[ elsa may be mortified by the sound of her own laughter but from the moment its first notes ring out in the din of the crowded restaurant, jack’s heart leaps, all at once, in his chest. a more prideful man might have found himself flustered by it, might have imagined more than a hint of mockery in its tone and drawn an instantaneous conclusion. to jack, however, it’s nothing short of music, an oft-imagined cadence drawn into reality — and by him, no less! he thinks. maybe.

for an instant, every thought of their impending meal vanishes and, despite a mild sense of bemusement, jack finds himself smiling tentatively (besottedly) alongside her, utterly enchanted. which is, really, what makes her reaction even more bewildering — at least, until he realizes how exactly this situation must appear to her. ]

Oh — no, no, don’t worry. [ briefly, he finds himself fighting the urge to reach out, to rest a soothing hand on her arm or some other such gesture. but — no, best not. he’s quite fond of his fingers, after all, and for all that elsa has been kind to him thus far, he’s much rather not breach that boundary without express permission. ] Really, I—

[ he cuts himself off, snapping his jaw shut before he can finish that sentence. i’d like to hear it again. ] … I don’t mind, I promise.

[ because he is being a little ridiculous, honestly. and who is he to turn down this kindness that elsa is offering him, now that he’s certain that he won’t wear out his welcome accepting it? he chuckles quietly as she goes on and, nearly without his notice, finds himself leaning forward slightly. ] Well — there’s a first time for everything, no? [ he quips, doing his level best to set her back at ease. it’s the least he can do, after all of this. and, offering her a soft, genuine smile: ] I’m honored.

[ and maybe that’s what makes her next remark hit him all the harder. for a moment, he finds himself distracted by the movement of her fingers, the soft shine of her hair as it catches the light from overhead. somewhere in the recesses of his mind, jack can’t help but wonder just what it might feel like beneath his own touch. like silk, maybe. softer, even.

her words don’t register at first — but when they do, jack blinks rapidly, lifting his head a touch as his lips part in muted surprise. perhaps it shouldn’t come as such a shock. after all, she’d invited him here, taken up his offer when she could have just as easily turned him away. god knows she had — has reason enough to hate him. his lies by omission had nearly cost her everything, and yet…

it’s a near-herculean effort to swallow the part of himself that fears nearly everything she offers, that begs in ragged howls for him to turn, run, flee from the prospect of letting someone in. too often has jack found himself drawn to people, desperate in his loneliness, only for his condition to force a rift between them or, worse still, actively place the other party in danger. he does his level best, of course, to keep the wolf in check but sometimes… sometimes that isn’t enough.

but elsa had survived the wolf. elsa is different — she has to be. ]

Only perhaps? [ comes jack’s teasing reply as another smile tugs gently at his lips. ] You wound me, Elsa. Should I consider this an opportunity to prove myself, then?

[ he’ll infiltrate that church So Good, just watch him. ]