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Summary
She sees a flicker of fire settle into his eyes, and then the lights flash, washing the dancefloor in a strange violet-blue hue that catches against the silver threaded through his hair. It makes every grey curl momentarily shine, and Samira's chest aches with the sudden, awful realisation that she wishes so desperately it were his curls tangled beneath her fingers, that it were his hair she was clawing at, his mouth she was kissing, his body she was pressed against instead of Arun's. And she hopes that somewhere beneath the anger and the sadness and all those months of pretending, Jack is wanting the same thing.
samira and jack are dating other people. but when they meet at a bar after months, they rekindle their relationship. in more ways than one.
