CHAPTER TWELVE: FLINCH
There is an awkward silence that overcomes you when you cross paths with the person that kisses your heart the second that you meet them. It balances on the edge of unknown but always desired.
-Carl Henegan
Stepping over Axel I open my door without knocking, not needing to because fuck Atlas this is my room, and stumble over to my desk where I finally allow myself to collapse against the wall.
Fuck.
Someone raised him right, because that little shit almost won.
"Sawyer, you whore," I cough out, kicking the corner of my bed -which I happen to know makes one bedpost under the mattress slip out. I'm right and my brother is sent tumbling to the floor, cursing loudly. "Medicine."
Atlas opens his mouth to complain, takes one look at me and stops.
We might fight and be pricks, someone more than the other, but we're family, we're brothers. We love each other. And I know that we'd both die for each other if it came down to it.
So for a moment, he puts his annoyance at me aside and gets me my anxiety medicine- -that I swallow dry; it tastes like shit- -without me even having to say what kind I wanted.
I can handle the pain.
It's not what I'm worried about.
"Let me see your stomach," Atlas huffs at me while fixing my bed, eyes narrowed as I just clench my jaw and look away from him. "Alpha."
My name is definitely a warning out of his mouth but I don't heed it.
I'm not what's important right now, my pain doesn't matter, I just need to do something, literally anything, to make Jasper not be afraid of me again.
"He had that coming, you know. The guy pisses everyone around him off."
"Fuck off."
"Alpha, come on," He crouches in front of me, making me flinch as he reaches out and helps me go from the ground to my bed. "Let me see the damage."
Crossing my arms- -thoughts dark, angry and seething with everything directed at myself and the scars on my ribs, the ones on my upper thighs, my ankles- -I glower at him, "Just get me ice. I'm fine."
My brother snorts, "Fine people don't need ice, fuck-head."
"You fight too, shit-face." I snap. "So I don't need a lecture from you."
Silently, with one last glare that doubles as a warning- -he's definitely going to check me and see how hurt I am whether I resist the effort at not, Atlas slips out of the room to get me ice.
At least I was able to stall him.
If only we were on the first floor, then I could jump out the window.
Trust me, it's still tempting.
It's not even a few seconds before the door opens again, making me scowl -I know full well how long it takes to get ice and then walk back to my room and it's definitely slower than that.
Looking up, the destructive train my dark thoughts took around my mind comes to a screeching halt as Jasper stands in the doorway, minty eyes blinking at me and a sad little pout on his lips.
Sad people shouldn't be allowed to look that fucking attractive.
"Jasp-" I cut myself off with a growl, arm moving out to the side. This time pain is brought along with it, making me groan and press a hand to my side.
Axel hits really, really hard.
I must have scared him too.
Then I see that his earbuds are still in and even from my distance, I can hear the faint sound of his music, meaning he has it up too loud to hear anything I could say.
So, out of the three things I know in sign language, I simply say "I'm sorry." the best I can with bloody knuckles.
"You k-know ASL?"
Well now I've scared and confused him.
Go me.
"And, and you d-don't have to apologize. Axel, w-well, Axel knew what he-- he fights? A lot, I-I mean."
Not really knowing what to do, the three things I know how to say are "Sorry," and "Thank you," and "Fuck you." and that's about as far as my intelligence goes.
His eyes glance at the door, wincing as he pauses to stare down the hall.
He doesn't want to be here, I think. And I don't blame him.
Taking a breath, he does something surprising and shuts the door.
He should be getting away from me, letting his family make him laugh or comforting Axel, not with me.
Jasper slowly takes one ear-bud out, cups his ear so he can't hear for a moment more before dropping his hand. "S-sorry," He glances at me. "You can, um-- I can h-hear now. You d-don't need to apologize."
Bullshit.
"No," I say, feeling the bitter taste of the medicine still on my tongue. "I do. I- -in Eden- -scared you and I just don't want-"
My shoulders tense.
And it's painful.
"-I don't want that but," I'm aware my ticing is worse than normal but I try to ignore it, to get through the conversation like I'm not some stupid spaz everyone thinks I am. "I'm just- -in Eden- -I don't, I can't-" I squeak. "I can't-"
I can't ignore the voice.
And I squeak again.
And then?
I give up.
Putting my head in my hands, I shake my head at myself.
I'm just overreacting, the ticing doesn't bother him enough for him to be mad at me, it's not the ticing he's scared of, I reason.
But he is scared of you, the voice replies. And what do you know about scared people, Spaz?
Scared people are like animals, the closer you get, the harder they lash out.
Warm hand clasp onto my cheeks, but I barely register how Jasper is holding me as my breath comes out ragged.
Sometimes it comes down between hurting myself or someone else.
And sometimes I pick myself.
And sometimes I pick others.
