paixaorpg | Of All the Wormholes in All the World...[Completed]

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Of All the Wormholes in All the World...[Completed]

Character(s): Megara, Jecht
Content: Megara stumbled into one of Zim's wormholes and ends up in the place she's wanted to be all along.
Setting: Starting at the Cheap Prayer, ending up at Vocea Condominiums.
Time: Week 32, mid-day
Warnings: None

It was the waiting that really got to her. Meg knew Hades was floating somewhere around in the shadows, watching and plotting. He was hardly omnipresent, but he was still a god and the gods had ways of knowing things. Despite all her best intentions, she'd revealed the occasional glimmer of weakness towards Jecht. She was sure Hades had noticed. And if he hadn't, if he'd been preoccupied, that just gave her a reason to stick to her guns. She hadn't been found out yet.

She sat on her little narrow bed in the room she'd rented, watching the light of the city's false sun slant in from the window. Everyone was so stupid in this city, charging out to meet their deaths for half-remembered principles or ideals. Forming attachments in this place was like trying to hold on to a flame. Sooner or later, you'd end up with nothing in your hands but burns.

Standing up from the bed, Megara sighed. She needed something to occupy her time, something to distract her as she waited for Hades to contact her. Brooding alone in her room wouldn't do anything but make her feel worse. So she stomped over to her door and flung it open with exasperation --

--and fell into a tunnel of light. She was too surprised to do anything but let momentum carry her through it, screaming all the way. Squeezing her eyes shut, she connected with something warm and solid. "Oof!"

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Jecht was sprawled out on his back, arms and legs out as he snored peacefully in bed. The impact hadn't been enough to wake him up, entirely. He stirred, and the tail end of an inhale sounded loudly, as he moved to turn sharply onto his side. The new weight that had come along with him, was now sandwiched between his arms as he settled into his new position.

A low, "mmm," rumbled in his throat as he fell back into a deeper sleep.

Still seeing stars, Meg didn't quite register what was going on until the mass beneath her shifted and she found herself encircled by a pair of muscular arms, vision obscured by a scarred chest that was only too familiar. Breathless for reasons entirely separate from her impromptu landing, she shifted in his arms to stare wide-eyed at his sleeping face. Good, he hadn't yet realized she was here. If she could just squirm out of his embrace, she could escape with her pride intact and...

...she paused, unable to look away from his face. Faint lines of age had already started carving into the chiseled stone, mostly around his eyes and mouth, but it only served to make him all the more irresistible. His was a face with character, not just some pretty boy sculptors in Greece would moon over. She lifted her hand to lightly touch the rough stubble of his jaw, her expression softening.

Even that slight touch seemed to set off a series of actions, as the beginnings of a grin stared to form. Mmm. Yeah. He'd had this dream, before. His topside arm started to inch its way down, as he leaned inwards, tightening the embrace. It wasn't just the feel of her, either. Her scent was so intoxifying -- it almost made him feel guilty over his vow of soberity.

And damn.

Did it ever feel more real then ever this time. He was almost sure he could feel the warmth of a body next to his, radiating the perfume fit for a goddess.

His hand stopped at her hip, making its way back up the legnth of an arm -- yeah. Soft. I bet it feels just like this... -- and pausing at the angle of a chinm lifting gently, moving himself downward so that lips could meet --

"Jecht!" Meg cried out, breaking the spell by shoving her hands against his jaw and pushing. Flushed, she tried to squirm away. It had been nice to be held, to see his unguarded face so close to hers but now they were crossing into dangerous territory. She smacked his arm for good measure, feeling her heart thunder in her chest pressed so close against his.

"Huh?" His eyes slowly blinked open, "What the -- MEG?!" He jolted upright. She was really here?? How did that even begin to make sense? He needed a few minutes for this to even register, as he rubbed his head and eyes. "Wha- what's going on? How did you get in? I locked the door -- "

She scowled up at him, breathing hard. "If you'd let go of me, I'd explain!" She was finally able to squirm away, backing up on the bed and tucking her legs close. She made a show of patting her heavy hair into place, avoiding meeting his eyes. If she looked too long, he'd know how much she'd enjoyed that little moment.

