after effects would be the worst because she knew she would have to recall the experience itself which is something she was worried she could not be mentally stable for.

She felt his arms come around her torso, pulling her to him, as she faced him, his hand slipping into his as she just gazed into his eyes, feeling like such a child. Even after living so many years, it always came down to the fact that deep down you are a child, which is something her old personality would have despised. She listened to his words, feeling tears in her eyes as though this was so difficult, for them both right now and she did not want to have him suffer, not at her extent because he had already suffered so much from her actions. When he moved closer, she only wanted to continue to move closer, wrapped up in him as she just completely forgot about Leon, not even thinking about him now. She felt tears build at his words, knowing she needed to do this, to rebuild who she was so that she can get rid of this person and burry them back in her mind to be strong once again.

Camille then felt him kiss her, something she thought he would never do again, but she waited a moment before kissing him back, simply kissing him as she slipped an arm around his torso, the other one still intertwined with his, as her chest was flush against his. There had been nothing so perfect, like fire and ice mixed together in one touch as she moved so she lay on top of him, her free hand coming to rest over his heart, feeling the beat of his heart as she just kissed him deeper. It was like she seemed to get lost in the kiss and she just pulled back after a moment, remembering Leon, her fingers still resting on his chest gently as she leaned up, straddling his lap, gazing down at him like he was something foreign, not in a sense of disgust, but it was so odd that after so long they had finally found each other. It was as if she was silently choosing, but she just looked down at him. Her chest ached as she wished she had saved herself for him and only for him, but she knew it was far too late and she would never get another chance. She leaned down slowly after a moment and kissed him gently on the lips, looking into his eyes after a moment, her lips parting to say something, but she just closed them, like those three words would never be able to be spoken.

TAG: Jackson
WORDS: 707

[jackson]

He understood that she would be confused. Hurt. But hell, he was both of those things for the past few weeks. And if he could take a smaller degree of it and he was a mere thirty-nine years old, surely someone who had lived for hundreds of years would be able to recover from trauma much more quickly? It was only logical. Someone with such life experience would be able to beat something like this. Of course, he didn't expect her to believe that everything was just fine. But he hadn't expected her to be so weak. To break down like this. It just didn't make sense for someone her age. But he wouldn't question it. He merely assumed that she didn't learn anything in all her years. That she didn't take from life what she should. Hopefully, he could slowly integrate the idea that she needed to mature as opposed to staying the same. At this point, he was worried that she was too far gone. She would remain at this perpetual state of cluelessness. Camille's life was to be filled with disappointment. Mistakes. Bad decisions. And Jackson felt as if he had no way of helping her.

Besides, hadn't this happened before? William had made her life hell in the past. Why was it different now? Was she just now realizing that there was no avoiding him? That she could not just think the problem into nonexistence? That he needed to be killed? Her ignorance of the situation frightened him. That she had never considered he would return for her baffled Jackson to no end. He felt himself torn up inside, unable to provide Camille with the tools that she would need to survive. The ability to learn and grow. The ability to detach herself from emotions better suited for a garbage can. Jackson could not sympathize with Camille. He hadn't felt like a child, even when he was a child. He was made to be an adult from a very young age and it was quite apparent now. Perhaps the fact that she didn't recall such early years attributed to the fact that she acted so much younger than herself. She was a child at her rebirth by William, alone and afraid. How he hadn't seen that possibility before; it was strange. It seemed almost obvious. And maybe that was why she was so precious to him. His lack of childhood, his maturity, it thirsted for immaturity. For something carefree and fun-loving. And Camille had been his escape. She was a way to live what he never had.

