Dragons See Dragonflies - J.H

Eleven.

To feel anything deranges you. To be seen feeling anything strips you naked.

Over the next few weeks, Ethan and I spoke about everything we possibly could've. He told me about Nevada and how he and his Mom used to go to a lakehouse every summer. There were mountains and he used to hike up them with his dog.
He spoke about his father, how he left when he was 7 because his Mom had gotten 'too into Church'. Ethan didn't remember much about it, but he never saw his Dad again.
I felt bad then, partially because I wanted to know how his Mother's beliefs impacted him but also because he should have two parental figures in his life.
I learned that he couldn't go to his mother for emotional support so using art as an output helped him massively. She wouldn't take him to therapy, she didn't believe in it, ironic since she suggested I see a doctor for anxiety.
It inspired him to Graffiti, he claimed to like the rush of knowing he was doing something illegal, it made me laugh. It seemed a little crazy, but it matched his personality well.
I was overjoyed at all of the new information I was learning about him, I liked how that allowed me to research or come to new understandings of the boy who's soul was bound to mine.

I wanted to impress him, to find something that I had in common with him, I wanted him to look at me the way I looked at him.
Absolute awe.
He told me where he went to church, what times he went and what he did after school most days. Usually he graffitied in town but he enjoyed being at home too, relaxing in his bed like any normal human.
In return, I told him the lie we all followed in my family, the adoption, my fake birth parents and how they weren't the best to me. A frown so deep fell on his features, it made me want to eat my words.
He had put his hand on my shoulder, a form of comfort that I didn't need, but I took it because it was a touch that came from him. I needed more of it, I was addicted. He was the only thing I was addicted to.
I told him I wrote things from my childhood, a white lie, since I considered my childhood my human life because of how naïve I was. I explained how I had a guitar collecting dust in the corner of my room but that I could play it very well, just chose not to. I told him how I went shopping with my sisters because they liked having a male opinion that wasn't their boyfriend or soon-to-be.

Ethan seemed drawn in by my words, he would look at me, completely enthralled by what I was saying. I admit openly that I felt the same way when he spoke.
It was amazing to see that much focus pointed at me. Someone cared that much to pay attention to me. My mind buzzed with the possibilities.
I wanted to ask him, to bring it up in a conversation, to know if he had ever had a girlfriend or preffered men. I wanted to know so I didn't set my hopes too high, but it was just never the right time. I certainly didn't want to bring it up and let him think it was because I wanted to be with him. I did, but he couldn't know that just yet.
We had grown in our friendship considerably, I was happy about our progress and how comfortable I was beginning to feel around him.
His habit of smoking almost clogged the scent of his blood but I made sure to be well fed before ever interaction alone with him. Better to be safe then sorry.
We didn't sit together at lunch, but I still caught his eyes when I was pretending to eat. I was smug, almost proud when he rejected every flirtatious touch from Bella Swan.
He would speak to Joseph and I had heard him multiple times speaking about me. I had to clench my jaw and slap on my poker face to make out it didn't bother me as much as it actually did.

"Jasper's my bestest of friends," He grinned, his teeth bared and his head thrown back at the stupidity and childish nature of his words.
What I had loved even more was the way Joseph had reacted.
He shot me a glare when Ethan had looked away from him. I hid a grin behind my fist which I leant on and pretended to gaze out the window.

"You're smitten," Edward commented, picking up his carrot sticks and breaking them in half.
I rose an eyebrow.
Like you're not.
We both knew who I was inferring to, he only proved my thought with the small smile that came to his mouth after.