"I was just opening the door at the room I rented and I fell into this tunnel of light," she began flatly, knowing as the words left her how far-fetched it sounded. "The next thing I know, I land on top of you! I don't know how it happened!"

He seemed a little dazed still, shifting over in the bed to give her some more room, muttering a very half-hearted sorry. Thank goodness he'd chosen last night as one to pass out in his shorts, he thought. As he listened to her explanation, he scratched his head, leaning an elbow on a knee.

When she was done, he just sat there, watching her with a lazy gaze, a goofy sort of look coming over him after a few moments. "You know... you don't have to make up some ridiculous story when you want to stop by..."

Edited 2011-06-06 19:35 (UTC)

She grabbed his pillow and smacked it onto his head a few times. "Don't flatter yourself!" she snarled, turning even redder. "I didn't even know where you moved, remember?" Meg stopped her attack, resting back on her feet, hugging the pillow close. The pillow that smelled like him. When she spoke next, her words were quiet.

"...I didn't want to see you."

Jecht made a few failed attempts to grab at the weapon she'd armed herself with -- but it was still early in his day, so clearly his reflexes weren't up to snuff just yet. He chuckled, ignoring her arguments and chalking this instance up to someone up there liking him today. Since the last time he'd run into her, he hadn't successfully thought up a new plan to cross paths with her... and so, this little gift from above (quite literally) wouldn't go unthanked.

He stretched his arms out, yawning loudly, then scratching a flank as he finally moved to the edge of the bed to get up. "Well, you're here now. So you might as well stay for breakfast," and he turned, looking out the window, "uh... brunch?" Any excuse to get her to stay.

Meg watched him stretch with barely-restrained attraction, squeezing his pillow tighter. When he spoke, she blinked out of the haze, gaping at him like he just asked her to remove her head and dance around a little. "Breakfast...?" Was he for real? The ego on this guy was seriously off the charts. But...the idea was tempting.

She turned and slid off the other side of the bed, the motion briefly baring her legs as the fabric of her dress slid up her thighs. She stood, shaking her her ponytail out to stall as she tried to come up with some excuse to leave. Unfortunately her brain wasn't complying.

"...more like lunch," she finally sighed, turning to face him with her hip swinging outward. "Try not to burn the place down, will you?"

The brief hike in her skirt didn't go unnoticed as he watched from the corner of his eye (pereferal vision; yet another divine gift), and made his way out of the room and down the hallway.

The walls were bare, white -- seemed like he'd put at least some effort into cleaning the place before moving in. "Hey, I'm not that useless in a kitchen, y'know." True, most of his whims had been catered to back in Zanarkand while he lived the life, and not to mention the missus at home. But the pilgrimage across Spira and his days spent alone in Paixao now... he'd learnt a little something, at least.

Of course, he didn't appear the least bit anxious about it, adhering to his usual confident air all the while.

He turned a corner a the end, which led into a large, open concept kitchen-living room hybrid, the large counter coming out to form a bar-like seated area, with three chairs lined up as though they hadn't been used yet.

Jecht immediately went for the fridge, "Thirsty?"

She followed him, warily but curious. "There's a shock," she murmured, glancing around the kitchen/living room. Frankly, she'd expected it to be filthy and disorganized. But then, how well did she really know him? She'd been so focused on hiding herself from him that she only just realized now how much he could be hiding from her.

Megara went to the counter, leaning her crossed arms on it as she watched him. "...yeah, sure. Whatever you have."

"Have a seat," he waved with his free arm, a jug in the other, as he reached for a glass from the cupboard. There was a silly grin on his face as he poured the orange liquid into it until it was full, then took a swig from the bottle for himself. "Like I said, the place ain't much to look at. Kinda... bare," he shrugged, returning the juice to the fridge, "but it'll do for now."