The kiss was unexpected, even though it was initiated by him. He hadn't technically planned it. He had thought about it. Considered it. But he was so afraid to be in her place. In her shoes. But this wasn't a kiss that promised more to come. It wasn't something that held whisperings of the future. It was goodbye. A solid goodbye and nothing more. It was a farewell, a proper one, as far as Jackson was considered. It was justified. No. No it wasn't. It was sick. Adulterous. But he couldn't help himself: it wasn't his problem. Camille situated herself above him and he slipped his free hand to the small of her back, drawing her as near as the position would allow. She stopped. She understood the contact as goodbye as well. And he was glad. It hurt but she at least understood that whatever happened here, in this moment, would be goodbye. She kissed him again, looking as if she wished to say something. But she didn't and he smiled sadly, understanding fully what was going on in her head. Reaching up, he brushed her hair back from her face, hand resting against her cheek, "Do you regret this?"

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[camille]

There was much silence between them, each second one containing thought about where this was going and how they had gotten here. She had lost herself, almost as if it was buried so deeply that she could not climb her way out. Maybe this was a step for her to maturing because maybe she had to fall down, to pick herself up, but this time it would be permanent. She had hid all she had felt and ran from her problem with William. She had moved to Manuka to temporarily provide her a refuge until William finally caught up with her. It was an ignorant thing to do, even knowing the consequences of her actions. She had been like that all along, constantly making decisions that she knew and felt would end up in ruins. When she told Jackson that she loved him, she felt it would ruin them and she knew that anything more than friendship for them was ruin and now this is where they were, where they would be from now on. There were so many problems that she had avoided that were catching up with her now, that she would never be able to fix. The guilt and regrets would stick with her for eternity.

Their kiss was a goodbye for the both of them, although she knew she would end up seeing him sometimes, surely they would be friends, but never what they used to be. Whatever had grabbed a hold of her now, it would partially always stick with her and she might have her old personality, but in times of trouble this part of her would rear its head. She just felt her eyes resting on his, every ounce of pain possible there, nothing in her posture, just in her eyes. This was the consequence for everything that had happened, for her betrayal to him and for the fact that she changed. She just felt his touch gentle on her cheek as her hair was pushed back from her face as she just said softly, “No. This kiss should have been something that you should have been able to have, but I…I ruined it.” She said, her hands still resting on her chest, as though she wanted to hold him, but knowing she would have to push herself away at some point. She honestly did not want to leave, but at some point she would have to be on her way to leave him to live his life. “I’ll miss you,” she said, holding back tears, but remaining calm as she just gazed into his eyes.

Part of her wanted to continue there kiss, but knew she would never be able to as she just laid down, on top of him, her head coming to rest on his chest, tucking away in his neck snuggly. She listened to his heart, feeling like she could listen to it a thousand times, to the end of eternity. She just closed her eyes and wanted to stay like this for the rest of her life, held in his arms, just left with nothing but her thoughts. She did not deserve him, not even this moment or second with him, but she would take it like she always had, unable to say goodbye like a weak person. She would have time to toughen up though, to force herself to walk away from him, to leave all of her memories with him and to let go of his heart. The thought made her only ache more making her realize how truly painful this was. It was like a knife was being thrust into her, except right into her chest. Still, she held back the tears, not wanting to cry anymore, not wanting to be this weak in front of him. She just ran her fingers up down his arms to his hands, slipping hers into his, wanting to just spend this moment with him, hoping he would not push her away right now.

TAG: Jackson
WORDS: 665

[jackson]

There was silence. But it was nothing that Jackson worried about. the silence, to him at least, felt almost natural. It was as if things unsaid were communicated in another way. Their actions, their looks, they all conveyed what was being thought. A lot had happened between the two of them in the months prior. A lot had been said. A lot had been done. More importantly, a lot hadn't happened at all. Promises had fallen flat. Betrayal had been the common theme. And so now, when things were able to be said, they simply let the silence say everything. And Jackson liked it like this. They punctuated the quiet with their words. Their calm conversation. As if they were speaking of grocery shopping. But of course, this was so much more than something so trivial. It was monumental. It defined what their relationship would be. If they could be friends without having everything fall apart at the seems. He hadn't thought of it himself yet but perhaps she had been hopeful. Maybe Camille, black as she claimed her heart was, had something resembling faith.

