Letters From Jack
Dinner
He looked over at her, and just starred for a few minutes. He had tried his best to stay away from her. He had attempted to convince himself that she was better off without him. That he didn't need her, and she sure as hell didn't need him. But every night when he laid down, visions of her haunted him. He couldn't focus on terrorizing the city in fear of hitting the very spot where she might be.
"I don't know why I'm here. . ." He muttered, "I just. . ." He didn't want to say what he was thinking. . . What he was feeling, but he didn't see another way, "I just couldn't stay away any more."
She looked over at him and smiled. She had been feeling so alone and vacant this past week, and now he was here and she suddenly felt very complete. "I'm glad you're here. I hope you're staying for dinner." She said, hoping off the stool and heading towards the cabinets.
"I really shouldn't. I need to be going."
"Nonsense. What do you have to do?"
"I have. . . business to take care of."
"Liar."
He chuckled darkly, "If you were anyone else. . . you'd be dead by now." He mumbled.
For some reason though, even when he mumbled she could read his voice clearly, "Guess I'm just lucky to be me then, huh? Do you like steak?" She asked.
He didn't say a word as he watched her place two large steaks into the pan. She hummed a sweet tune as she grabbed some potatoes and washed them in the sink. He couldn't believe she was going to cook for him. That was one thing she had never done before. She had attempted to once when they were together, but she couldn't even figure out how to turn the stove on back then. He laughed at the memory.
She turned around and starred at him, "What's so funny?"
"Just memories." He said.
"Share them with me."
He smirked, "You tried to cook for me once. . . and you didn't even know how to turn the stove on."
She laughed, "Now that's something I believe. I just learned how to cook a couple of years ago."
He licked over his lips and wondered who she had learned from. Had her mother took the time out of her schedule to teach her? Had she watched the cooking channel? Took classes? A friend? A boyfriend?
"Who taught you?" He asked.
"Myself. I just got sick of using the microwave, so I bought a couple of books and taught myself some things. Everything was really bad in the beginning, but it got better eventually." She said with a soft smile.
He smiled, "So, what do you do now? You know. . . for a living." He asked, glancing around. The apartment was very nice. He knew she had to have a pretty decent job, or simply living off her father's funds.
"I'm a model." She said, as she placed the steaks onto the skillet, and on the stove.
He raised an eyebrow, "A model?" He questioned. He wasn't shocked though. She was insanely beautiful. Her blue eyes, and those precious dimples were enough to make any man go wild with fantasy.
"Yeah. . .I've been doing it since I was eighteen. I'm now signed with Ford Modeling Agency."
"That's pretty big time, right?"
She shrugged her shoulder's, "I've been told that I could hit it big time, But I don't think I will."
He licked over his lips and felt guilty for coming here. She had a good life now. She was a model, about to hit it big time.
"I need to go." He said, standing up quickly.
She darted to the door before he could even move, and blocked him from leaving. "You are not leaving, Jack!" She scolded, "I am fixing us dinner, and you still stay to enjoy it."
He starred down at her small frame, "You know I could just pick you up and move you out of the way if I wanted, right?"
She smiled, "Did you use to do that, Jack?" She asked, in a flirty tone.
He couldn't help but to smile at her. Picking her up is one of the many things he used to love doing. He would always toss her over his shoulder, and just walk around with her.
"Will you please stay?"
He groaned, not liking how this woman could make him do anything she wanted. He walked back over and took a seat on the stool. She giggled, and then skipped over to the stove and flipped her steaks.
Soon dinner was being served, and they ate in silence. Jack was actually glad he stayed. He hadn't had a real home cooked meal in a long time.
"I guess I'll be going now." He said, as he placed his plate into the sink.
"No dessert? She asked.
He shook his head, "No thanks."
She laughed, "So you're just going to eat and leave. . ."
He spun around quickly and looked at her, "What do you want, Zoey?" He muttered, "What do you want from me?"
"I want you to stay."
"I don't know why I'm here. . ." He muttered, "I just. . ." He didn't want to say what he was thinking. . . What he was feeling, but he didn't see another way, "I just couldn't stay away any more."
She looked over at him and smiled. She had been feeling so alone and vacant this past week, and now he was here and she suddenly felt very complete. "I'm glad you're here. I hope you're staying for dinner." She said, hoping off the stool and heading towards the cabinets.
"I really shouldn't. I need to be going."
"Nonsense. What do you have to do?"
"I have. . . business to take care of."
"Liar."
He chuckled darkly, "If you were anyone else. . . you'd be dead by now." He mumbled.
For some reason though, even when he mumbled she could read his voice clearly, "Guess I'm just lucky to be me then, huh? Do you like steak?" She asked.
He didn't say a word as he watched her place two large steaks into the pan. She hummed a sweet tune as she grabbed some potatoes and washed them in the sink. He couldn't believe she was going to cook for him. That was one thing she had never done before. She had attempted to once when they were together, but she couldn't even figure out how to turn the stove on back then. He laughed at the memory.
She turned around and starred at him, "What's so funny?"
"Just memories." He said.
"Share them with me."
He smirked, "You tried to cook for me once. . . and you didn't even know how to turn the stove on."
She laughed, "Now that's something I believe. I just learned how to cook a couple of years ago."
He licked over his lips and wondered who she had learned from. Had her mother took the time out of her schedule to teach her? Had she watched the cooking channel? Took classes? A friend? A boyfriend?
"Who taught you?" He asked.
"Myself. I just got sick of using the microwave, so I bought a couple of books and taught myself some things. Everything was really bad in the beginning, but it got better eventually." She said with a soft smile.
He smiled, "So, what do you do now? You know. . . for a living." He asked, glancing around. The apartment was very nice. He knew she had to have a pretty decent job, or simply living off her father's funds.
"I'm a model." She said, as she placed the steaks onto the skillet, and on the stove.
He raised an eyebrow, "A model?" He questioned. He wasn't shocked though. She was insanely beautiful. Her blue eyes, and those precious dimples were enough to make any man go wild with fantasy.
"Yeah. . .I've been doing it since I was eighteen. I'm now signed with Ford Modeling Agency."
"That's pretty big time, right?"
She shrugged her shoulder's, "I've been told that I could hit it big time, But I don't think I will."
He licked over his lips and felt guilty for coming here. She had a good life now. She was a model, about to hit it big time.
"I need to go." He said, standing up quickly.
She darted to the door before he could even move, and blocked him from leaving. "You are not leaving, Jack!" She scolded, "I am fixing us dinner, and you still stay to enjoy it."
He starred down at her small frame, "You know I could just pick you up and move you out of the way if I wanted, right?"
She smiled, "Did you use to do that, Jack?" She asked, in a flirty tone.
He couldn't help but to smile at her. Picking her up is one of the many things he used to love doing. He would always toss her over his shoulder, and just walk around with her.
"Will you please stay?"
He groaned, not liking how this woman could make him do anything she wanted. He walked back over and took a seat on the stool. She giggled, and then skipped over to the stove and flipped her steaks.
Soon dinner was being served, and they ate in silence. Jack was actually glad he stayed. He hadn't had a real home cooked meal in a long time.
"I guess I'll be going now." He said, as he placed his plate into the sink.
"No dessert? She asked.
He shook his head, "No thanks."
She laughed, "So you're just going to eat and leave. . ."
He spun around quickly and looked at her, "What do you want, Zoey?" He muttered, "What do you want from me?"
"I want you to stay."
♠ ♠ ♠
