By the Light Of the Night [Jack]

[Jack Trove]

It was late.
Jack didn’t know how late, exactly… just that it was late, and that he should be in bed by now. The corridor was painted dark blue and black; but his hand was forward, a little leaping flame dancing in his palm. It lit his way down the empty hall that wound up to the Common Room door.
Was it morning, yet?
He hoped not. Morning meant Monday. Monday meant hell. The weekend had been so full and tiring he hadn’t a chance to enjoy it. This was his first free hour all Sunday. He was savouring it.
Hell, he deserved to savour it.
Warily, he pushed the creaking Common Room door open, ignoring its old, oaken moan as it swung to let him enter. The Common Room’s soft, strange blue light was suddenly a lit by the dancing flame in his palm; the shifting orange lights flickering across the walls. Sighing, Jack spotted the dying fire, and shot the flame towards it. At once, a crackling flame arose and a wave of warmth instantaneously washed through the softly glowing Common Room.
That’s when he saw her.
“Sophie,” he smiled, heading straight for her.

[Jack Trove]

Sophie's golden hair fanning on like silver reflections of the flames now dancing in the fireplace. Sometimes, depending on the light, his mood or her smile, Jack could see the sun in Sophie- other times, he could see the moon. Whatever the case, Sophie belonged in the sky; shining down at them all.
Smiling.
And dancing.
Sophie was a dancer.
He approached her, the flitting shadows around the room failing to catch his eye, which was locked on her soft lips. The Common Room was so soft... quiet...
"Jack..."
A smile lit his features. "Hey." Then a small crease of worry tugged it downwards.
Despite her gold-rimmed edges, Sophie's pale skin was a shade paler- almost tinged blue. Upon a step closer, Jack suddenly noticed the sharp contours of the goosebumps that ran the length of her thin arms.
"You're cold."
What an impressive statement.

[Jack Trove]

Ever get those noises that just... send a shiver down your spine?
Like nails down a blackboard?
Like metal clashing against metal?
Like the sound of like swishing and squishing against packaging?
The chattering of teeth had never gotten to Jack before.
It got to him, now.
Instinctively, he moved forward and before she had time to protest, Jack had pressed his body against her back, and curled his arms around her body. Concentrating, he forced the heat of the fire that always lay in his belly to rise; sinking through the metal surface of the blades that lined his skin, and pushing the warmth out- out and pouring it into her.
"You're like an icicle," he told her, a little incredulously. "How long were you sitting in the cold for?"

[Jack Trove]

Jack wasn't sure if she'd moved closer, or if he'd just tightened his grip around her.
Perhaps it was a bit of both.
It felt strange, holding Sophie like this... all of a sudden... she just seemed so... little. Fragile. Breakable.
Sophie was the kind of girl who knew how to lit out a room. Everything about her oozed style, confidence and charisma. She was tall, graceful and... well... beautiful. To call her 'fragile' or 'breakable' would be like an insult.
But he could feel her ribcage jutting out against the flesh of his stomach.
Jack had always known Sophie was thin.
Why hadn't he ever realised she was this thin?
"Sophie, no wonder you're cold," he exhaled slightly, "there's no fat on you at all."

[Sophie Mathieu]

"Sophie, no wonder you're cold," he exhaled, his breath warm and comforting and welcome over her bare, pale skin, "there's no fat on you at all."
"Oh don't be daft," she retorted sharply, more sharp than she'd intended. Weight was a...sensitive issue for Sophie.
She looked just fine the way she was, better than just fine in fact and she intended to keep it that way, thank you very much.
"Besides," she said in a softer tone, pushing up lightly on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. "I have you to keep me warm,"

[Jack Trove]

Maybe, if Jack was a) a Carer, and b) actually good at it, he would've started a baking cake campaign for Sophie- a put on 10 pounds in two weeks special.
However, all thoughts of cake went shooting out of his head as soon as the much sweeter lips of Sophie grazed his cheek. Jack weakened immediately, and kissed her forehead.
"So you do," he grinned. "Next time, call me, before you get this cold."

[Jack Trove]

"Batman?" Jack's eyebrows shot up. "Isn't that Hoodham's job?"
Professor Hoodham was young enough, but whenever he donned the unfortunate Headmaster's cape he had to wear on formal occasions, he aged about 60 odd years. And looked like Batman. And it wasn't good. Hoodham himself never looked quite comfortable in the cloak. He evidently thought it was as ridiculous as his students... but Prof. Thandie liked her traditions.
The idea of himself as Batman inspired a rare musical outburst from Jack...
"I can be your Batman, baby!"