Maybe she had believed that it was all over. That William wouldn't actually come after her. That he wouldn't bother with just one individual: that he had more important things to do. This wouldn't be too unreasonable. It would apply just fine to any normal person. To any sane person. Camille had no way of knowing exactly how twisted he actually was. For all she knew, he was like any other guy with a penchant for revenge: spooking ones enemies and then getting on with everything. But he had proven to be persistent. Deranged and not just driven by vengeance or sadomasochism. What Jackson did know was that it had stung a bit, being compared to the man. He considered himself ruthless to an extent. But Jackson was logic-driven. He did not let his emotions get in the way and he did not allow himself to entertain petty ideas of revenge. The comparison to William and his situation to himself and his problems with Camille was a low blow. But he had chalked it up to her being scared. Her being the victim. And now, here she was, still shaken but stronger already. Jumping over the first mental hurdle.

And they laid here like that, the healing process for both of them having just begun. It was peaceful. He was immensely relieved. And satisfied. Nodding in agreement as Camille defended their actions as appropriate, he couldn't have agreed more. Were he the other man in this situation, he would have allowed it. Would have written it off as a one time deal and then went about his life with the girl on his arm, victorious. Jackson wouldn't let anything like this happen between them again: he was, as always, an honorable man. Any more affection was not goodbye. It would be for sheerly adulterous reasons. And he would not drive the woman he loved to that. "Just give me a week or so, love," he told her finally, taking a hand and running it through her hair, "I won't leave you. I'll never leave you. I'll be there for everything. Every single significant event that I can attend, I will be there. Before I die, that is. And I hope that when I'm gone and you're at my funeral that you will tell everyone how dashing and wonderful I was. I will never stop being your friend, Camille Sanders."

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[camille]

There was a silent agreement as though it was a truce, but it really was not. It was a mark to a new beginning and that was how she was thinking about it as her eyes rested on the ceiling, her hair pooling out around her head. There was no doubt in her mind that she wanted this to work, but she knew she could not put him through anymore. In fact, she was slightly afraid of doing that to him again. The realization that perhaps they were never meant to be with each other as more than friends crossed her mind. Destruction built a wall between them through betrayal, but she knew this was not all bad. There was love that passed between them, but not the oh-so-good and fluffy type of love. This was love in the form of an action because they both knew what was better for the other, that letting each other go as lovers would bring them fewer hardships. Friendship was something that they knew very well between each other, despite knowing there would be more there. Years had passed as they worked as nothing but friends and they were brilliant with simply that type of relationship.

Perhaps William would not come because she had no doubt in her mind that she had brought him a great amount of grief. It was the relationship they would always have, but she wanted to sever ties forever between him, not allowing him to win her over or have his finger on the trigger to her life. She wanted to be stronger than that and she would be now, until death if that is what it came to. She listened to his words, a bit surprised he did not want to banish her from his life, but love was a fickle thing in this world. She gazed at him finally as he started to run his fingers through her hair, looking like she used to, her features a bit fuller from his blood earlier. His words made her eyes stick to his, like they were bound to him as she just turned so she was facing him, knowing she would promise to speak well of him. He asked her to tell everyone what a great man he was at his funeral. “Of course, I will. Thank you,” she said, still remaining quietly on his chest, feeling like it fit all too well.

There was a certain temptation burning within her to go further than they were now. The idea spiked and she just forced her eyes shut, keeping a hand interlaced with his at their sides. She would not go any further in such an act because she was better than that. She had Leon to think of, but Leon would have never even brought her this far this quickly. He nurtured her, but he did not discipline her in a sense which is what she truly needed. “I love you,” she said softly, not wanting to let this part of him go, but knowing she had to. They would be there for each other, until he died and even that, she would still think over him, unable to get him out of her head, out of her heart. It would not matter how much she loved Leon because this was her first lover that should have been, but would never be.

