DISCLAIMER: I don't own Night World. *sniff*

A/N: Another one-shot, yeah? YEAH! XD This is actually inspired by a scene in this novel called: "The Pretend Wife" by Bridget Asher (a totally cool book about true love and finding the courage to do what you want and whatsoever). So, yeah. This scene gave me slight goosebumps because it was so, so surreal and imaginative and childish and so, so sweet. *rubs nose* So here 'ya go.


Stay

. . .

This is the last night that they're going to spend together before Jez departs for the epic battle.

For the Apocalypse.

Which was why Jez and Morgead were sitting close together by the balcony outside. They were sitting on the rough steps, with their knees touching as they looked up at the sky, watching their surroundings with keen eyes.

Morgead was holding her hand, staring at the tall trees near the balcony. There were fireflies flying around the grass and trees, blinking with light. Blinking with light in the darkness.

Like sparking hope in a fruitless situation.

"Do you think I—we—could do this? Survive the Apocalypse?" Jez asked quietly. She was nervous—and Morgead knew it. She was nervous and scared. She's not feeling confident in the least.

"I don't know," Morgead admitted softly. He looked away from the sky, staring at the ground—at their hands. "I don't know."

Jez squeezed his hand, watching the dark sky with her silvery blue eyes. Bright, distant stars were scattered around the dark, dark sky. The moon, stars, and fireflies were the only light sources they have for the night. The moonlight was shining down at them . . . as if it was a promise.

And they like it. They like it because everything felt perfect. Intimate. Just for the two of them.

"Morgead," Jez murmured, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand, "I don't want to go."

"I don't want you to go either."

"But I have to." A quiet sniff.

"I know."

"This is bullshit."

"I know." Morgead didn't know how to comfort Jez. No, he didn't know how to comfort people—period.

So when she looked up, tears in her eyes—he just followed his instincts and tightly, protectively wrapped his arms around her. Morgead pulled her closer, gently stroking her fiery red hair as Jez buried her face in his blue shirt. She wasn't crying—much.

Jez was just tearing up. She's a tough girl. A very, very tough girl. She also tries to avoid emotional states such as this.

And he admired her for those. For being tough and for trying to avoid uncomfortable emotional states.

Suddenly, Jez snorted. She pulled away from him, rubbing her puffy red eyes—chuckling. Jez kept her eyes on the rough ground as she willed her tears from her eyes.

Morgead cocked an eyebrow. "Mood swings?"

He was trying to lighten up the mood. He didn't want their last night together to involve lots of tears and painful goodbyes. They're not saying goodbye—not at all. This is not a goodbye. They're both sure of that.

Jez rolled her eyes, intertwining their fingers together as she stared up at the sky again. "No. Just something I remembered."

He kept silent, waiting for her to continue.

She glanced at him, smiling. "Remember that guy that we used to talk to?"

"Be more specific," Morgead replied dryly.

"I was about to get to the specific part," Jez said as she smirked. Good, they're back in their usual ways. She wanted that. To feel normal with Morgead and not worry about tomorrow for the last night she has with him. "You remember that guy that talks to fishes?"

Morgead felt the corner of his lips twitch upwards. "Yeah," he paused, "I wonder what happened to that guy."

"Me too," Jez said thoughtfully. "I can't believe he talks to fishes and actually gets paid for doing so." She chuckled.

"The guy's nice. What was his name again?" Morgead asked, rubbing a thumb across her knuckles.

"Mr. Professor," Jez snorted again, rubbing her nose with her knuckles. "I can't remember. It was way back when."

Morgead had a slight smile on his face. "He believes that fishes have languages," he said as he shook his head amusedly.

Jez smiled, sighing wistfully. "Maybe everything has a language. We just probably don't understand it."

"I never knew you were a philosopher, Jez," Morgead commented. Which ended up with him getting elbowed in the stomach.

"Watch it," Jez warned, playfully glaring at him.

Morgead chuckled in reply, pulling her close to him—as close as he could. He didn't want her to go. He didn't want her to go ever.

And then, they just sat there—side by side, watching the fireflies blink in the grass. There were so many of them, all of them flying around and lighting up here and there. Morgead and Jez watched, interested. They faintly wondered if the fireflies use a language that they don't know of. So they began to tell each other what they thought the fireflies were saying.

"That one over there is trying to seduce that firefly there," Morgead stated, pointing at the fireflies. "Its saying, You've got a great body. I'll take you to my tree house!"

"That firefly is saying, Shithead, I already have a boyfriend!" Jez laughed. Then she pointed at another firefly. "That one's saying, Come with me! Come with me!"

"And that one's saying, No, I don't like you! Fuck off, bitch!" Morgead laughed, watching the fireflies. This felt so nice . . . just sitting with her and imagining, he thought.

"Oh and that one there is saying . . ." Jez trailed off, squinting at the fireflies, "I have to go somewhere! I need to do something! I'll miss you!"

Morgead half-smiled—almost sadly. But he forced his happiness back, pushing the thoughts of Jez leaving tomorrow in the back of his head. Savoring the moment. "That one's saying, Stay with me forever! Stay, stay, stay."

Jez felt her eyes begin to sting, looking up at Morgead and gently pressing her lips on his. She wrapped her arms around him as he wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing themselves closer to one another and deepening the kiss.

She loved that firefly. Because all she wanted was to stay, stay, stay.

. . .

End


A/N: So how was it? Making this a Jez x Morgead was more touching than a lady talking to a girl, yah? 'Cause in the scene, the lady was talking to a girl and they were imagining that everything has a language that they don't understand and they were doing exactly what Morgead and Jez were doing with the fireflies. Imagining. *sniff* So yeah, that was my inspiration . . .

More one-shots might come from moi (don't know if I spelled that right in French). XD I'm reading lots and lots of books from the library (I finally went to the public library in my area for the first time! *squeals*) and mostly everything I read was inspiring. But this one was just so sweet and surreal and imaginative that I wanted to write a scene based on one of my favorite scenes in that book. *sniff* So there you go. I hope you all liked it! ^_^ I might (might, might) make a one-shot based on my experience about being alone while watching the fireworks…but whatever.

Review please? Thank you SO much guys! :)