[Jack Trove]

Proximity was Sophie's most dangerous form of temptation. Nothing killed a guy more than having to stand, so close, yet so d@mn far away. Inches could stretch to miles. The close brush of skin as she moved past could break a heart into a million pieces as it watched her move on without a backwards glance.
Luckily, Jack wasn't one of those unfortunate guys.
Jack was a very fortunate guy indeed.
His head turned; their lips met; and Jack's heart swelled with a strange, bittersweet longing and satisfaction from within.

[Jack Trove]

Jack stopped thinking. It was pointless. His instincts had taken over.
His loss of concsious sense had something to do with being closer to her.
More than that, it was… needing to be closer. Needing to feel her tongue flicker over his. Needing to feel her heartbeat flutter. Needing to feel each recalcitrant caress; her recalcitrant caress- her kisses, each one sweeter and stronger and so much better as they continued.
But it wasn’t the kisses that sent that electric shock shooting up his spine.
It was the way she moved beneath him, twisting her body upwards and arching her hips-
Shít.
Jack leaped away from Sophie as if he’d been scalded- and from the colour his cheeks were turning, he may as well have been. There was no way she wouldn’t have felt it- they were far too close; the pressure of her hips against his was too great-
Oh, God.
Oh, God.

[Jack Trove]

… That was the best reaction he’d had to this happening ever.
Most of these girls- well, they talked big, but they didn’t have the… ah… hands-on experience to enable them to deal with it. Most got embarrassed. Others pretended not to notice, but they got awkward fast. Some made stupid jokes. Some just backed right off.
But Sophie just kissed him harder.
With this, generally, if you ignored it, it went away. But the feeling of her being there, pressed up against him like that; with her sweet, soft perfume clinging to every curve…
It was starting to hurt. Her being there- and him-
The pulse of his body and hers was completely in time. It hurt more than ever before, but it felt better than ever before. He couldn’t stop kissing her now that she was against him again. He couldn’t stop running his hands across her soft, smooth skin.
Just when it felt like his own skin was about to split, Jack was forced to act on it. It took every ounce of self-control he had left to move her hands from his torso and downwards. He moved his lips from hers, and a question formed in his eyes as they bore into hers.
He was completely under her spell.
Sophie knew that.
But she must also know that the pain needed to be eased, somehow.
He couldn’t cope with the pain of wanting her so much, and not being able to do anything to ease that pain. He just couldn’t.
He’d never wanted anyone so much.

[Jack Trove]

A moan escaped from his throat before he could stop it.
Carefully, Jack’s hand slid forwards, hooking under the elastic of her pyjama shorts. His fingers were shaking against the curve of her hip. His whole body was shaking, but his insides were on fire. He couldn’t even speak. Every inch of him was crawling closer to Sophie. Jack’s head moved down, and his forehead pressed up against hers. Their noses just touched, ever so lightly, before his lips sank into hers; a strong, deep kiss.
“Okay,” his voice shook slightly, “okay. Where? I don’t want to- I… this is okay?”
The last thing Jack wanted was to give her the wrong impression.
He didn’t want her to think he was some horny idiot; your average teenage bloke; someone who was only in it for the sexual side of things. He couldn’t have her think that.
Because that wasn’t it.
Love fuelled his every kiss. This meant something to Jack.
He hoped it meant something to Sophie.
Jack loved Sophie.
That was the thing.
He loved her.
He wanted her.
He needed her.
His hand unfurled, his palm spreading across her hip. Her pyjamas sat so prettily on her little figure. That was something he’d noticed- Sophie looked stunning when she was all made up and going out- but she never looked prettier than when she was relaxing just like this.

[Jack Trove]

The feeling of her lips pressing into his collarbone... all of his nerves- every little electrical impulse travelling across his body- froze, for just one, pure moment of bliss. Jack caught his breath, and caught her too, moving her chin upwards and pressing his forehead against hers.
Wow.
Then every single nerve exploded.
His hands crisscrossed down her back; her hips moved against his; his breath was caught; his heart was screaming in ecstasy-
He returned her kiss to her collarbone feverishly; clumsily wondering if it could have the same effect on her as it did on him.
"Lead the way."
He would willingly follow her to the ends of the earth, even just to catch a fragment of this feeling of... amazement... just once more.