The worst part about that is when I pick myself I feel good after and when I pick the other person, I feel like the most selfish human alive.
I should have picked myself, I-
"Cas." Jasper's deep voice fades in over my still-raging thoughts, anchoring me to reality just a bit more through my panic. "W-we're okay, Cas."
No we're not, no. You're afraid.
"You didn't, you didn't scare me. Violence, fighting, a-anger... it triggers bad m-- bad memories. But that's not on you. I-I know you wouldn't hurt me, not even if you, if you wanted to."
How does he know that, how does he trust me, how, why, I'm not -I'm not trustworthy. If I'm handed his trust I'll just throw it without being able to stop myself. I already have.
"We're okay."
Lips gently press into the side of my head, one large hand running up and down my back to warm me up.
"You're not scary."
Then why did you flinch?
"Y-you didn't scare me."
Then why did you hide from me?
"I run away from, from people I'm scared of. L-like with Atlas, remember?" Atlas needs to leave. "But-- but I'm here with you. I'm, I'm o-okay. Can you breathe alright?"
Breathe? Right, breathe.
It's as simple as in, then out, then back in.
I gasp, hands tightening from the fists I have pressed against his chest, one of his hands over both of my own.
"There, like that."
He continues to rub my back until my breath evens out, my panic slowly dying down as my medicine begins to work -it making me very tired but it also brings my tics to a near stop.
"I'm sorry," I choke out, not daring to look up at him -just straight ahead. "I didn't know that you, that you'd get scared. I didn't -if you need your music, I can...I should stop talking. I should stop talking."
Going to sit up, pain goes through my system -telling me one of the places Axel hit the hardest is where I have the deepest scars.
Fuck.
I just end up curling further into Jasper, a hand clutching my stomach.
"Fuck me," I groan, pushing myself up a few inches until I can slowly sit up. "This sucks."
I should have knocked Axel out earlier, not get revenge. It's so much easier to knock someone out than risk getting hurt in a fight.
"Hold on, Cas, stop moving." I freeze as Jasper follows my movement with gentle hands moving on my hips. "Is your stomach actually that bad? Pendejo has heavy hands, you should really make sure he didn't bruise a rib-"
"No," I rush out, putting a hand on his chest to keep him at a distance. "No. I'm fine. There's nothing-" I growl, a hiss of pain betraying my words as my lungs painfully fill with air. "-there's nothing to check."
Minty eyes blink at me, searching my face with a confused frown. "What are you scared of Cas?"
"Shit," I curse, holding a hand over my eyes. "I forgot you could literally read me like an open book." Pausing, I glance to him, subconsciously holding my arm over my ribs. "Would you accept pomegranates as an answer?"
A serious look takes over his features making me gulp -I've never seen him so...serious before.
He trusted me enough to share when I saw his scars, even by accident.
But those scars looked years old, like he created them years ago.
Last time I relapsed was just...it was just months ago.
Of course my parents know, they always know, Circe always knows how bad I get too, it's like she can sense it, but they also know sometimes it's either do things like this or kill myself. I have better coping ways, I use those too, cooking is part of it.
But Papa knows more than anyone that people like us? Our skin was never meant to stay smooth.
He also knows that eventually, we fix ourselves too.
My last episode was after I got a lovely high school parting gift from some fuckers who loved to pick on me from everything from being gay to the way I tic to how I run.
Some scars, the deep ones, are still an angry pink.
Still getting used to being on my skin.
"I have...scars." I admit, watching as he just raises an eyebrow and pointedly glances at his own wrist. Putting my hand over his hand, I move it from my hip to hold against my heart. "Not like yours."
The musician just gets more confused, "What do you mean?"
"They're more...recent."
These scars, this darkness...they're not the only part of me that's ugly.
Right now, I'm just waiting for the day he realizes that.
"I'd never judge you, Cas." Jasper whispers, his hand gently coming up to cup my cheek against his palm.
I take a shuddering breath in, eyes closing as I just lean into the comfort.
"Scars mean that, that you went through something, or g-going through something, and survived even when you're in pain. Even... when you hurt on purpose. I know some people can't ignore that voice in their head, or argue against it."
That's what I'm worried about, I want to tell him. I know how to become a monster, how to be cruel, I listen to the bad thoughts and after it all, you'll look at me like that. You need to know when to run.
"I know that something the pain wins, but you're here and I'm here for you too, no matter what. Even if you get bad again. And I know y-you're scared too, but I need to check your ribs, okay? You're hurt. Please?"
"It's not that bad," I say, blinking at him, still contemplating if I'm willing to do this. "I know what a bruised rib feels like-" I growl. "-and this isn't it."
"Y-yeah but bruised ribs can start off feeling not too bad," Jasper's nose wrinkles, his minty eyes glancing above my head. "But then they get worse. And even, even i-if they're not bruised, I know that worse injuries can hide behind different injury's pain. Please, Cas? I... I really want to make sure it's not worse than your-- urm, y-your song is telling me?"
