The rain began late in the afternoon, a soft patter that quickly turned into a steady downpour. By the time Elsa made her way downstairs, the cottage was enveloped in a gray haze, the sound of the rain filling every corner of the space. She hesitated at the bottom of the stairs, her eyes flicking toward the living room where Jack sat slouched on the couch, his focus on the rain streaking down the window.
He hadn't noticed her yet, or if he had, he gave no indication. His posture was relaxed, one arm draped across the back of the couch, but Elsa knew better. There was a tension in his stillness, a quiet tightness in the way his fingers tapped against his knee. The air between them was thick with the echoes of last night, the unspoken argument, the invisible wall they'd both helped to build.
She moved to the kitchen, keeping her steps light as if afraid to disturb the fragile peace. The fridge offered little inspiration, but she busied herself with gathering ingredients for tea, anything to distract herself from the pull of his presence.
As the kettle began to hum, Elsa turned toward the living room again, catching a glimpse of Jack as he rubbed a hand over his face. He looked tired, more so than usual. The soft light from the window cast shadows across his sharp features, accentuating the weariness in his expression.
"Tea?" she asked softly, the word slipping out before she could stop it.
Jack's head turned toward her, his eyes locking onto hers for a fleeting moment before he nodded. "Yeah, thanks."
Her hands moved mechanically, pouring the steaming liquid into two mismatched mugs. She carried them into the living room, hesitating before placing one on the small table near Jack. He murmured his thanks, his voice low, and she retreated to the armchair across from him, cradling her own mug.
Jack leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his mug held loosely in his hands. Elsa watched him from over the rim of her cup, noting the way his hair had fallen slightly out of place, the faint crease between his brows. He looked like he had a thousand words on the tip of his tongue, but none of them were coming out.
She didn't dare break the silence either. Instead, she turned her gaze to the window, watching the rain as it blurred the edges of the world outside. It felt fitting, somehow, like a reflection of the haze that had settled over them.
The weight of the quiet grew unbearable, and Elsa shifted in her seat, setting her mug on the floor beside her. Jack's eyes flicked to the movement, his lips pressing into a thin line as if he were bracing himself for something.
But she said nothing. Instead, she rose and moved to the window, pressing her palm against the cool glass. The rain was mesmerizing in its persistence, a ceaseless cascade that seemed determined to wash everything away.
Behind her, she heard Jack's soft exhale, followed by the creak of the couch as he stood. Her pulse quickened as his presence moved closer, the warmth of him cutting through the chill of the rain-soaked air.
"Do you ever miss it?" he asked suddenly, his voice breaking the stillness. She turned her head slightly, catching his reflection in the glass. His expression was unreadable, his gaze fixed on the storm outside.
"Miss what?" she asked cautiously.
"The calm before everything unraveled," he murmured, his voice tinged with a wistful ache. He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture almost absent, like he was trying to ground himself in the memory. "Back when it all felt…simple." Only hours had passed, but it felt as if an eternity had stretched between then and now.
Elsa swallowed hard, the lump in her throat making it impossible to respond. She knew what he meant...before the dangers, before the sacrifices, before the haunting memory of what they'd almost lost. Back when their love had been a refuge instead of a battlefield.
"I don't know," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "Do you?"
Jack didn't answer right away. Instead, he moved to stand beside her, his shoulder close enough to brush hers but not quite touching. The tension in the air seemed to hum louder, a charged silence that spoke volumes neither of them dared to voice.
"I think-" he began, then stopped, shaking his head. He turned away, walking back to the couch with a restless energy. "Forget it."
The moment broke, leaving Elsa staring after him, her heart aching with the weight of all they couldn't say. She wanted to reach out, to close the distance between them, but the fear that had been her constant companion held her back.
The rain continued to fall, relentless and unforgiving, as if it could drown out the turmoil between them. Elsa stayed by the window long after Jack had settled back onto the couch, her thoughts as turbulent as the storm outside.
Elsa had spent most of the afternoon in the kitchen, unsure of how to fill the time. Cooking felt like a futile attempt at normalcy. The thought of making dinner seemed exhausting, especially when they both had so much on their minds. Instead, she made the decision to order takeout. It was simple, practical, and at least it didn't require any effort beyond making a call. The thought that they had a cook, slipped her mind.
As she placed the order, Jack wandered into the living room. He sat down on the couch, picking up a book from the table, though his eyes hardly followed the text. His mind seemed far away, a million miles apart despite being right there in the same room.
Elsa returned to the living room, phone in hand, to find Jack flipping through the pages of a novel with no real intent to read. She slid onto the armchair across from him, crossing her arms, watching him for a moment. He caught her gaze, offering a small, forced smile.
"Do you want to talk about anything?" she asked, her voice low and tentative.
Jack shook his head slightly, his eyes returning to the page. "No, not really."
There was no anger in his tone, no resentment. Just a quiet, weary kind of acceptance, as if the space between them had become too large for words to close.
Instead of diving into more silence, Jack raised his head and, with an exaggerated air of seriousness, asked, "Hey, do you know what 'serendipity' means?"
