Jacarandas in Her Hair
Posted on Mon Aug 25th, 2025 @ 1:36am by Lieutenant JG Jean-Baptiste Dorsainvil & Lieutenant JG Jacqueline Holder
1,327 words; about a 7 minute read
Mission:
Character Backstories
Location: Starfleet Academy Ground, San Francisco, Earth
Timeline: October 11, 2381, 2305 Hours
The sun had slipped away hours ago, worn-out like it had nothing left to give–though neither Jean-Baptiste nor Jacqueline showed any sign of slowing down. The salt and sharp cold of the Alcatraz swim still clung faintly to their skin, mixed with the greasy butter of arcade popcorn and the faraway echo of Cary Grant’s debonair demeanour flickering across a screen somewhere in The Castro. Brunch had melted into afternoon, laughter slipping between sips of hot beverages and the clatter of gaming tokens in the Mission District. Now, nearly eleven o’clock, the Academy grounds sprawled before them, quiet and foreign under the starry night.
Jean-Baptiste walked slower than he needed to. It wasn’t for effect–just to delay the inevitable geometry of the moment. Jacqueline’s dorm was coming up, each footstep drawing them toward some edge he wasn’t ready to cross.
There was nothing tactical about it. No cover to retreat to. No class to attend. Just the way her shoulder moved beside his, the sound of her laugh echoing faintly in his chest, like sunlight touching skin.
They passed under a jacaranda tree, its blossoms shedding slowly in the warm, late-spring air, and he let his eyes drift sideways. Not for long–just enough to memorize her profile in the low light. He wanted to remember this part. The quiet walk back. The way it all felt–impossible and real.
Crickets carried on in the grass. From somewhere across the quad came the clink of dishes and late night voices behind glass. But here, between them, it was mostly stillness.
He did not want to say goodnight. No. Not yet.
Didn’t want to stop listening. Or leave the orbit of her presence. Or stop reading the way she held her arms when she walked–elbows tucked in just slightly, fingers brushing her thigh now and then like some tiny punctuation.
They reached the base of the stairwell and he paused, hands sliding into his pockets–not from nerves, just to give them something to do besides reaching for her.
The light above the doorway felt out of place. Too bright to be romantic but too dim to be useful. Somewhere in between, like most things that mattered.
He exhaled slowly, through his nose, gaze drifting to the sky for a brief moment. Then he looked back at her, a small, almost imperceptible tilt of the head.
Not ready to leave. Not even close.
A few thoughts were running through Jacqueline’s mind during the walk back. San Francisco was pretty, but chilly, especially at night. She used that to distract her when then thinking about the day she’d had and how this night might end began to overwhelm her. But as her dorm grew closer, the end of the evening became inevitable.
She began to feel nervous. Would he kiss her? It wasn’t that she didn’t want him to - the thought had only crossed her mind because there had been something between them today. But she couldn’t trust herself with the feelings that came with it. She’d only ever hurt the people who had tried to get close to her, and she’d lost dear friendships by thinking she was ready to turn them into something more.
Her dorm building was visible now. She gave him a soft smile and casually took a half-step away as she tucked a few of her braided locks behind her ear. “Looks like we’re here,” she said softly. “Long day, huh?”
Long day huh? what had happened to her conversation skills. Seriously. Could she make this any more awkward.
Jean-Baptiste caught the shift–the half-step away, the tuck of hair. It was not retreat, exactly. More like a pause before a bridge. And beneath her calm, something electric and skittish, the way a sparrow’s wing might tremble before it lifts.
He felt it mirrored in himself. Not necessarily nerves–he’d faced worse, colder moments with less hesitation–but something more dangerous: the need for this to be right. For it to last longer than a night.
The words in his head stayed there, unspoken. Instead, he let his gaze find hers, and stay. Her eyes were of a brown so deep that he once again felt himself unable to escape them. The courtyard light caught a tiny reflection and for a quick second he forgot whether the Earth was round.
He lifted a hand, slow enough to give her the choice to move. A single lock of black hair had fallen forward again; he eased it back behind her ear, fingertips brushing skin that, to the touch, seemed to hold some of the day’s warmth.
For a long moment, nothing existed in that space between them.
He felt something inside him click. JB leaned in, gentle, unrushed, the sort of movement that is made when one already knows what they want and are willing to bet everything on the answer.
Jacqueline felt the energy between them shift again as she began to bring the world around her back into focus. She recognized the look on his face, and felt herself start to lean in to meet him somewhere between there and here. But, in the fraction of the second before their lips could meet, her mind swirled with a dozen thoughts. If they took this step, they couldn’t go back.
In an attempt to pretend she didn’t notice his move toward her, she shuffled her feet, and casually reached for her hair, lifting her braided locks off of her neck for a beat, and turning her head slightly in the process.
“I had a lot of fun,” she stated, giving him a sheepish grin. “Hopefully we can hang out again sometime?”
He smiled back, though not the broad kind. Just the kind that showed he’d understood. That he wasn’t going to press. Not tonight.
“Hang out again,” he echoed. “I’d like that.”
The wind moved through the jacaranda above them, blossoms drifting down in twos and threes. A few caught in her braids. He didn’t brush them away–better to leave them, better to let her keep the moment as hers.
JB rocked back half a step, hands sinking again into his pockets. He wasn’t retreating and he showed no disappointment. Just a quiet acceptance of the terms she’d laid down.
“Sleep well, Jacqueline,” he said steadily.
For a second he let his eyes hold hers–just long enough, not greedy–and then he turned, the night stretching wide and star-pinned before him.
And though his feet carried him away, the orbit he’d found himself in still pulled at him. The way gravity always seems to do.
Jacqueline felt a tinge of sadness as she watched him walk away, though she struggled to identify what specifically made her feel that way. Was it the way he looked at her before turned to leave, or was it regret over not seizing the moment of a shared kiss after an exciting day, or could it be something else. Just before he faded from view she turned, taking slow and deliberate steps toward the dorm building’s main door.
Despite trying to push past what had transpired over the last few minutes and focus on her tasks for tomorrow, her mind kept drifting back to the day, then to the moment she turned her head away. She felt embarrassed now, regret over not kissing him, wondering if there was something deeper… something she was in danger of missing.
Cadet 1st Class Jean-Baptiste Dorsainvil
Cadet
Starfleet Academy
Cadet 1st Class Jacqueline Holder
Cadet
Starfleet Academy
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