poison ivy - the boys

nine

         Her eyes blinked tiredly as she walked through the suite but she began to smile as she saw the daily occurrence that laid on the kitchen counter. She picked up the flower and brought it to her nose, inhaling the aroma.

It was a rose.

Every day, John had a rose delivered so that's what she'd be greeted with in the morning. It never failed to make her smile and her chest warmed at the thought put into it.

             She put the rose into the vase filled with the other ones as Maeve walked into the kitchen, making coffee, as she noted, "Another one?"

                Jane couldn't help the blush that coated her cheeks as she looked at Maeve, "He's just being..nice."

                "Huh huh," Maeve shook her head. "Nice."

Currently, she was staying with Maeve since her house was blown to smithereens. She didn't want to stay with John and escalate things...yet.

               The night replayed in her mind all the time and puzzled John to no end.

"Are you sure you're okay? There's not some mark or pain you're hiding away from me, is there?" John worried for millionth time only days after the explosion.

She remembered the explosion happening in almost slow motion. The blast rose up and around her but never really touched her. It was like it was a blanket that made her safe and protected.

But she felt a draining of her energy as it happened and she fell unconscious. She woke up to John above her, worrying, and looking for scratches but there were none. And her clothes weren't burnt this time.

"I'm okay, John. There's no secret pain," she smiled assuredly as she sat next to him on the couch in his suite, drawing patterns on his shoulder.

"It doesn't make any sense; it should've at least hurt you, Jane," he said with a puzzled look on his face. "Aren't you the least bit curious?"

"Well, I could make it a dilemma or I could enjoy being held in your arms," she smiled as she knew that would shut him up about it. She was curious but what she didn't know wouldn't kill her.

He sighed and pulled her onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her as she snuggled into him. (It was a thing that they had started doing; just being in each other's embrace). She smiled contentedly and swore she could've stayed in his arms forever; safe and loved.

                   It was now about a month after the incident and unless it was one of their rare moments, he never once touched her like he was afraid she'd freak out or something. (And he was scared as he didn't want her to push him away again).

           Actually, now that she thought about it, he kept about a three foot distance between them at all costs. He actually gave her the space that she had asked for.

             But by having that space, she realized how much she missed his small touches. How he'd run his fingers up her spine sometimes or draw circles into the small of her back or how he'd play with her fingers absentmindedly. But she never told him she missed it.