TAG: Jackson
WORDS: 565

[jackson]

Why fix something that wasn't broken, after all? There was no reason to pursue more than friendship at this point in time. They had tried. Given in a shot. And it had fallen into pieces around them. Their friendship had never once failed or faltered. They'd bickered hundreds of times but any friendship went through arguments. They fought like siblings and then got along like the best of friends. It was something that he wouldn't throw away if he could help it. So they would get through this. They would get past everything and overcome. It would be like one of their usual disagreements but, well, different. And by different, meaning huge. Momentous. It was more than just a speed bump. It was a brick wall. Three brick walls. But they were going to make it because they simply had been unstoppable as a friendship. There was no limiting the relationship they had had before. It could survive this. Jackson only hoped that it could survive it, anyway.

It was calm. Quiet. Everything had settled down and they had finally patched up everything as best as they could for the time being. Things were going to be all right just as long as they held on to this. Just as long as they kept at this calm and easy demeanor. Jackson was suddenly relieved at a new idea that had just formed in his mind: if he and Camille could jump over this hurdle, then their friendship was safe for the remainder of his life. They would be just fine, the two of them. He couldn't imagine something like this ever happening again, mainly because the romance between them was slowly dying like a smothered candle. So there would be nothing keeping them from absolute happiness at each other's sides. Someday, Jackson would sit, old and tired in a chair and Camille would poke fun at him, pointing out his crow's feet and laughing at his salt and pepper hair. Yes. That would be something that he could deal just fine with.

She thanked him and Jackson nodded as if waving the appreciation away. There was no need to thank him: this was how it was meant to be. Them near to each other. Together, friends or otherwise. To completely denounce what they had together would be detrimental to even his mental well-being. Lying there, holding her hand, he could not help but play out all of the events in his mind that led up to this point. Jackson sighed. He felt old. These past weeks felt like months. Perhaps a year. He was mentally exhausted from all of it. And suddenly, he heard Camille's voice again and turned his face toward her. Smiling, the saddest smile that he had given yet, he lifted her hand to his face, planting a kiss on her knuckles, "And I love you, Camille. You have a piece of my heart. Of my blood. Essentially my soul. I will always love you."

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[camille]

Camille hated the idea of losing Jackson, like a part of herself belonged to him forever as though they were soul mates, but life itself had killed the lifeline for their relationship. No, she had so this was the end and the beginning. This was something she must learn from, but part of her wanted to bury it away to come back in the end. No…she could not and would not allow herself to fall for the mistake again. She must remember this, every detail, every part of him that would allow her to thrive and make better decisions. If things had worked themselves out, there would have been no question that she might ask if they could find a way to make him live forever. She knew now that this was the consequence, that he might find someone else and that he would die, and she would have to live with his memory, something she knew she would not be able to handle. She would be strong in appearance, but breaking in every inch of the internal person she was.

He grasped her hand, bringing it up to his lips and she just smiled, looking up at him softly. His words were life flowing within her, just ever to be kept being repeated. They were to be the words that she spoke at his grave in time and she just wanted to kiss him once more, to make love once with him. The action would be pointless because it would leave her and himself even more broken than they had been. She did not reply with any words, just simply remained. Words like that were something to be held onto and to be considered and replayed. This time it was present that the love they held had been something far bigger than she thought, something that weakened her to the core. He did weaken her, making her realize things that she could never discover because of how proud she was. After a moment, she laid her head down on his chest, closing her eyes and just listening to his rhythmic beating. That was the moment she fell into sleep, just completely still on his chest, one of her hands flat against his chest and the other still intertwined with his.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Camille woke up woke up the next morning, an arm slipped around her torso as she was pulled still to his chest. She just was slightly laying next to him as she dare not move. Remembering the events of yesterday were dream like to her as though it was something she was just gazing back on. She noticed how normal this felt waking up to him, just gazing up at him as though she had expected this.

TAG: Jackson
WORDS: 458
NOTES: So I jumped ahead to the next morning…hope that’s alright!

