Jane Eyre

  I wrote this piece after watching the new Jane Eyre film. It's a fantastic film, by the way. Anyway, it inspired me and I wrote this. It's supposed to be the scene just after Jane discovers the fire in Mr Rochester's room and they put it out. Mr Rochester tells Jane to wait in his room and leaves.

 

  She waited in that room, the air thick with cold smoke that caught in her throat as she breathed. His heavy coat round her shoulders, she sat on a chair near the ampty hearth. The coat smelled of him.

  For more than an hour she sat there, back straight, shivering, in case he should return at any moment. Eventually, though, fatigue overtook her and she pulled the coat up to her chin, leaning back a little in the chair. She told herself she would hear him coming and compose herself quickly.

  As time passed, she fell asleep, thoughts of propriety lost to dreams.

  Mr Rochester entered his room. She was asleep in his chair, her head to one side, her serene expression very different from the guarded one that usually commanded her features. As though sensing his presence she stirred and in that moment between sleep and wake a flicker of warmth seemed to pass through her eyes when she saw him. Then she sat up quickly, composing herself.

  "You will speak of this to noone, Jane. D'you understand?" He said.

  She nodded and stood up.

  "Goodnight Sir," She made to leave the room. He caught her arm as she tried to pass him and held it by the wrist.

  "You would leave me, after what has passed here tonight?," he sounded sad. "Jane, you saved my life."

  The heat from his hand on her arm seemed to spread through her body like fire. His face was so close to hers, she could feel his breath on her cheeks.

  "I...Sir, I did what anyone would."

  "Jane, death by fire is a terrible way to leave this world."

  "I am glad then, Sir, that it was avoided," her heart was beating so fast she was sure he must hear it.

  His face was so close to hers, his eyes piercing hers....

  Suddenly she remembered where she was, who she was.

 "Goodnight Sir," her voice was barely a whisper.
  She fled.