Jo Harvelle (knivesandreo) wrote in parabolical, @ 2008-08-29 16:20:00 |
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Entry tags: | jo harvelle |
Who: Jo Harvelle
When: Backdated, morning after this
Where: Sam&Dean's motel room
Rating: A for angst?
Status: Complete
The first thing that alerted Jo that she was not in her own motel room as she woke slowly from her sleep was the colour of the bed across from her. It was entirely the wrong shade and then the slow realization that there was something, no, someone beside her, an arm thrown haphazardly over her body, her leg tangled in one that was her not her own. Dean. There was a dull throb between her eyes, made even worse by the early morning light shinning in through the window. But for the moment it was the least of her thoughts. She let out a slow breath, trying to sort through the fuzzy moments that had made up her night until she got to the point where it ended with her waking up in the same bed as Dean. Because you thought it was a good idea last night, she reminded herself.
Suddenly though it seemed like less of a good idea and more of the things she promised herself she wouldn't do. She'd already had her heart broken once by him, she swore she wasn't going to let that happen again. It would be so easy though to just close her eyes again, forget the world existed and just be there. Too easy. She couldn't remember the last time she had actually slept that well and if she was honest with herself, really and truly honest and not just the half truths and lies she told herself and passed off as truth, she knew that had less to do with the alcohol and a lot to do with feeling safe and warm for once in a long time. Jo bit her lower lip, staring up at the ceiling and weighing her options, listening to the steady breathing beside her. She could just give in, shut her eyes again and stay there. But the thought of what could happen when Dean woke up, the idea of rejection spread through her and she knew she couldn't handle that.
Carefully she pulled herself away, finding her boots where she had discarded them the night before. She pulled them on and picked up the cards that had been scattered around from their card game. She tossed the cards back into the drawer they had come from and took their glasses and bottle to the kitchen, setting them beside the sink. She gripped the edge of the counter for a moment, her eyes staring down at the counter. Bits of the night ran through her mind, still hazy and slightly out of order. She could remember his head against her leg that stupid grin that made it hard to remember why she was avoiding her feelings in the first place, and the mystery surrounding what she wasn't to be told, that which she was safer not knowing. It was driving her nuts. She could only imagine they knew something she didn't, knew that something was coming. It frustrated her to no end, if something was coming she deserved to know. She wasn't just some helpless kid, not anymore. She could do something, she had to do something.
Jo blinked a few times, trying to clear the blurry edges of her vision and moved away from the counter. She took a piece of paper from a notebook by their laptop and scrawled a note for Dean on it, setting it by him for when he woke up. She found her keys and left the motel room.
I so won.