Running with the Rouge

(a couple weeks later btw)

The room felt quieter than usual, even though Jack's presence filled it like it always did. The faint morning light cast soft shadows across the walls, and for a moment, the world outside felt far away.

Jack sat by the table, his hand idly tracing the edge of the sack of gold. His expression was distant, his usual smirk replaced by something softer. You couldn't help but notice the way the light caught the edges of his face—the sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his lips.

"You're thinking too hard," you said, breaking the silence.

He glanced up at you, his lips quirking into a small smile. "Am I?"

"You always get that look when you're plotting something," you teased, sitting down across from him. "Or when you're hiding something."

Jack chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Maybe I'm just enjoying the quiet for once. Doesn't happen often."

You tilted your head, studying him. "You don't strike me as the kind of person who enjoys quiet."

"Maybe not," he admitted, his voice softer now. "But I like it when I'm with you."

The words caught you off guard, and you felt heat rise to your cheeks. Jack didn't usually talk like this. He was all charm and bravado, quick with a joke or a clever remark. But now? Now he looked at you like you were the only thing in the room that mattered.

"Jack..." you started, but he cut you off with a wave of his hand.

"Let me say it," he said, his voice steady. "I know I'm not exactly... good at this. Saying what I mean, I mean. But I'm trying, alright?"

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest.

"I've been on my own for a long time," he continued, his gaze dropping to the table. "Even when I was with Fagin's gang, it wasn't the same. Everyone looks out for themselves, you know? But you... you're different."

Your breath caught as he looked up, his eyes locking with yours. There was no mask, no bravado—just Jack, raw and unguarded.

"You make me want something I didn't think I could have," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Something more than just surviving."

You didn't know what to say. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, and all you could do was reach out, your hand resting gently on his.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence was full, charged with something unspoken but deeply felt.

"Jack," you said finally, your voice trembling. "I—"

But before you could finish, he leaned forward, his hand slipping into yours as his lips met yours. The kiss was tentative at first, like he was testing the waters, but it quickly deepened, his other hand coming up to cup your cheek.

The world seemed to melt away. There was no gold, no danger, no past or future—just Jack, his warmth, his presence.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath mingling with your own.

"Sorry," he said, though there was a smile in his voice. "I couldn't wait any longer."

You laughed softly, your hand still tangled with his. "Don't be."

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his grin returning in full force. "Good. Because I plan on doing that again."

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't stop the smile that spread across your face. "You're impossible."

"And you love it," he teased, leaning in to steal another kiss.

This time, you didn't hesitate.

For the first time in what felt like forever, everything felt right. And for the first time, you allowed yourself to hope that maybe, just maybe, things could stay that way.