Flamethroat

‘I wasn’t asking.’


Looking into Jack’s eyes I saw that his expression was serious. For a moment, I was worried that he was angry, his gaze was intense and burned right through me. A trickle of longing ran down my spine, but I ignored it. My entire body was tingling with anticipation, but he wasn’t to know that. My eyes drank in every detail of his face.

‘Please, Jack.’ I wasn’t quite sure whether I was begging him to leave me be or to kiss me. He assumed the latter.

Jack’s mouth came crashing down onto mine. Butterflies took flight in my stomach and an overwhelming sense of relief washed over me. Something inside me changed, never to be reversed. This feeling could be dwelled upon later because for now I was glad to feel his breath in unison with mine.

At first I fretted that I was not kissing him properly. Was I a bad kisser? Were my lips too moist? Where was I supposed to put my hands?

When Jack began to pull away, a small whine escaped my mouth. I had never heard myself make that noise before, but it seemed to make sense to Jack for he responded with such enthusiasm that I was rendered momentarily breathless by the force of the next wave of kisses.

It was at that moment, I stopped worrying. Shivers rocketed through my body when I felt Jack’s tongue against my lips; I opened my mouth and our tongues met. Jack’s hand travelled to my thigh. Jolts of electricity coursed through me. I didn’t want to stop him.

It all happened very quickly. It was uncontrollable. In my moment of excitement the bed sheets caught fire and Jack’s shirt ignited.

Jack cursed and we both jumped up from the mattress.

‘I’m sorry!’ I cried.

After patting away the smouldering bits of his shirt, Jack began to pat down the smoking bed.

‘I didn’t, I mean … I didn’t know I was going to-’ I spluttered.

‘It’s fine,’ said Jack, his hands on his hips. His face was very red and sweat drenched his brow. ‘It’s like kissing the sun.’

‘Are you all right?’ I asked.

‘I’m okay,’ he reassured.

‘Can’t we just … can’t we just lie down together? Try and get some rest?’ I asked.

Jack nodded. ‘I think that is safest.’

Once the lamps had been extinguished, the only light came from the fireplace. Jack took me to the bed and together we lay there, entwined in each other’s arms, simply embracing. It didn’t take long for us to fall asleep.





Chapter Thirteen


H.E.L.E.N.A


I was woken by the sound of someone knocking on the door of our room. Groggily, I sat up and disentangled myself from Jack, who was still snoring loudly. It proved to be difficult because his arms were wrapped so tightly around me. It did not feel as though I had been asleep for very long, however the embers in the fireplace indicated that a few hours had passed.

And then I remembered. The meeting! The clock on the mantelpiece indicated that it was half past midnight. I was half an hour late! Cursing, I jumped up from the bed and started looking around for my shoes.

‘Jack!’ I hissed. ‘Wake up!’

When Jack did not stir, I shook him violently. He woke with a start and looked around distractedly, until he remembered where he was.

‘Whassamatta?’ he mumbled, sitting up.

‘We’re late,’ I fretted.

Someone knocked on the door again.

‘Coming!’ I called.

I flung the door open and found my father on the landing. He did not look impressed.

‘What are you doing?’ he said annoyed. ‘We’ve been waiting for you downstairs. It’s dangerous to loiter, you know.’

‘I know, I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘We overslept.’

My father looked over my shoulder, at Jack who was fumbling around with his socks.

‘Did you – did you share a bed?’ my father said sharply.

‘No,’ I lied. He did not look convinced.

‘Go downstairs, Avalon. Your mother is waiting.’

‘All-all right,’ I stammered.

Hawthorne made to follow. ‘Can Hawthorne come?’ I asked.

‘No. He is too noticeable,’ my father said.

Crestfallen, I said ‘Hawthorne. Stay.’

I stepped past my father and began down the hall, only to notice that he did not follow.

‘Aren’t you coming?’ I asked.

‘In a minute,’ he replied. He was still watching Jack fumble with his boots. ‘You go downstairs. Now.’

I paused, but decided against arguing. Instead, I left Jack and my father on the landing. My mother stood nervously by the door dressed in a long, dark cloak. I knew she did not feel the cold, so the only explanation for this cloak, would be to provide some kind of concealment.

‘Sorry,’ I mumbled, giving my mother a small hug.

‘Where is your father?’ she enquired, looking up the stairs, expecting to see his boots descending.

‘Oh, he’s talking to Jack.’ I shifted uncomfortably.

‘Oh.’

The following silence was rather awkward. I could hear the grandfather clock in the lobby ticking loudly.

‘So are you two together?’

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