He's usually woken up by Elsa letting the dogs out in the morning. He's grateful, don't get him wrong, but Jesus, did she have to do her meditation shtick so early in the morning? The dogs are barking around like crazy. After the first two weeks of futile battles, she's pretty much given up on stopping them from eating North's flowers, so the little demons are left to do as they please. Still half-asleep, Jack drags himself to the window and leans his forehead against the cool window glass. His blurry vision slowly adjusts to the daylight.
In the backyard, Elsa is unrolling her yoga mat in the shade. Her hair is tied in a high ponytail, loose curls brushing her shoulders when she moves. From upstairs, he can see how well-shaped her body is. Toned muscles; long, lean legs; curves perfectly outlined by her snuggly fit leggings and goddamn sports bra. She steps into the center of the mat and starts her routine with a long vertical stretch and slow and steady breaths. Forms change in sets, gaining complexity little by little. Her movements are loose, flowing naturally from one stance to the next like she's dancing, which only heightens how sluggish his non-caffeinated body feels. God, he hates early birds.
His head bumps against the glass, making a noise that she apparently hears from downstairs. She looks up, startled, and her eyes widen.
Busted, Jack sighs as he slides his window open. "Should you be moving around that much? Your tattoo's not fully healed yet," he says, voice still raspy from just waking up.
"You said I could test things out to see how I felt."
He uses his right arm to hold his upper body out the window frame. "And?"
Elsa shrugs. "Minor discomfort. Nothing terrible."
"You sure you don't want me to check on that healing for you?"
She snorts, shaking her head in disbelief. "Aren't you supposed to be sleeping right now?"
He smirks. "I'm a professional. My customer's condition is my top priority."
"Right." Elsa rolls her eyes. "I think I'll manage. But thanks for your concern."
"In that case, I'll try to get a few more hours of sleep if you don't mind. You know where to find me when you want that professional opinion," he sings the last part, bringing his head back inside. Before shutting the curtains, he adds, "And don't push yourself, lady!"
"Sweet dreams, Jackson!"
My brain's been in pregnancy fic (aka Time After Time) mode lately and it just feels confusing to come back to this story...