[jackson]

There was, of course, the knowledge that Camille wasn't through with everything. She wasn't out of the clear yet. She was still incredibly vulnerable. And he knew that that would be the case. He knew from the way that she had reacted to everything that she wasn't going to be completely better after one night. One conversation was not going to fix her. But there was a chance that he had jump started a healing process with his words. Which would be just the kind of thing that she needed. Someone to give her a slight push in the right direction. And the Leon could help bring her along. The kid would be tons more nurturing to her than Jackson ever could be. He was not the nurturing type, unfortunately. There wasn't anything motherly or paternal in him. He just wasn't too incredibly in tune to his own feelings, let alone the feelings of others. He should have been grateful that he would probably never be a father. He wouldn't be a terrible one, of course. But he didn't want to know what a child raised by him would turn out like. Some sort of emotionless robot, no doubt.

She was at peace, for now, in this moment. She was just fine as she was. And he was as well. Complete forgiveness. He forgave her entirely. He needed to. In that small amount of time, he let go of his reservation against her and just let them go back to as they were. Hell, to something stronger than they were, really. Camille leaned further into him and Jackson moved his chin to the top of her head, cradling the vampire in his arms, loving her as he was meant to. Loving her in a way that was not conventional. But it was a way that worked for them. A way that they needed. And like this, they had both fallen victim to sleep, likely worn out, drained emotionally from everything that they had been through. When Jackson woke, he was almost confused. And then the previous events flooded into his mind and he glanced down at Camille. Grinning like a kid at a Christmas, he hugged her body tightly and kissed her forehead, "Morning. It is morning, isn't it?" He glanced about the room and nodded, "Yes. Well. I'm starving, myself. If you're also feeling a bit... malnourished, there is always a little more where the last bit came from," he told Camille, pointing to his neck, only half joking with a smile.

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[camille]

Camille had been dreaming about everything, about William and then about Jackson basically coming in to save her from the mess she was now. The dream had gone further into what she had desired them to be though, something that would have made her blush if her heart still pumped blood through her. She remained silent, still listening to his heart beat which almost lulled her back into sleep, but then he spoke and she nearly jumped. She just looked up at him and then he spoke what he did and she just stared at him knowing he was serious but added a joking tone to make it less harsh sounding. She just growled and got up out of bed throwing the covers at him and just stormed out of the room. She knew she did not have to say anything because he would instantly realize his mistake. She did not want him to act like that, to act like he is her personal juice box. A few weeks ago he would not have even considered spoiling her like that and she knew it was something sacred. She understood that they loved each other, but it would have been rude and selfish to accept that just a moment ago.

She just sighed, standing in his kitchen feeling a bit better than yesterday night as she just came to sit on top of his counter. She just rubbed her eyes slowly and ran her fingers slowly through her long hair which hung over her shoulders. Camille felt slightly guilty now for storming out but she knew she had a right to. She just waited until he came down and she slowly looked up at him. She wanted to have his blood and now she just stood up, approaching him quickly and roughly pushing him into the blood, forcing his head to the side with her long, pale fingers. “You want this, Jackson? You want it to be like this?” She asked him, releasing his forced position and looking at him. Her eyes were harsh as she just stared at him and she just shook her head. The burn for something to drink was itching at her as she just looked at him, fairly close to him right now as she just stared into his eyes, suddenly looking much less harsh. She leaned in and kissed him deeply, but there was emotion contained within it that could never be replaced. The urge to have more of him came into her, but that was when she slowly pulled back. “I don’t want to abuse you like that,” she said, knowing how awkwardly worded that was, but she just wanted him to realize that this was something meaningful for her as well.

TAG: Jackson
WORDS: 458

[jackson]

Jackson's own dreams had been less than memorable, considering he didn't recall even a slight detail upon waking. It was always frustrating, not being able to remember ones own dreams. Dreams seemed to be such an important part of a subconscious, after all. There were professionals that swore that one could understand one's deepest feelings and emotions through the use of dream interpretation. Some of it Jackson was sure was an absolute crock. But most of it seemed to make sense. However, in order to analyze one's dreams, you had to first remember the dreams. And if he couldn't keep in mind a few pictures of his subconscious, well then, he was out of luck. Maybe it was his age. Slowly, his mind would begin to deteriorate. What was he kidding though? He was only thirty-nine. That certainly wasn't too old, not by a long shot. His mind would remain his own until he was stricken with old age and arthritis. Liver spots and deep crow's feet. The thought of age was not something that pleased him too terribly.

