Here’s part three (finally), the part most inspired by the song ‘Kiss Me’ by Ed Sheeran
Part One, Part Two
Jack sat, elbows resting on knees, chin in hands, contemplating. He’d been quiet for the best part of an hour. He was sat in the makeup tent, by that point completely ready for the day’s filming, but still motionless. True, he had to wait for Barry, Cillian and Mark – Tom was also already finished – but his familiar energy and drive was absent. His earlier pacing, and clear distemper, had caused a sombre aura to settle over everyone. Where folk were usually chatty and excited for the day ahead, they whispered in hushed tones and stole curious glances at the blonde pilot.
After such a long period of quiet, his voice rang out harshly.
“I cannae deal with this anymore, is she just no’ interested in me?”
Without a moment’s hesitation, knowing exactly what he was talking about, Tom piped up, “Of course she is, have you not seen the way she looks at you?”
He stood, and almost resumed his pacing, but appeared to think better of it, instead opting to gesture wildly as he said, “I have, and I get to thinking that we might be going somewhere, but she then won’t give me the time of day!”
“Just give her time mate, you’ve not even known her a month,” Cillian offered.
“She’s frightened of getting hurt,” Mark said knowingly.
“I’m no’ gonna hurt her!”
“Yeah, but she doesn’t know that,” Tom interjected.
“But how am I supposed to prove it to her when she won’t give me a chance?”
He fell into his seat again, defeated.
As Mark’s makeup was finished he rose, thanking Vivienne along the way, and went to place a consoling hand on Jack’s shoulder.
“Be patient, she’s almost there.”
“I’m no’ a very patient man.”
“No,” Mark chuckled, “No I didn’t think so.”
You weren’t on set so Jack didn’t see you all day. He wanted to be patient, to heed Mark’s advice, but he was so desperate to watch you fall in love with him. He wanted to hold you, your head on his chest, his lips on your neck. He wanted to be your everything, to love you and protect you and make you happy. He wanted to rise beside you, kiss the sleep from your eyes and wake you up to the morning. He wanted to caress your skin, to feel and explore and understand every inch of your body. He wanted you, that much was clear. He knew you wanted him too, he felt it in his bones, but couldn’t understand what made you so reluctant. If you were afraid, he would hold you so tight that all your broken pieces would fit back together and you would understand that he wanted to ensure you would never feel hurt, never need to be scared, ever again. If you just gave him a chance he knew you would understand.
“Are you alright Jack?” a voice pulled him from his reverie. He turned to see Emma, smiling in concern. “You’ve been rather distant today.”
“Is Y/N around?” he said.
“She’s spending the day on shore, doing admin. Chris thought she was getting a bit worn down, she’s been very busy, so we thought she best have a bit of a break from everyone. She gets very aggravated if she spends too much time around people, needs to get away every now and again,” Emma calmly explained.
He nodded numbly, knowing as much was true but still wishing you were there, even if it was just so that he could gaze at you. He had spent a fair deal more time than he cared to admit just looking at you; the way your eyes observed, absorbing and understanding but not judging, the way your hair fell across your face and you would tuck it away in staccato irritation, the way your lips curled when you smiled, or your tongue always wet your lips before you made a joke, or how you seemed to sparkle, radiant and illuminating your universe. That’s how he saw you, as the star around which everything else seemed to orbit, and he was a lowly planted somewhere in your periphery – the Pluto to your Sun, if you will. He wanted to change that.
He’d forgotten Emma was still there until she said, “I think Chris is going to talk to her later, shall I give him a message for you?”
He shook his head, “No, that’s fine. I’ll see her later.” He hoped.
---
“Flights are booked for Holland, and I’ve sorted accommodation in a town near
Ijsselmeer Lake. Everything on the list is sorted, so I’ve had rather a fruitful day.” You were sat in your room, papers strewn about you in organised chaos, and your laptop still with dozens of tabs open. Chris had come to see you after filming to check up on your progress.
“Excellent, thanks for doing all that.”
You inclined your head and set to sorting the papers out.
“Listen Y/N”, Chris said, shuffling a little further onto the bed from where he was perched, “I actually wanted to have a chat with you.”
You looked up, confusion on your face at the concern in his voice.
“Okay, what’s up?”
“That’s actually much the question I was going to ask you. Are you alright? You’ve been a bit moody lately. I thought you were excited about being on a film set.”
You sighed, your fears of letting Chris down already seemingly coming to fruition. “I am, of course I am. I’m thrilled to be here and you know how grateful I am for the opportunity, and the trust you’ve placed in me. You didn’t have to give me all the responsibility that you have.”
“But…?” Chris asked with eyebrows raised.
“I’ve just had some personal issues lately. It’s nothing serious, I’ll get over it.”
