Absolution

His arms wrapped even tighter around her waist. “Why?” she demanded, breathless with the combination of being this close to Jack and of what he was suggesting. She tried to resist the urge to hold on to him even tighter still.

 

“Did you ever dance with your Dad like this when you were a kid, standing on his feet?” he asked, as she felt him lift her.

 

“Is that what you’re doing?”

 

“Yeah,” he huffed, her weight shifting again. “There, that’s it.”

 

“That’s what?” she demanded, afraid to move.

 

“Just relax.”

 

“I’m relaxed, what makes you think I’m not relaxed?”

 

He chuckled and the sound filled her with joy, despite her precarious position. Suddenly, she realised she couldn’t feel his hands anymore.

 

“Jack, where are your hands?”

 

“I’m holding your… jeans.”

 

Realisation dawned. “You’re holding my ass, aren’t you.”

 

He chuckled again. “Yeah.”

 

She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

 

“You better watch it, mister. No funny business.”

 

“Best behaviour, ma’am. I promise.” The smile in his voice was obvious. When he spoke again a moment later though, he was deadly serious. “I’ve got your feet on top of mine now, so we can dance like this all night if you want to.”

 

They began to sway from side to side. Now that the blood had stopped rushing to her head, she could hear the music again. She tried to concentrate on that, rather than the fact that she was in such close proximity to Jack and she was actually dancing.

 

“Is this alright? You’re not saying much.”

 

She nodded into his neck but couldn’t bring herself to speak. He rubbed her back gently with one hand, sending shivers through her. Slowly, she gave herself over to the movement, relishing the way her body moved with his.

 

As the song ended and another began, the tears came, silently sliding down her cheeks and burying themselves in his shirt. She felt like she was floating and Jack was her anchor, solid and safe and here. She wished the moment would last forever.

 

He was holding her in his arms again, where she felt so warm and safe and comfortable that it scared her. With an aching heart, she pushed aside the reflection with a sigh that emerged as more of a choking sound.

 

“Are you okay?” Jack asked gently and they stopped moving, his hand motionless on her back.

 

She nodded into his neck, afraid to speak in case her voice betrayed her.

 

“The last time we did this was at the Pearl Jam concert,” he said, as the swaying began again, slow and rhythmic.

 

He pulled her closer, his hand strong and firm against her back. She felt like it was burning a hole through her shirt.

 

“We were queuing to get into the venue and the support band came on. We danced while we were waiting, in front of everyone.” She heard the smile in his voice. “It was your idea, as I remember it – you didn’t exactly give me much of a choice.”

 

The usual black void engulfed her as she thought about the night of the accident. He might as well have been talking about someone else. She was almost jealous of her other self from that night, dancing with Jack, having a great time.

 

The music faded as the song came to an end and they stopped moving. She stood with her arms around his neck, the rhythmic beating of his heart against her chest almost mesmerising.

 

“Are you ready for a break?” he asked, gently brushing her hair away from her shoulder.

 

“Just one more?” she whispered, not ready to let go of the moment just yet.

 

“You’re the boss.”

 

They began to sway in time to the music again and she closed her eyes. She let the music in – properly, this time – and it took her back to places she hadn’t been in a long time. Memories flooded through her. Jack’s shirt felt damp beneath her cheek and she sniffed, opening her eyes and blinking in the dull light of her living room.

 

“Hey, hey – what’s all this?” Jack soothed, smoothing her hair away from her face as she pulled away from him.

 

“I think I need to sit down,” she whispered, light-headed suddenly.

 

“Okay, sure, just a second here.” He manoeuvred them both towards the couch and turned around so her back was facing it. “I’m just going to lower you down here, just hold on to my – yeah, that’s it. Okay, there you go, no problem,” he said gently, easing her onto the couch.

 

She sniffed again, wiping her eyes with trembling fingers.

 

“You okay?” he asked nervously, sitting on the edge of the couch beside her. “Did I say something wrong?”

 

“No,” she mumbled vaguely. “I just felt a little dizzy, but I’m fine now.”

 

“You look kinda pale. I’ll get you some water.”

 

She didn’t bother arguing and watched as he disappeared into the kitchen. Unlocking her braces with trembling fingers, she eased herself back into the couch as he came back to sit beside her again, glass of water in hand.

 

“Here. Maybe you should drink this,” he suggested, and she took the proffered glass, taking a small sip. “Better?”

 

“Thanks. I just… I think it was just the… everything.”

 

She rested the glass on her thigh, watching it closely, as if it might provide all the answers to the questions in her head.

 

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