Re: Disembarking: Jack/Heath
It wasn't the face. All right, maybe it was a little bit the face but it was the body language more than anything else. You could tell the kids who were barely kids so much as wizened looking adults run backwards like a terrible fairy-tale because experience looked out of their faces and curled an eyebrow at the suggestion of being young. The kid - Heath, and Jack suspended the desire to ask if it was after Heathcliff, because anyone further than wild and wuthering than the blonde youth with a total inability to grow fuzz on his chin was near impossible - looked young in a way Jack did not when he looked at himself in the mirror.
"If you've just been blindsided by Repose's ability to put on a show, being able to do more than gibber quietly in a corner is a big deal," Jack said, shrugging with the kind of easy-handled smile that forgave a lack of social niceties. He didn't much give a shite for social niceties. "Your sister is on her way? That's maybe an hour. A little less, if she's the kind to run past the speed limit." He didn't sound sorry, just matter of fact.
Jack started to walk. Long strides, that heated up the blood in circulation and coaxed the blood that wasn't out of his marrow and started to make it think about doing the same. "What, you mean encourage people to stalk you?" Jack wasn't hugely in favor of surveillance systems for phones, and he liked the idea of proactively engaging in it even less. "No thanks. That sounds maddening. Particularly if you might want to evade your mother just a little."