Elsa blinked, caught off guard by the question. She tilted her head, trying to read the intent behind his words. "Uh, it's…the occurrence of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way?"
Jack nodded thoughtfully, as though processing the answer, before looking down at the book again. But then, just as he was about to flip to the next page, he suddenly asked, "What about 'ephemeral'? Do you know what that means?"
Elsa rolled her eyes, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "It means lasting for a very short time. Why are you asking all these random words?"
Jack let out a sigh, closing the book with exaggerated slowness. He was trying, in his own way, to break the tension. "I don't know," he admitted. "I just…I thought maybe asking you would be less awkward than, you know, not talking at all."
Elsa chuckled softly, shaking her head. "Is that really what we've come to? You asking me the meaning of words just to fill the silence?"
Jack shrugged, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "Well, it's better than the alternative, right?"
"Maybe," she said, her eyes softening. "But I miss the days when we didn't have to make up excuses to talk to each other."
The words lingered in the air, unspoken, but heavy nonetheless. Jack's smile faded slightly as he looked away, his fingers absently tracing the edges of the book in his lap. He didn't want to address it, but the weight of it pressed on him all the same.
Before Elsa could say anything more, the doorbell rang, breaking the spell of their quiet moment. She stood up quickly, grateful for the distraction. "That's dinner," she said with a small, relieved smile, her tone carrying an edge of lightness.
Jack followed her to the door, his footsteps slow and deliberate. As she took the bag from the delivery driver, he stood behind her, glancing out the window at the rain as though looking for something beyond the confines of the house.
When Elsa returned to the living room with the takeout, Jack sat down at the table, trying once more to settle into a semblance of normalcy. He picked up his fork, the familiar motions feeling like a return to routine, but everything still felt off. The food was good, as takeout always was, but it didn't quite fill the emptiness.
They ate in silence, the occasional clink of silverware the only sound between them. For a brief moment, Jack allowed himself to think back to when they'd sat across from each other with laughter and ease, sharing more than just meals. But those days felt like a lifetime ago, and the space between them now was too vast to bridge with something as simple as a joke about words.
They didn't talk about what had happened, the argument, the distance, but the silence spoke louder than anything they could have said. Jack tried again, just a little more, to fill that silence. He reached for another word in his book. "Did you know 'epiphany' means a sudden realization?"
Elsa glanced at him, her lips curving into a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Yeah, I know what it means, Jack."
He nodded, pretending the jest had worked, but the truth was, it hadn't. He couldn't put into words what was really on his mind, so he clung to these small acts, absurd questions, quiet jokes, anything to keep the tension at bay, even if just for a little while.
And for Elsa, she watched him from across the room, knowing exactly what he was doing. She almost wanted to let him get away with it, to pretend everything was fine, but it was impossible. No matter how much they tried to act like things were normal, the weight of what was unsaid remained.
The rain had grown heavy, a relentless downpour that hammered against the windows, blurring the world outside. Inside, the cottage was warm and dimly lit, the storm's sound a constant backdrop to the quiet tension that lingered in the air. Elsa and Jack sat together on the couch, not quite close, not quite distant, but somewhere in that delicate, awkward space that had settled between them.
They had decided to watch a movie, something to distract from the silence, the tension that neither of them seemed able to break. Jack had picked something lighthearted, a romantic comedy that didn't require much thought. But even as the opening credits rolled, the atmosphere remained charged with something unspoken.
Elsa tried to focus on the movie, but every time she stole a glance at Jack, the world seemed to tilt. He was sitting so close, his presence wrapping around her like the warmth of the room, but the air between them felt thick, heavy with the weight of the conversation they weren't having.
Then Jack shifted, glancing down at the book he had set aside earlier. "Hey," he said, breaking the silence. "Do you know what 'ardent' means?"
Elsa blinked, a little thrown by the sudden question. "Uh…it means passionate...intense," she said, glancing at him curiously.
Jack nodded thoughtfully, a small, almost boyish smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Right, right. Passionate." He paused, clearly searching for something else. "And, uh, 'euphoria'? What's that one?"
Elsa's lips curved into a slight smile. "It's a feeling of intense happiness, like you're on top of the world."
Jack leaned back, his eyes twinkling as if amused by the game he'd started. "Euphoria, huh? Sounds…fitting." He shifted again, this time glancing back at the screen, but his mind seemed elsewhere.
Jack was watching the screen, his eyes glazed over, but his mind was far from the movie. His thoughts kept drifting to Elsa, how close she was, how her every breath seemed to fill the room, how even in silence, she made the world feel more alive. Every glance he stole from her, every fleeting moment when their gazes would lock, felt like an electric shock. He wanted to say something, anything, to bridge the gap that had widened between them, but he couldn't.
Elsa felt it too. Her heart was racing, thumping louder than the storm outside. She could feel Jack's presence, not just beside her but within her. It was like he had become a part of the air she breathed. She told herself to focus on the screen, but every time she turned her gaze to him, she lost herself in his eyes-eyes that seemed to hold galaxies of secrets and unsaid words. The weight of it all-their history, their pain, their love-hung heavily in the space between them.
