Hello there,
I am Pspisina: a bored writer simply inspired by two well-written and performed characters. Sadly, they are not my creation.
This evolution takes place a couple of months after See Ya, the season finale.
As future chapters will be rated MA, this one will be too- just to be on the safe side.
Feedback is always appreciated, but mainly, happy reading.
Peace,
Psipsina
Day One: Night
She was spread out on the couch like an afternoon cat, her head propped up by her arm as she eagerly thumbed her way through a battered copy of Jane Eyre.
Her concentration was stolen by a gruff laugh - she glanced to see Nick a few yards away, a smile directed at his phone.
"Schmidt," he answered without looking up, knowing their conversation had already begun. "He just sent me a picture of himself in a sombrero. All it says is, 'Tequila is for pussies'," he half-lied, holding his phone out to show her, his eyebrows lifting in amusement. Nick failed to communicate the rest of his housemate's text, both self-conscious and confused by its content.
"We're going to have to buy a whole new jar just for this trip,' Jess replied knowingly, turning her attention back to her novel as Nick collapsed onto the adjacent corner of the couch and placed his boot-clad feet up on the coffee table.
It was just the two of them, Winston having left a couple of hours ago on a last-minute trip to New York with Shelby.
Seven days.
It hadn't hit them yet- why would it?
Seven long days, alone, together.
There would be something deeply intimate in the notion that they would soon recognize. This shared space and time belonged to them alone, and despite their many evenings spent together, a week was something new and exciting.
Perhaps this was why Nick felt a lightness surround him – he helplessly half-smiled as he flicked through a magazine.
"What?'" Jess asked, tilting her head as she too smiled.
"Nothin'" Nick shrugged, not knowing himself. They watched each other for a moment, their eyes flicking from pupil to pupil. He suddenly felt a different type of exchange growing as he held her gaze. These millisecond interactions always seemed to last much longer than in reality. He started to feel the familiar creeping of vulnerability, and his smile faltered a bit. He looked away.
Jess sighed as she tossed her book onto the coffee table. She stretched out languidly, her arms reaching far out behind her as she let out a soft groan of pleasure. With his head resting on his fist Nick half peered over the top of the glossy pages. His eyes slowly grazed her exposed belly button and the tender flesh beneath, lightly biting on his thumb as he titled his head in gentle appreciation.
He quickly darted his gaze back to the feature before him, entirely unaware of the how customary such moments had become between them.
Small, gentle smiles as they passed dinner plates, the teasing and quiet conversations on journeys in the back seat of the car…
'Men's feet point at what they want. His feet were pointing right at you…'
It was as if it had developed into the only language by which to communicate, and one that when ignored led to heated exchanges and playground punches.
It was a twist in a story that the loft's three other occupants had recognized, the protagonists lingering several chapters behind.
'Where's Nick, I want to tell him…'
'Okay… this should be fun. Nick has something to tell you too. He's in the bathroom."
Schmidt shot a loaded look to Winston, his lips pursed and expression serious.
'Really?'
'She's going to find out anyway…'
"You wanna watch a movie?" Jess asked after a little while, twisting her hair high above her through her fingers, examining the ends.
"Sure," he replied, throwing this magazine down, "what you thinking?"
"Ahmm… I haven't watched Dirty Dancing in a while…" She watched him for a response. Sensing none she started to chant. 'Now Iii've haad the time of-"
"Stop that…"
"-Haad the time of my-"
'I'm serious Jess-"
She exclaimed as a roughly thrown pillow hit her shoulder.
"Totally unnecessary." She straightened her glasses.
"Punishment," he answered, looking around for the remote.
"Punishment?"
"What can I say? I run a tight household,"
"Oh - you run this this place now?" she asked, sitting up to challenge him.
"See this right here?" he said, opening his arms wide and turning his body. "This," he pointed at his chest, his face serious, "this is my kingdom. As far as you can see- is mine. One day, it'll be yours. I am alpha-"
"...Are you quoting Lion King at me right now?"
"I may or may not be quoting the Lion King-"
"I hope you get stomped on by antelope…" Quiet for a moment. "The circle of liiiiife…"
"Stop that-" he interrupted, flicking through the pages of the TV guide. He looked across to her pursed lower lip, her frown and mock dejection almost triggering a smile from his own stubborn ones.
He ignored the momentary pull of her swollen mouth, the red and supple flesh begging to be nibbled- caressed-
"I'm Grumpy Nick Miller, " Jess began, "Rawr! I am angry at everything- Rawarr rawr-"
"I am Grumpy Nick Miller," he threw back. "Alpha," he added, shooting her a heavy look that was hard to decipher.
Something about the finality of his tone made her hesitate a second. It was if she felt a command or an unspoken rule, deep and instinctual. She ignored the flash of something sudden and unexpected within her body and quietly rearranged herself on the couch.
She watched him move about the room, closing curtains and engineering buttons on speakers.
Finally, he sat down, letting out a satisfied sigh as he flicked on the TV.
Jess crossed her arms across her torso, unconscious of how she gently pressed her breasts together as she rubbed her bare skin.
"You cold?"
"I'm fine."
"You're cold," Nick corrected. "Here," he said, unzipping and slipping off his burgundy hoodie. He held it out to her. She studied it for a moment. "Take it," he reaffirmed, shaking it once.
"Thank you." Jess put it on, warmed by his heat and his gesture.
'You're not drinking that, Jess,'
'Yes I am, Remy made it,'
'Come on Nick, dip your toe… drink some.'
'I'm not drinking that. Someone's gotta be able to fight you later.'
