title:
quickening
character(s):
Jessi, Kyle, others
genre:
not sure what this is. bare with me.
rating:
PG-13
summary: Jessi's feelings told in ten parts.
disclaimer:
I own nothing of kyle xy or jessi xx, but I do like to borrow them
every once and a while.
note:
my brain told me to do it. a collection of stray thoughts and
feelings, all from jessi's pov, of what she feels for kyle xy.
follows no particular order for seasons 1 – 3, but I certainly hope
I kept up with something that could be construed as chronological.
[quickening]
1.
Jessi remembers the first time she saw Kyle.
Fire was blazing, people were gathered and the air was filled with the ebb and flow of adolescent conversation and excitement. Something in her mind shifted, clicked. A mental push quickened her blood, rushing from limb to limb and her heart stopped—for a few seconds only, it seemed; seconds ticking off into eternity. Eyes met hers from across the fire. Blue blazing gold in the yellow light, and the face of a teenaged boy creased in puzzlement and confusion.
She knew then, if only for a split second, that nothing would ever be the same again.
2.
He saw her, and the world around them shook; magazines fell from their racks, drinks toppled over and chairs and tables fell to the ground. People screamed, but Jessi heard nothing, heard nothing at all. Except her heart beat, loud in her ears, and the shift-click of that strange something echoing in her mind.
Quickening; that's what it felt like, and the earthquake didn't help. Her eyes locked on his and all she felt was…something stirring inside, something strange and new and frightening, but so very, very familiar twisting through her like a snake, ensnaring her in its hold. Something…Just something about the boy with that innocent smile, that face of pale, flawless skin and the blue, blue eyes.
His eyes widened a fraction. He saw her. He noticed at her; and Jessi wanted so very, very desperately for those eyes to notice her again.
3.
The woods are quiet. Not even the call of a stray woodland creature making a sound. Jessi's head feels kind of funny. Like she's walking in a living dream and all her thoughts are echoing one name, one single name: Kyle. He's so close she can smell the scent of his cologne, the shampoo that he used on his hair that morning.
Everything is fuzzy around the edges.
She remembers going to work with Emily, but if she thinks too hard about that day, her head hurts. There's a mental wall, a block, and something in her mind echoes: Kyle.
He disappears down the dark tunnel, chasing after his sister, whose voice echoes back to him like the pied piper of fantastic dreams, mocking, teasing. She wants to trail after him, to understand why her thoughts are consumed by him, to smell that cologne and that shampoo, and get lost inside of him.
Stay put, he says. And Jessi has no choice but to comply.
4.
She feels lonely.
The apartment is dark, Emily is gone, and Jessi's mind says that she's always loved the dark. Says that she's always been content with her own solitude.
Then, why this feeling? This loneliness?
Why this pain? And why is she holding Lori's necklace and weeping over ended things? She doesn't understand. She's supposed to like strawberries and Avril Lavigne. Her head hurts, and tears pour down her cheeks. She feels so lonely she could die, but everything in her, every emotion, every stray thought, pulls her to one idea, forming in her mind—at first blurry, but getting clearer all the time—black hair, blue eyes and an innocent smile. Kyle. Everything begins and ends with Kyle.
Her father's gone.
Her mother's insane.
Maybe she's losing her mind too.
5.
Jessi still dreams of blood sometimes, and fire and falling blocks of concrete and screams. She dreams of the glint of a knife and the feel of soft, pliable flesh in her hand; a neck snapping, and the light going out of the man's eyes just like that, no fight. Nothing, and he's gone. She wonders if redemption will ever really be hers to claim. She wonders if Lori will ever look at her without fear still peeking around the edges. She wonders if Josh will ever stop looking at her warily, like she's some kind of animal. But, mostly, she wonders if Kyle will ever see her, ever see her really.
Her blood quickens in her body. She looks at her hands. Spreads her fingers out wide, and remembers the way Kyle held them when their minds connected, and for that split second, everything making sense; her loneliness subsiding knowing that she wasn't the only one like her in the world.
She wants to feel that way all the time, but she has a sneaking suspicion that the world will never be kind to an ex-murderer, super-powered girl like her.
6.
The kiss haunts her every waking hour.
She wants to feel his pulse underneath the soft ministrations of her lips. She wants to hear his heart beat roar like hers does when he comes near. It hurts to know he's chasing after someone else. That his heart aches, but hers is breaking, and there's no one to pick up the shattered, jagged little pieces.
She wants to cry, but she doesn't.
She grins. She bears it.
It's all she's got left now.
7.
He's looking at her.
Two months of moping, and now he's sneaking looks at her from across the room. She's puzzled by it. She doesn't understand.
In the distance, she can hear the soft notes of a piano; they're carried by the breeze, and there's no traffic, so even the Tragers can hear the expert playing, however faintly. She looks up from her book, but he's glancing away quickly, and she's frowning at him. He's not even listening to the sound of the notes lingering in the afternoon air.
He's talking to Declan. She wants to hone her ears to listen, should probably do it anyway, but she promised Nicole she'd be discreet.
Blue eyes meet brown.
Kyle smiles, and Jessi can't help the tingling warmth that races down her spine.
8.
She thinks it's an accident the first time he touches her.
Two months and he hasn't touched anyone really. Not in that way of his, not in that way that makes one feel like he's connecting to the very life-pulse of one's soul. She had been reading, downstairs in the den. Nicole, she could hear, bustling about in the kitchen preparing to summon everyone to dinner, and Kyle probably helping to set the table.
He could've just called her name. He should've just called her name. He didn't, and the touch…
The touch is gentle, innocent, the light brushing of fingertips across her shoulder, trailing down her arm. But she feels sparks, and heat, warmth pooling in her stomach, and it terrifies her. Her eyes widen. She jumps and her gaze snaps to his. His mouth parts, but he says nothing. He just smiles in that way of his and Jessi is trapped in the intensity of his gaze.
Her heart beats faster. She can hear his picking up too.
The world is silent around them, and Kyle's hand lingers, for just a moment longer than it should have.
Lori's call breaks the stillness; Kyle blinks as if he's just waking up from a dream.
And Jessi is left scared of what it could all mean.
9.
She thinks she's falling-in-love with him again. She knows that she's falling-in-love with him again.
He's looking at her more now, and the touches are becoming more frequent: a brush across her shoulder, lightly holding her hand. The caress of his eyes looking at her sends shivers down her spine. Lori is glaring at him in annoyance. Josh is snickering like they're all sharing some private joke, and Jessi is once again left to wonder after the strange turn of events her life has taken.
10.
He looks like he wants to tell her something, looks like he's scared to say it.
His blue eyes are shining with his fear. His heart is beating fast within the cave of his chest, and his hand is warm as it takes hold of hers.
He struggles, and she waits, wondering what it is that he fears. She can see the tension in his shoulders, hears it in his faltering voice, hears the swallowing of his nervous throat.
"Jessi, I—" He stops, swallows, and attempts to start again. "Jessi, I—"
But she doesn't give him the chance to respond, doesn't give him a chance to finish. She launches herself at him, and his arms circle around her, welcoming, open, wanting. His smile assures her. His laughter blazes across his senses the warm heat of sunlight across a cold earth. His lips descend on hers, and it's better than the first time. Or the second. It makes her heart sing and every emotion rush over her like dam being broken.
She grins against his lips. She meets his blue gaze with her brown.
Her eyes twinkled in mischief.
"You've been practicing."
[end]