And then, as if the storm outside had finally taken over the space inside, the distance between them disappeared in a breath. Jack's hand moved almost imperceptibly, his fingers brushing against hers, barely a touch, but enough to send a spark of warmth shooting through Elsa's veins.
Her breath caught, and she turned to look at him, her heart now in her throat, the pounding rush of anticipation filling her chest. He met her gaze, his eyes dark with something that neither of them dared to name, something raw, something burning. He shifted closer, his body barely grazing hers, the heat between them rising like a fever.
For a long moment, neither of them moved.
They were trapped in a space where the world outside seemed to cease to exist, where only the rain and their racing hearts remained. Jack leaned in, slow and deliberate, as though he were afraid that if he moved too quickly, the moment would shatter.
Elsa's lips parted, her breath coming in shallow gasps as his face neared hers, his presence overwhelming. She closed her eyes, and in that instant, everything else, every doubt, every fear, every hesitation faded into the background. All that was left was him. And then, in the softest of gestures, their lips met.
The kiss was tentative at first, a soft meeting of lips, a whisper of what had been building between them for so long. It was gentle, tender, like a promise that had been waiting to be made. His lips were warm, his breath mingling with hers, and the world around them seemed to disappear. Elsa's hand found its way to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her fingers, grounding her in the moment.
But Jack pulled back suddenly, his eyes flickering as if searching for something in her expression. He let out a breath, trying to steady himself, his hand drifting from her chest to her arm, fingers brushing against her skin like a question. "Wait," he murmured, his voice barely audible, still shaky. "Do you...do you know what 'serenity' means?"
Elsa blinked, slightly startled by the question, her lips still tingling from the kiss. She murmured softly, trying to break the tension that had started to build again. "It means calm, peaceful, a sort of quiet balance."
Jack nodded, the faintest smile tugging at his lips. But his gaze never left hers, still searching, like he needed her to understand that even in moments of softness, he was afraid of losing control. He was afraid of going too far, of getting lost in the heat of the moment.
Their lips brushed once more, soft and tentative, as if testing the waters, before they kissed again, deeper this time. The kiss became more urgent, both of them feeling the weight of hours...years...of unspoken desire, of longing for something they couldn't quite grasp. His hands moved slowly, reverently, as if memorizing the feel of her skin beneath his fingertips, brushing over her arms, her sides, even the curve of her back. He cupped her face, guiding her closer, kissing her like he was afraid if he didn't, she would slip away.
Elsa responded in kind, her hands threading through his hair, feeling the softness of it, the familiar warmth of him. She kissed him with a hunger that surprised even her, feeling everything she had kept buried flood to the surface. She let him pull her closer, his body pressing against hers, and the soft heat of it consumed her. He trailed kisses down her neck, over her collarbone, his lips savoring every inch of her skin like it was the first time he had truly touched her.
His hands slid down her torso, caressing the curve of her waist, the curve of her belly, as if he were marking every part of her, memorizing it, afraid it might disappear. His touch was reverent, his fingers trembling as he moved lower, brushing against the fabric of her shirt.
Elsa's breath hitched, the intensity of the moment overwhelming her. She closed her eyes, her own tears slipping down her cheeks, but she didn't pull away. This was what she had missed, his touch, his presence, and she couldn't deny it any longer.
But then, as his hand began to slip beneath the fabric of her shirt, Jack froze, his breath catching in his throat. He pulled back abruptly, his forehead pressed to hers, his body trembling as if he were trying to fight a battle within himself. "I...I can't," he whispered hoarsely, his voice breaking. "If I do this, it'll just make it harder to leave."
Elsa's chest rose and fell rapidly as she struggled to make sense of the rush of emotions, of the vulnerability, of everything they had shared in that kiss. She reached out for him, her hands trembling, but she knew he was right. They were both too fragile, too raw, to cross that line. They both needed time to figure out what had just happened.
Slowly, she pulled away, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I...I should go to bed," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, strained with the weight of everything she wasn't saying. She couldn't stay, not after everything that had just happened. Not when the intensity between them felt too overwhelming.
Jack nodded quietly, his gaze still locked on hers. He wanted to say something, to stop her from leaving, but he couldn't. His heart felt too heavy, and his mind was clouded with conflicting emotions. "Yeah...okay," he murmured, though it didn't feel like enough.
Elsa turned and made her way to the stairs, each step carrying her further from the moment, from the kiss, from the emotions they had just unlocked. As she reached the top, she hesitated, glancing down at him one last time. Their eyes met, and in that brief moment, they both understood. The kiss had been more than a fleeting moment, it was a promise, a longing that neither of them could yet face fully.
Jack remained on the couch, the weight of everything pressing down on him. He couldn't move, couldn't think. He sat in the silence, his mind racing, knowing that no matter how much time they took to sort it out, things would never be the same between them again.
The rain continued to fall, the sound like a soft lullaby, as Elsa disappeared into her room.