She lay back down, lifting her hand to rest by her mouth. As she inhaled in the sudden darkness of the credits, Jess felt comfortable and safe, her eyes drowsily closing a fraction at harmony of his aftershave - just for a moment.
Nick watched the light dance across her face as she half-hid behind frightened hands. His head lay tilted back against the couch.
A scream lashed out from the TV as the film claimed it's latest victim and he turned it attention back to the movie, uncertain about the purpose of his broken reverie.
"What is this Nick?" Jess exclaimed, turning her face but unable to tear her gaze away from the screen.
"It's a classic," he answered, his eyes firmly fixed on the images before them.
"It's freaking me out- look at that guy! Why is his face hanging off?" she cried, pointing at the screen.
"You wanna turn it off?" he asked, affected by her vulnerability but unwanting to upset her.
"No… Just," she hesitated, looking up to the ceiling as if to dispel her pride. "Would you come sit next to me?" She paused a moment, feeling exposed. "Please?"
"Sure", he answered gently without a second thought. "Move up." He sighed as if it were a small chore.
"Thanks…" Jess cawed as Nick cleared his throat and placed himself somewhat rigidly beside her.
There was quiet for a while.
It seemed heavy on them and she fought off questioning whether she would have asked the same of Winston or Schmidt. The answer would have undoubtedly surprised her.
Gradually Nick became aware of the heat of her bare arm leaning up against his. He had progressively become mindful to the scent of her, and how close their bodies had grown over the last hour.
Occasionally he would awkwardly shift his legs, and unable to relax fully. This kind of discomfort must be customary, he mused.
Further screams, rivers of flesh… occasionally she would turn her face towards him, her eyes squeezed tightly closed. An organic routine emerged where he would nudge her arm and with reassuring words alert her to when it the violence had passed.
A final time and he teased her, watching as she turned back to soon.
"Nick!" she admonished pushing him hard with both arms, "what the hell?"
"I'm sorry," he laughed as she poked him with her fingers 'hey… hey!" he reproached in play, blocking her movements, one by one. "I'm sorry,' he finished, grabbing her hand and letting it slip from his own when she stilled.
Jess came to a stop, her legs curled to her chest. She looked at him for a moment, not taking in how his eyes flickered to her mouth and back, too busy, mirroring his gesture.
"Ice cream," she said suddenly, unsure of the motive, but confident in the execution of her escape.
"…Ok-ay…"
She stood up on the pillows, stepping over his body in motion towards the fridge.
As her naked foot caught his thigh, she fell forwards, her hands quickly clutching the back of the couch. Instinctively and with action full of protection, Nick grabbed the back of her upper thigh, gripping its firm structure with a strong and steady hand.
"You OK?" he asked, letting go quickly.
"Yeah… That was just me. Defying gravity…"
Nick leant forward, attempting to displace the indiscernible feeling swelling inside him. It was if he'd spent the last three hours as an actor in a play, carried away by his character and forgetting himself entirely. He felt discovered, but from what he could not place.
Things felt strangely warm and familiar, yet out of place with the rhythm they were used to.
As she slipped out of view, Nick looked down to his hand, flexing the fingers and the ball of his palm. The fingers of his other clasped around the wrist. It was if her warmth had left a tangible imprint on his skin- hot, white heat mischievously toyed with his nerve endings.
He fell backwards, running two hands through his hair.
"You want some?" she asked gently, already propped against the counter.
"Um…" Nick stood up. "Nah," he answered joining her. He folded his arms as he leant against the fridge, his body facing hers.
"You know, when I was really sad, my mom always used to give me mint choc chip ice-cream."
"Yeah?"
"Mmh-huh," she sucked some off a spoon as she lifted herself up onto the counter top, "We had a HappyChocChip song."
She started humming to herself gently.
"I don't doubt it," he goaded, his mouth puckering with endearment he was keen to hide. He watched her for a minute, staring into the tub and humming quietly.
Her legs hung towards the ground, swinging ever so slightly. Nick gently tipped his head back against the cold door, his eyes downcast on their slender lines. He found himself imaging what it would feel like to have them wrapped around his waist, supple, lithe and warm. He looked up to her face, suddenly wanting nothing more that to pull her to him, using his weight to push her body down onto the counter…
Jess looked up from her spoon, affected by the dark, penetrating stare she now found herself a part of.
He broke her gaze, casually glancing to the mug that sat behind her. It was if she'd caught him in a secret moment, bare, human and raw.
'Just take it as the sincerest form of flattery.'
She held out the spoon to him.
Nick took a small step forward, taking it his hand and engulfing the desert into his mouth appreciatively. He moved back, his hand covering his mouth as a small laugh escaped his chest. "S'cawld" he indicated, his mouth full.
Jess smiled as she slid down off the counter, depositing the empty carton in the bin. Laughing his name she without thinking momentarily placed her thumb to the corner of his mouth, erasing a small fleck of cream.
'Alright pretty Polly- I know fourth graders who eat better than you."
They both paused a moment.
"Think I'm gonna hit-the-hay," Jess singed, "see you tomorrow," she moved off, "-night,"
"Sure," he nodded as he passed by him, "night," he added, turning slightly to watch her leave.
He rested on his shoulder, propped up against the fridge. Its subtle electric whirring mirrored the agitated current of his own powerful frame.
He was still for a while.
Thirty yards away Jess stared deeply into her reflection. Her pupils were dilated- her cheeks flushed, her breath sharp and shaky. She felt unsteady and tangled as she ran a hand through her hair.
Misplacing blame, her mind focused on the violent DVD they had watched- naturally, she shrugs off their exchanges.