The Surrender

Jax stood completely frozen, staring down at the beautiful, stubborn woman standing in her shadowy living room. The heavy, exhausting armor she had worn every single day since the collapse suddenly felt too heavy to hold up anymore. She was so tired of being tough. She was so tired of being alone.

A single, rogue tear broke free, tracking hot and fast down her cheek, disappearing into the collar of her shirt.

Sam lifted a hand, her warm fingers brushing away the moisture before a second tear could follow. The touch was so tender, so completely devoid of hesitation, that it broke the emotional dam wide open.

Jax let out a shuddering breath, her shoulders dropping as the tension finally, truly bled out of her frame. "I don't want you to leave," she whispered, the admission costing her every ounce of her remaining pride. "Please. Stay."

A beautifully warm, relieved smile broke across Sam’s face, reaching all the way up to her dark eyes. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

Without overthinking it, without calculating the risks or analyzing the escape routes, Jax reached out. She brought her hands up to gently cup Sam’s face. Sam leaned into the touch immediately, her hands coming up to grip Jax's wrists, anchoring her there.

Jax leaned down, closing the remaining distance between them. The kiss started out hesitant, a fragile question asked in the quiet of the apartment. But the moment their lips met, a profound, sweeping warmth rushed through Jax’s chest. Sam kissed her back with a soft, confident pressure, a silent promise that she wasn't frightened of Jax's edges or her shadows.

Jax wrapped her arms around Sam's waist, pulling her flush against her body, burying her face in the crook of Sam’s neck. She inhaled the scent of vanilla and clean laundry, letting it overwrite the phantom smells of smoke and ruin.

They moved to the couch, sitting closely together in the dim light. Sam draped a soft throw blanket over Jax’s shoulders, pulling her into her side. Jax rested her head on Sam’s shoulder, listening to the steady, rhythmic beating of Sam’s heart.

For the first time in three years, the hyper-vigilance in Jax’s mind went entirely quiet. She realized, as Sam's fingers gently combed through her short hair, that she didn't need to be invincible to be worthy of love. Dropping her shield and letting someone else stand guard, even for just one night, wasn't a failure. It was the bravest, most kickass thing she had ever done.