Upon saying what he had when they had woken, Camille had thrown a fit and Jackson was hit full in the face by blankets. He tried his best not to laugh and succeeded, stifling the urge by laying back down onto the bed and staring at the ceiling. He couldn't hide his grin though. This was one thing that she didn't always enjoy, his sense of humor. A good deal of people didn't understand his brand of comedy, actually. When she didn't return, he groaned, pushing himself out of bed and moving downstairs. It only took a moment to find her in the kitchen. He met her eyes and then was pressed up against something solid, his neck forcefully exposed. Despite the quickening of his pulse, he didn't react, merely letting Camille's childishness take hold of her. Jackson kept collected, waiting for her grip to loosen as she asked him if this was what he wanted. She released her hold and stared at him for a moment. And then there was an unexpected kiss, something he returned but did not press further. She was letting out a little steam and he allowed it. Pulling away, Camille explained not wanting to abuse him and Jackson nodded, moving forward and wrapping his arms around her torso, drawing her in for an embrace. "You're overreacting. You assume that I don't understand the significance. I do. And in normal circumstances when we are spending time together in the future, this will likely never happen. But understand that you've been starved for days. One tiny sip of blood isn't going to cut it. I'm just taking care of you. So please stop taking my feelings into consideration: it's your well-being I'm worried about. As a result, losing blood in this situation doesn't bother me entirely too much." He smiled a hand moving up to his neck, fingers brushing across the previous wound.

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[camille]

Camille felt his pulse quicken for a moment, but he did not do anything and she knew on any other occasion he would have burned her instantly. Jackson was not one to be lenient towards those who attacked him, even in the smallest sense. Camille could drink from him right now, but she would not no matter how much the scent of his blood allured her. She was an aged vampire, one who could control her thirst more than others and she would not let it control her. There was a breaking point, but usually it was a while before she reached that point. He was returning the kiss and she knew this ought not to be continued, but part of her knew that while she stayed here, it was the last moments of everything. His actions would survive and imprint in her memory, never to be removed as she just gazed into his eyes as he pulled her close to him. She just slid her hands around his neck loosely, listening to his words as she thought about them for a moment. Perhaps she had overacted and she just wished she would not take his jokes so seriously sometimes, but she just was worried about hurting him. His words made sense, but she was concerned about abusing them and then he said those last words.

She just watched him run his fingers over his neck before she slid one of her hands into his and she just looked up to him, leaning up and kissing him gently. She just leaned down, her hair shadowing her eyes for a moment before she just kissed over his neck. Part of her had forgotten what it was like to be bitten by a vampire and she knew it was not a pleasurable experience, especially by a vampire who was rough. Usually she did not care, but this was the man she loved for so long. Her fangs finally pricked his delicate skin, digging into his neck gently as she just let the blood fill her mouth as she still stayed wrapped up in him. She had the fight for his blood and the fight for remaining controlled over everything. She continued to drink his blood, closing her eyes, almost losing track before fear filled her that she had gone too far and she just pulled back, almost sounding like she was sucking her breath in. Her hands still remained in his as she just contained herself again, just looking down at the renewed fang marks. Her eyes found his before leaning in and running her tongue of the droplets of blood that were cascading down towards his chest. She just kissed his fang marks gently. “Thank you,” she said, looking up at him, her fingers tightening around his. “What are we going to do today?” She asked him curious if he had anything planned, but she would understand if they were just to stay here and talk or something.

TAG: Jackson
WORDS: 496

[JURATE]

THIS THREAD HAS BEEN INACTIVE FOR OVER TWO MONTHS. IT IS BEING MOVED TO ARCHIVES, BUT IF YOU WANT IT MOVED BACK DON'T HESITATE TO PM A MEMBER OF STAFF.

~JURATE