"I really hope that song of mine isn't a liar," I chuckle, trying to make the conversation lighter. "Is it annoying that you just, constantly, have to be worried about everyone around you?"
The musician freezes, as if never being asked that before.
Not sure if I'm just saying stupid things, I start rambling stupidly just to make sure I am, because right now I just fucking know I'm incapable of acting smart.
Or so my actions would tell me.
Because at this point I don't know if I can stop myself.
"Giving a fuck about a lot of things has always been-" I squeak. "-hard for me. I have this list in my mind, you know, and if someone or something isn't on that list I don't give a shit about it. Like, literally at all. The only exception I have to this is babies, old people and women in trouble, I mostly care about that. You're on the list, so is Vivianna. But I don't -I've never figured out if I was on the list. I'm not sure if I qualify or not. Or even what the qualifications were."
Jasper looks...bothered by this.
So I try to explain, knowing full well I'm probably making this worse.
"There's too many dark things in my mind to make me even remotely care, half the time I'm just like 'sure Jan' and just move on. But I listen to my intrusive thoughts a lot more than I realistically should, I know that. I mean, I would rather hurt myself, than kill myself or someone else. It's just..." I trail off, noticing the look in his minty eyes. "Hard sometimes...um..."
"Cas," His hand shifts on my hip, distracting me just enough that I stop talking. "I don't know who told you that, but there aren't any qualifications to loving yourself. It's not selfish or wrong or bad to love yourself. And, and those thoughts? And I have them too. I k-know it doesn't seem like it, because w-well, um, I usually don't listen? I don't think y-you've seen me angry yet, and I don't want you to. I understand."
I wish...I wish he didn't understand.
This isn't something I want him to experience.
I'd rather be alone.
"And you don't hurt anyone who doesn't deserve it, who doesn't practically ask for it like Axel does. It's not like y-your slapping women around or terrorizing people on the street."
That's at least true.
"I just-" I cut myself off, not about to say that. "Don't want- -in Eden- -to scare you again. Or trigger you."
I just love you, I was going to say.
It's not completely romantic, but he's someone who's easy to love. I have some love for Vivianna just like I have love for Noelle.
Love is easy for me, when it's not myself.
Kissing makes things complicated, emotions are easier when bodies aren't involved.
While I've had fuck buddies and crushes and potential boyfriends, I've never been in a serious relationship. I've always gotten too much for someone to handle, everything about me makes people want to sympathize.
I don't need sympathy.
What I need is love.
In whatever way they're willing to give it.
Friends are easier to love, easier to make, than boyfriends but they're also harder to lose. But then again, I've never really had a lot of friends either, just Noelle.
"You won't." Jasper says definitively and I find it a bit amusing that the man who can read everyone doesn't know the thoughts in my mind. "Can I help you now?"
Nodding, I stand and he helps me peel my tank top off, frowning as he sees the bruises but not reacting to the scars -which I know he's doing on purpose.
Still sitting on the bed, Jasper leans into me and gently runs his fingers along my abdomen, making me tense even though I know all he's doing is checking the bruises.
"Anywhere else?" The musician asks. I shake my head, trying to get out of my thoughts but all that I can think when I look at him is I love him already as a friend, a person and a partner. "Um...what are you f-feeling right now?"
Hah, definitely not that I want to either hug you or kiss you until you can't breathe again because of how unfairly you made me love you this early into knowing you.
To distract myself, I just grumble, "Your hands are warmer than I thought they'd be."
"No, I um, meant..." Jasper points somewhere above my head. "Up there? There's a color that's confusing me. I'm usually good about knowing what they mean."
Thank fuck for this oblivious dork being who he is.
Because there's no way I'm telling him that.
"Not to be rude," Mumbling, I grab his sweatshirt strings to play with. "But I'm not telling you."
Without looking up, I know he's pouting.
Sighing as he finally stops checking me and seems satisfied with his conclusion, I step up until my legs hit the side of the bed to hug him properly.
I like his hugs.
"There's blood on your tank top," The musician tells me, arms molding me perfectly against his chest. "Do you want my sweater?"
Grinning I pull away, "Please."
Without hesitation, Jasper drops his hold from me and shrugs the sweatshirt off -showing off his dimples as he holds it out to me. "Here!"
"You're oblivious." I tell him. Waiting to put the sweater on, I lean down and kiss him gently -slowly enough for him to pull away if he doesn't want it. Running a hand through his hair, I make the once decent curls messy how I've come to like it. "Never change."
Jasper just chuckles lightly, the sound as close to a giggle as his deep voice can go, and he smiles wider.
I might not be able to love myself the right way but at least I know how to properly love someone else.