Author's Note: Well, I think this is my first JackxSarah story. I feel almost like it's sacrilegious to write Jack with someone who's not Stress but, as long as it's Sarah – and, therefore, canon – I think I can forgive myself. This is dedicated to the heat wave hitting the States. Thank goodness it's almost over (here in Jersey at least, woot).
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters mentioned in this story. They are the creative property of Disney.
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Haze
And they're watching us.
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Romance is the glamour which turns the dust of everyday life into a golden haze.
– Amanda Cross
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It's hot outside. It's hot inside, too, but I'm not concerned with my own comfort. I can always reach in the icebox for summertime relief. What can he do? He, out on the hot and muggy streets of the City, surrounded by enough people that the body heat marks a ten degree increase to the already sweltering heat.
I can imagine what he'll look like when he follows David home tonight. Face red, sweat-soaked hair – the sweat turning the sandy strands shades darker -- plastered to his forehead, his mouth slightly open in an attempt to pant away the feverishness. But he'll be smiling, I'm sure.
Despite the torridity of the season, Jack will be smiling because he will be here. He will be by my side. And the heat that will overcome us both, even without a single touch, will rage with an intensity to rival that of the Sun.
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The temperature dips as the fiery Sun sets for the night but the faint heat remains, almost as a reminder for what we have to look forward to tomorrow.
Mama and Papa go to bed early, shortly after the darkness settles over the City. Les has already been asleep; he lost all of his energy that afternoon, fighting the warm weather to earn a few dimes. David sat up with Jack and me, the three of us sitting at the kitchen table, discussing the extreme weather. It's almost like a blanket had been dropped over the island of Manhattan, trapping us in a sweltering existence with no sign of relief in sight.
A quaint silence seems to settle known, beneath the blasted blanket. I sneak a glimpse over at him, and I see that he's been watching me for a while. The sweat from a day out in the sun had all but dried; his hair, that sweet sandy shade, had returned to normal though it remained limp, without the strength to appear as tousled as it normally did. His cheeks had lost the red tint of a minor sunburn and he's smiling at me.
I smile back.
David yawns just then – it's a fake yawn and, for that, I'm grateful – and announces he needs to go to sleep. As soon as he is away from the table, we escape. The roof top was calling for us.
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Together, we're watching them. Them. The people who come out at night, anxious to enjoy the brief respite from the heat. They know, with a few hours, the Sun will rise and, with that, the heat will return. So they sneak from their tenements, like the rats they are – like the rats we are – and they scurry and the search for something to cool them off.
And they're watching us. Even if they don't know that we are there, their eyes stray to the rooftops and they search out the source of warmth that is emanating from us both. Our hearts beat in unison, our callused hands intertwine and we sit together. No words are exchanged; we, too, are searching for relief. We find it in each other's company.
We sit that way – he and I, watching them, watching us – through the course of the night. It's almost enchanting, I say, and he murmurs his agreement. I wonder if he knows what enchanting means. I wonder if I know. It just feels so good being with him.
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We've been outside for too long now. I can already see the Sun beginning on it's daily ascent. It's accompanied by a brownish haze, complete with the dust and dirt from a too-dry City street. It's hard to watch the people on the street now and I feel that now, we are alone.
The haze is a mask for me, hiding the pair of us from them. They watch us, always expecting the young adults that we are to fall into disarray and corruption. They can't see us through the haze, through the fog, through the mist.
And that's when Jack Kelly leans over and kisses me.
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Jack says now that it's time for him to go. I don't want him to but I understand. It's another day of waiting inside, thread and needle in my hand, wondering how the heat is treating him. My emotions are all enflamed, as I watch Jack disappear amidst the haze that protects us from Society's prying eyes.
It's hot outside.
It's even hotter on the inside.