[ It's such a simple answer, isn't it? Yet easier said than done, as the saying went, and she meets his eyes with more warmth and appreciation than he likely expects— when it all boils down, there's no denying that she's just glad he's alive. And that he's here, with her, and that she finally knows. The rest can wait. The ire, certainly there yet impotent, can wait.
It goes to follow that it's far easier to wrap her arms about him and try not to squeeze too tight rather than talk about it, and Jack doesn't even try to pry her off. When he moves to reciprocate, even uncertainly, her nose is in his hair and those are definitely tears splashing on his shoulder and rolling down to her sleeve, and her weight lowers to his lap as she grips him a little tighter, nudges a little closer.
Even tentative, his hands are warm where they rest against her and whatever he gives her is plenty. He's not pushing her away.
Her voice is too soft and muffled this close, but whatever she murmurs is something along the lines of "you're here". ]
no subject
It goes to follow that it's far easier to wrap her arms about him and try not to squeeze too tight rather than talk about it, and Jack doesn't even try to pry her off. When he moves to reciprocate, even uncertainly, her nose is in his hair and those are definitely tears splashing on his shoulder and rolling down to her sleeve, and her weight lowers to his lap as she grips him a little tighter, nudges a little closer.
Even tentative, his hands are warm where they rest against her and whatever he gives her is plenty. He's not pushing her away.
Her voice is too soft and muffled this close, but whatever she murmurs is something along the lines of "you're here". ]