“Fancy talking to me about it?”
“Oh, you’ve got far too much going on to be fussing about me,” you chuckled, the sound laced with melancholy.
“You’ve never found that an issue before. I recall you calling me in a flap about your future when you were about seventeen and deciding whether or not to go to uni. I was filming Inception at the time. One day you rang me in my lunch break and kept me on the phone for an hour! We finished late that day.”
You smiled sheepishly, both gleeful and guilty at the memory. “Sorry about that.”
“Don’t be, it was a pleasure to talk to you. You actually offered me some welcome perspective on my own life. But anyway,” he said, taking your hands in his, “What are these personal issues?”
He looked at you resolutely, forcing you to meet his gaze. You huffed, defeated.
“I think I’m falling in love. Well… if it’s not love it’s the biggest crush I’ve had in my life. It’s miserable.”
Chris laughed aloud, “Oh good, I thought it would be worse.”
“Good?! How is that good?”
“Being in love is great! I’ve been in love for twenty years and they’ve been the best of my life.”
“That’s almost half your life,” you rolled your eyes.
“The better half,” he smiled. “So you’ve fallen for Jack-”
“I never said it was Jack.”
“It’s obviously Jack. Everyone’s noticed, I just didn’t realise that’s what was getting you down.”
“Fantastic,” you muttered sarcastically.
“So what are you going to do about it?”
You got up to put your papers away in a folder, and took the opportunity to escape from Chris’ dominant gaze for a moment. Resting your hands on the desk and letting your head droop, you sighed, “Nothing. Get over it, I suppose.”
“Wrong answer, Y/N. You’re going to tell him how you feel.”
You turned back to face him, confused. “Is that allowed?”
“What do you mean, ‘allowed’? Of course it is!”
“But he’s a colleague. I didn’t think you’d be okay with us dating.”
Chris looked down momentarily, appearing to compose his thoughts. “While we’re filming I represent two different roles in your life, and I want different things from you. As your director, I want you to do your job to the best of your ability, to be focused and dedicated, to enhance the film and your own skills. But I’m still your godfather, and as such I act as a stand-in father to you, or a second father. In that capacity I want to you to be happy and fulfilled. I want you to find love, and personal satisfaction, and I will offer what wisdom I have to help you do that. As your godfather, I’d tell you to go for it with Jack, because I see how much you care about him, how compatible you are, and honestly I couldn’t have asked for a more loving or gentlemanly young man for you. As your director, I can’t hold you back from him. As long as you promise to stay focused, then what possible reason could I give to stop two young people from being together. In all honestly, you would probably perform better if you were happy, and he can make you happy.”
His speech knocked the wind out of you a little, and you sought the bed again for support. You couldn’t quite fathom that you could actually be with Jack.
“I guess what I’m saying,” Chris continued, “Is that you have my blessing.”
You exhaled with a stifled laugh, incredulous. After so long convincing yourself that, no matter how much you wanted it, you couldn’t have a future with Jack, to hear that in actual fact you could was quite the shock. You would need to compose yourself before heeding Chris’s advice.
Soon after, Chris gave you a hug and left you to your thoughts. Your mind seemed to be swirling, imagining your life with Jack, imagining the way it would feel to finally kiss him, imagining what it would be like to finally know how his lips feel. You pondered how to tell him and what to say. Would it just freak him out if you told him you loved him? You weren’t entirely sure that you did, so decided to refrain, but you knew you were damn close to being in love. You drifted through the rest of the evening, and ate dinner alone in your room. Whatever excitement you felt soon soured into nerves. You couldn’t help but wonder if you had imagine his advances, or if they were all a joke, just bit of fun. What if he didn’t actually like you, and it was all some elaborate practical joke? If, for any reason, he rejected you, you didn’t think you’d be able to face him in the morning. Nevertheless, you put on a sundress and brushed your hair, and went to find Jack.
You stood outside his hotel room, breathing heavily. Your chest rattled with each inhale and it was all you could do to pray he couldn’t hear your heart thumping in your chest. Though you hear the distinct sound of a shower, when the water was turned off and there was silence from inside you were sure that the relentless drumming would carry through the door. You clenched and unclenched your fists, and noticed how sweaty your palms were, so wiped them down the sides of your skirt. Before you could summon the courage to knock, Tom GC emerged in the corridor. He caught your eye and shot you a smile.
“I was just about to knock on Jack’s door, we’re congregating in Barry’s room if you want to join.”
You nodded softly, and spoke barely above a whisper for fear your voice would crack. “I just need to talk to him first.”
Tom noticed your apprehension and squinted at you quizzically. “Talk to him?”
Nodding again, you said, “Well, more tell him something I suppose.”