Jecht rummaged about for awhile, picking things out to place on the counter -- eggs, bread, what looked like sausages... some hashbrowns and of course, the almighty bacon. He busied himself locating the appropriate cooking utensils from the cupboards below, seeming to be on a mission, as he produced frying pans from its depths.

"How do you like your eggs? Wait, lemme guess. Sunny side up?" he shot her a wink, hoping she'd enjoy the sarcastic humour, rather than take offense.

She smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Hard," she said replied flatly, placing her chin in her hand as she watched him. "But however you make it is fine. I'll be impressed if you don't burn it."

Meg turned her head to look around. If he found such an accommodating place, why hadn't he done that before? Why cram into the Seventh Heaven? Was it really just to be around her? Try as she might, she couldn't understand what his game was. After a moment's pause, she glanced his away again.

"So...it's really just you here?"

Jecht smirked in return, refraining from making a joke with the spectacular set up she had just given him. He was on his best behaviour today, after all. He turned the stove on, twisting around to grab the appropriate edibles, and looking only slightly awkward while going about it. "That's right," he confirmed, ripping open packages -- who needed knives or other silly tools like that?

"Little bigger'n my last place, but -- " he shrugged, thinking of his old house boat, the sizzle he tended to getting louder " -- seemed like it was just goin' to waste anyway. Lots'uv empty places around here..."

Another silence descended as Meg looked down, thinking on his words. "...I don't like it," she finally said quietly, hugging herself. "Moving into these houses. I always feel like an intruder." She lifted her gaze to look around at the bare walls, looking through them and far away. "At some point, someone must've lived here, made memories...been happy. It feels weird to disturb it. I don't deserve to take that happiness."

She finally realized she was sharing more than she intended and darted a nervous glance Jecht's way to gauge his reaction.

"Huh?" he turned to look at her for a moment over his shoulder as she spoke, then turned back, scooping the finished pieces of bacon onto a plate, and refreshing the batch in the pan. "Well... that's one way of lookin' at it, I guess."

He dipped a piece of bread in the grease and turned around to face her, leaning his weight on the counter by the stove as he munched on the appetizer he'd made himself. Unfortunately, he was too busy basking in the moment of her sitting there, sharing his thoughts with him -- that he didn't seem to realize how out of character it seemed at the time. It just felt... natural, to be here. Having a conversation like this.

"But the way I see it is... If it was my place, where I'd spent time with the people who matter, an' we'd made happy memories... Then I'd want someone else to get that chance, too. Even if it's in my abandoned place like this... it'd just be goin' to waste, anyway. I think... I'd want someone to take it over. Know that the happy memories didn't just end there." He paused, then, as though he realized how -- sappy he was starting to sound, clearned his throat, turning back to his project. "But uh. I mean... that's just what I think."

Edited 2011-06-10 01:29 (UTC)

She just watched him in stunned silence, eyes wide and vulnerable, colored stormy purple grey in the late morning light filtering in. Like Sora, something in his words resonated within her, destroying all sarcasm and snark and replacing the cynicism with something lighter. Something like hope. She could tell by his reaction to his own words that he felt corny. And maybe the words were sappy, but maybe they weren't. They meant something to her.

When he turned away, Megara silently slid off the chair and moved around the counter to stand behind him. Before he could react, she placed her forehead on his back, eyes closed. "...why did you have to say something so heroic?" she asked quietly, placing her hands against his skin. "Why do you keep making it so hard?" Questions she knew he didn't have an answer for, but she was tired of keeping it all inside.

The sudden touch caught him off guard, freezing him in his place for a few seconds. Truth be told, he didn't really want to move, wanting to savour the moment, as he relaxed from the inital shock. Was he finally getting through to her? Saying something she could relate to? Believe in? He'd never been good with words, but... he wasn't going to jinx this, either.

"Sorry..." he turned around to face her, tilting his head to the side just a little, as he brushed some of her strands of hair back behind an ear. "Guess I'm just -- too stubborn to change."

