No deal

[st_artandstoke]

Jag twirled a flame between his fingers as he stalked through the hotel corridor to the suite he shared with Emma. He should've known better than to expect much from the bloody Fae, but he'd had to get out of this place if he could, and once he was out there, he'd had to hear out that offer of a deal, no matter how he felt about the Fae. He fucking hated how much he'd hoped, too, for a few precious seconds. He still felt whiplash from that rollercoaster of emotions, and he didn't know what to do with himself.

So he was headed back to his room to roll up a joint, and he'd smoke it by the fireplace. It wasn't long before he was lying on his back in the common room, smoking up, a fire crackling wood beside him, and fuck if it was summer. In a flimsy tank top and a pair of swim shorts, he'd survive. He was used to being too hot in summer anyway.

He was never giving up his fire.

Comments

[st_artandstoke]

Jag leaned sideways against her, then gave in and turned to wrap himself around her more. With that brief flare of hope and the impossible choice that he'd been offered, he couldn't help but close his eyes and imagine that it was his Emma holding him. He craved the simplicity of her embrace, rather than the complications tangled in his friendship with this one.

[st_ackeddeck]

Emma held him, her thoughts mirroring his without her knowing. She didn't say anything; words wouldn't help here, not as much as simply being there. She sat there, curled around him, and made a decision.

If it was in her power to get Jag home, she would do it. Herself too, if possible, but definitely him, even though losing him would hurt, especially if she remained stuck at the inn.