Facing away from her, Jack dropped his head down. Tired, his body still felt worn. If he concentrated he could almost feel the places where it was still mending.
He could hear her moving, feel the bed shift under her pressure, but even then he wasn't prepared for her touch.
It wasn't that he didn't want it. Anything but. In fact he craved it, to feel alive, to feel anyone or anything. But then pity wasn't something he wanted, nor the recollection of how she'd dealt with him the evening before.
For a moment his muscles shifted under her touch. He reached his arm up, like an almost instinct reaction, and he covered his hand over hers. But then suddenly, as though he'd been burned, he pulled back again, flexed his shoulders.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2010-03-23 08:40 pm (UTC)He could hear her moving, feel the bed shift under her pressure, but even then he wasn't prepared for her touch.
It wasn't that he didn't want it. Anything but. In fact he craved it, to feel alive, to feel anyone or anything. But then pity wasn't something he wanted, nor the recollection of how she'd dealt with him the evening before.
For a moment his muscles shifted under her touch. He reached his arm up, like an almost instinct reaction, and he covered his hand over hers. But then suddenly, as though he'd been burned, he pulled back again, flexed his shoulders.
"Don't," he said weakly. "I can't."