Edited 2011-06-10 03:14 (UTC)

She leaned her head into his hand, his rough skin at odds with the gentleness in the gesture. Moving closer, she lifted her eyes to his, smiling sadly. "Can't teach an old dog new tricks," Meg echoed his earlier words softly, hands resting on the broad expanse of his marked chest. Her eyes filled up with tears then, the smile breaking as she lowered her head to his chest and wept quietly, narrow shoulders heaving with the wasted effort of keeping her sobs contained.

"W-Why...?" she managed to whisper, but the rest of the question was too much to voice. Why couldn't she just stay away from him? Why did he always pull her in with his crooked, self-satisfied smirk and his strength and his secrets? Every defense she'd spent so long building up was crumbling down in that kitchen as she trembled against him. She was pathetic for trusting him, selfish for pulling him into her half life, stupid for believing in anything good.

And she was definitely falling for him.

"H-hey..." if he was caught off guard before, he was blown out of the water by what was happening now. He didn't even have to think about it -- his arms just instinctivly wrapped themselves around her small frame, pulling her in closer. Jecht rested his chin on top of her head, just standing there, holding her. Not for the first time in his life, he wished he had the words to offer comfort, but could only draw a blank.

He really was... terrible at this sort of thing. Here she was, finally letting him in, the vulnerability she kept so hidden surfacing. What could he do?

The blitzer released his grip for a moment, holding her by the shoulder with his one hand -- and reaching to catch a tear with the other. "No need for that, all right? The food's not gonna be that bad. I promise." And a wink, for good measure.

Pretty girls -- weren't meant to cry.

By the time he spoke again, the tears had mostly stopped. She looked up at him with all the pain she'd felt for so long -- and burst into a short, surprised laugh at his wink. "Wow. Don't promise what you can't deliver," she replied, voice husky from her crying session. Maybe Meg might have been put off by his choice of a joke after such a tense moment, but it felt like maybe it was his way of comforting her. It wasn't that he wasn't taking her seriously -- he just didn't know what to say.

She smiled slightly, reaching up to touch his jaw as she leaned against him.

Jecht grinned, though it seemed a little fragile. At least she hadn't smacked him after chancing such a lame joke... His body seemed to react before his mind resistered what was going on, arms finding their resting place around her waist as he tightened the embrace again.

"Haven't I told you yet?" his voice was low, even if he couldn't find the right words, at least he seemed to soften. "I always deliver..." he leaned down, closer and closer, eyes closing just slightly as he waited for his lips to make contact...

She was already closing her eyes and lifting her lips to his before he even stopped talking. Their lips met and she leaned into him entirely, his arms around her the only thing from keeping her steady and upright. Her hands curled into fists against his chest and when she finally came up for air, she had to blink rapidly to put the world back into focus.

"W-Wait...Jecht, you...you need to know something about me."

Was it all a dream? Maybe he was still asleep, he mused, until he heard her speak again. His eyes opened reluctantly, as he gazed down at her in the place she should have been all along. His eyes turned serious, determined. "There's nothing you can say that's gonna make me change my mind," he cemented the thought into words.

Stubborn old fool. She swallowed the lump forming in her throat and hugged him, unable to look into such an honest and straight-forward gaze. She simply nodded and buried her fingers into the shaggy locks of his dark hair, kissing him again. Maybe it didn't matter? Maybe he didn't need to know about the mistakes she'd made, her connection to Hades. If she could just freeze this one moment in time forever, everything would be perfect.

Meg broke the kiss again, smirking up at Jecht. "I think the eggs are about to burn."

"Mm," he muttered from deep within, enjoying every moment of this. He had felt the heat starting to rise, but chalked it up to the morning's events rather than the breakfast he had boasted about. As she pulled away slightly, he watched the stove from the corner of his eye, then looked down at Meg again.

With his hands secured around her waist, he picked her up, and turned about face in one swift motion, sitting her down on the unused space of the countertop as he now looked up at her with a devilish expression. "Let 'em burn..." he challenged, leaning upwards until their lips met again.

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Of All the Wormholes in All the World...[Completed]

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