He simply smiled and continued down the corridor towards Barry’s room. Just before he disappeared around a corner, he called “Let us know how it goes.”
Out of nowhere, a wave of determination swept over you and, keen to make the most of it, you nocked firmly on the door before you could change your mind. You heard shuffling from inside and after a moment the door opened to reveal Jack, hair wet and hanging in his eyes, with only a towel wrapped low around his hips.
“Oh Y/N, I wasn’t expecting it to be you. Ye alright?”
You barely heard his question as your eyes were fixed on his naked chest. Muscular, without being ripped, he stood without self-consciousness, or anxiety. A few desperate droplets clung to his skin, and ran lazily down his chest; you wished you could replace them with your fingers.
“Umm yeah,” you mused, and ripped your gaze away to meet his eyes. You saw surprise and amusement in them. “Could I talk to you for a second?”
“Aye, come in. I’ll just get some clothes on.”
You went in and sat on the bed, trying not to stare as he went about the room, collecting clothes. He disappeared into the bathroom, and reappeared a moment later in dark jeans and a navy t-shirt that was far too tight for your liking – distractingly tight. He towel-dried his hair, leaving it in a fluffy mess, before discarding the towel on a chair.
“So what did ye want to talk to me about? Something about tomorrow’s schedule?”
“No. Actually it’s something a little more personal.”
He bobbed his head in acceptance and sat down beside you. Silence filled the room as you searched for the words to begin telling him how you felt, and they continued to elude you.
“I missed you today,” he said after a while. Your teeth tugged at your bottom lip. “It was weird not having you there.”
Unable to withstand the proximity to him, you stood and went to the window.
“Listen Jack, I know we’ve gotten close over the last few weeks. You’ve been my best friend here, and made this whole experience so much easier. You mean a great deal to me. I haven’t been blind to your advances,” you murmured, turning to face him. You saw his head hanging, his eyes closed in what appeared to be anguish. You wanted desperately to kneel in front of him, to cradle his head in your hands and kiss his sadness away. Instead, you gathered yourself and kept going.
“I was scared of getting my heart broken. I thought you might be trying to get to Chris through me. I know it sounds dumb but it wouldn’t be the first time that has happened. At uni, as soon as people found out I was Christopher Nolan’s goddaughter I suddenly had a lot of people trying to be my friend. One guy went as far as dating me for three months. I fell for him, hard, but when it became clear that I wasn’t going to exploit my relationship with Chris for him, he dropped me like a hot potato. I was crushed. Now I’m terrified of getting hurt again.”
Jack rose to his feet and stood before you, all 6ft of him looking strong, and gentle and gorgeous. “I’m no’ gonna do that, I promise. I could never do that to ye.”
You took a shaky breath and continued, “And then I thought we couldn’t be together
because we have a job to do, and it would get in the way. I didn’t want to jeopardise the shoot, or our relationship. But Chris is of the opinion that such wouldn’t be the case-”
“You spoke Chris about it?”
You nodded.
“What did he say?”
“He told me to go for it.”
A smile spread across his face and he exhaled in a rattling laugh. “And... and what do you think?”
He’d asked the decisive question, but you felt no need to answer it.
You started at his lips unashamedly. You noticed the shape of them, their eternal plumpness, their gentle pink hue. You felt the urge to touch them bubble first in your chest, then slip down into your fingers. You watched as your hand moved up to his shoulder, unaware that you had instructed it to do so, tracing along his neck and then his jaw. You cupped his face in your small hand, before allowing your thumb to brush his bottom lip. It was soft, if dry, and warm to the touch. You noticed the ridges, each dip and bump. You head was cocked a little and your brows were furrowed ever so slightly as you studied them, more out of curiosity, just wanting to know them, than anything else. You skimmed the top lip as well. His chest rose and fell heavily with laboured breathing. You felt his breath on your fingers, hot and moist and laden with desire. Your thumb came to rest at the corner of his mouth. You saw the smile pull at his lips, stretching them taught and making dimples appear to either side. You moved your hand and let your forefinger grace the depression in his cheek. You lifted your eyes to meet his, and saw his hunger in dilated pupils.
That fire that had been crackling inside you, slowly building over weeks, each joke, each glance adding fuel, instantly turned to raw, burning pain, like a dagger had been thrust into your stomach – a rush, a lust so strong it appeared to drive you backwards. You fought the urge to run, to scream and cry and leave him behind. You fought the urge to crash yourself into him, to rip at his skin with your nails and at his lips with your teeth. You stayed perfectly still, feeling the blood pulsing through your fingertips still resting on his face. His focus jumped from your eyes to your lips, and his head dipped towards yours. Your eyes closed, your breath hitched in your throat, and you waited for his lips to finally meet yours.
