beyond my anger
Title: Beyond My Anger
Prompt: un_love_you- I was wrong about you.
Fandom: Lost
Pairing: Jack/Kate [implied Sawyer]
Word Count: 221
Rating: PG
Table: Here.
Spoilers: Through S4 I guess. Doesn't give anything away, though.
Summary: Jack's anger gets the best of him from time to time, and Kate always waits.
Notes: 1/30.
"Damnit, Kate! You're never going to change!" Jack shouted as the glass shattered and the silence drowned the room. His tie swung violently as he slammed the door shut. Absentmindedly, she picked up the large shards and placed them on the counter before slinking down into herself. She breathed heavily and pushed her tangled hair out of her flushed face. The phone was still on-the green light still flashing, and his voice still waiting on the other line. It sat on the floor among crushed words. She crawled over, hesitantly.
"Sorry," she whispered, distant, hanging up.
Her teary eyes had not yet dried. She was in that same ratty tank top and flannel white bottoms. He came in, quietly. Did he know she was awake? He lied in bed, sighing heavily. He knew.
"I was wrong," he said, however quietly. She wasn't sure she heard right until he rolled over. He pushed her matted hair behind her ear and stroked it once. His protective hand was on her shoulder, and he turned her over to face him. The vulnerability was striking and took him back for but a second. He put his hand on her cheek, stained with remnants of a dreadful day. It was as if his guilt was painted upon her face. "I was wrong about you," he repeated.
Prompt: un_love_you- I was wrong about you.
Fandom: Lost
Pairing: Jack/Kate [implied Sawyer]
Word Count: 221
Rating: PG
Table: Here.
Spoilers: Through S4 I guess. Doesn't give anything away, though.
Summary: Jack's anger gets the best of him from time to time, and Kate always waits.
Notes: 1/30.
"Damnit, Kate! You're never going to change!" Jack shouted as the glass shattered and the silence drowned the room. His tie swung violently as he slammed the door shut. Absentmindedly, she picked up the large shards and placed them on the counter before slinking down into herself. She breathed heavily and pushed her tangled hair out of her flushed face. The phone was still on-the green light still flashing, and his voice still waiting on the other line. It sat on the floor among crushed words. She crawled over, hesitantly.
"Sorry," she whispered, distant, hanging up.
Her teary eyes had not yet dried. She was in that same ratty tank top and flannel white bottoms. He came in, quietly. Did he know she was awake? He lied in bed, sighing heavily. He knew.
"I was wrong," he said, however quietly. She wasn't sure she heard right until he rolled over. He pushed her matted hair behind her ear and stroked it once. His protective hand was on her shoulder, and he turned her over to face him. The vulnerability was striking and took him back for but a second. He put his hand on her cheek, stained with remnants of a dreadful day. It was as if his guilt was painted upon her face. "I was wrong about you," he repeated.