Take a Deep Breath (And Count to Ten)
Title: Take a Deep Breath (And Count to Ten).
Fandom: Red Eye.
Characters: Jackson Rippner/Lisa Reisert.
Rating: PG-13, for implications of some ~kinky things~.
Word Count: 356.
Spoilers: Just assume there are some for the movie, okay?
Summary: She has nightmares far too often now and they’re always about him.
She has nightmares far too often now and they’re always about him.
The scene changes - one night it’s a hotel, the next a bar. They’re frequently on a plane together, in the bathroom and every single time, his body’s pressed against hers. His fingers curl tighter and tighter around her throat as she fights for air, clawing at his arm. He doesn’t waver, though. Instead, he presses closer until she’s ready to pass out.
He has her up against walls, doors, pressed against the brick side of a building in some alleyway ripped straight out of a horror movie. He’s got that hole in his neck where she stabbed him and Lisa can’t look away; his eyes, so blue she’s afraid of the ocean now, and the way he breathes through that hole.
She shivers, shudders against him and eventually stops fighting. That’s when she wakes up, breath ragged as she reaches for the lamp beside her bed. The shadows make it worse, make her feel like he’s there watching her.
What’s worse are the dreams where he’s not trying to kill her, the ones where Jackson’s just toying with her. She can smell the alcohol on his breath, can feel the warmth of it against her cheek as he leans closer.
“Are you scared?” he breathes and then runs the tip of his nose along her cheek, chuckling darkly as she shivers for totally different reasons.
He causes a fire in her stomach, makes her want to scratch his skin until it bleeds. He never kisses her, but he always comes close, and she can never get herself to press closer. His hand against her throat is now erotic, leaving just enough of an airway for her to beg for what she wants.
“You,” she breathes, eyes always locked on his. “All of you.”
She wakes up in a sweat, her hand at her throat. Those are the time she wishes he was there, in the darkness and she knows that it’s wrong.
She really wishes she could just stop dreaming all together, because she doesn’t know what she prefers; fearing Jackson, or loving him.
Fandom: Red Eye.
Characters: Jackson Rippner/Lisa Reisert.
Rating: PG-13, for implications of some ~kinky things~.
Word Count: 356.
Spoilers: Just assume there are some for the movie, okay?
Summary: She has nightmares far too often now and they’re always about him.
She has nightmares far too often now and they’re always about him.
The scene changes - one night it’s a hotel, the next a bar. They’re frequently on a plane together, in the bathroom and every single time, his body’s pressed against hers. His fingers curl tighter and tighter around her throat as she fights for air, clawing at his arm. He doesn’t waver, though. Instead, he presses closer until she’s ready to pass out.
He has her up against walls, doors, pressed against the brick side of a building in some alleyway ripped straight out of a horror movie. He’s got that hole in his neck where she stabbed him and Lisa can’t look away; his eyes, so blue she’s afraid of the ocean now, and the way he breathes through that hole.
She shivers, shudders against him and eventually stops fighting. That’s when she wakes up, breath ragged as she reaches for the lamp beside her bed. The shadows make it worse, make her feel like he’s there watching her.
What’s worse are the dreams where he’s not trying to kill her, the ones where Jackson’s just toying with her. She can smell the alcohol on his breath, can feel the warmth of it against her cheek as he leans closer.
“Are you scared?” he breathes and then runs the tip of his nose along her cheek, chuckling darkly as she shivers for totally different reasons.
He causes a fire in her stomach, makes her want to scratch his skin until it bleeds. He never kisses her, but he always comes close, and she can never get herself to press closer. His hand against her throat is now erotic, leaving just enough of an airway for her to beg for what she wants.
“You,” she breathes, eyes always locked on his. “All of you.”
She wakes up in a sweat, her hand at her throat. Those are the time she wishes he was there, in the darkness and she knows that it’s wrong.
She really wishes she could just stop dreaming all together, because she doesn’t know what she prefers; fearing Jackson, or loving him.