Jazz Red's Anomaly

c h a p t e r. 16

"Scared?" He questions. "Why would you be... Did..."

"I had these f-friends in high school," Jazz doesn't look at him. He can't. He can't risk seeing the look in his eyes, the change in his song, when the star finds out he's dirty. Weak. Finds out he's used. "They weren't good people. Th-they were, they were angry. They were angry a lot, Castor." His voice sounds too small for how large of a feeling is burning through his chest. "I thought that, um, that getting put down, getting called crazy when I mentioned something I clearly remember happened-- t-they liked to, they liked to t-tell me that I was crazy. Forgetful. And, and I am b-but... things happened. And then they would pretend that it didn't. They made me t-think I was going insane for, for a while, actually."

Realizing that didn't quite explain his aversion to unfamiliar touch, Jazz winced and rings his hands together in front of him, "And they introduced me to this g-guy. An old friend of there's. I knew, well, I-I knew he wasn't my butterfly. I only have one-- and, and that's you, but I didn't know that back then a-and I just wanted experience, you know?"

Cas didn't respond, but the musician didn't expect him too.

"K-Ke-Keres was p-pushy," Jazz admitted, stumbling over his ex's name, covering his eyes with his hand-- not wanting the celestial to know he was probably going to start crying any second now at the mere thought of his trauma. "He l-liked to do things, he liked to do things I wasn't ready for? And, w-well, no didn't really become an, an option with him. And he got angry, too, just like my old friends. Just like them, but w-worse."

A snarl breaks from Castors lips with a Sasuke! and the musician knows it's completely out of his control.

"He didn't--" The celestial's sentence breaks with a growl, voice tight with half-anger, half-concern. "--listen when you said no?"

Jazz nods, feeling his face pale with the memories and for his hands to turn to ice-- but he continues. He didn't want Castor to think he was broken or disgusting.

Even if he was.

"He threw things," Jazz jerks, the image of a glass shattering next to his head, the loud ringing and the black of fear surrounding him, blind and cold and scared. "A-and sometimes I, I annoyed him too much. I'd make him too angry without meaning to, I swear I didn't m-mean too. But he'd, he'd hit me sometimes. Not h-hard and, and I bruise easy anyway. I know it's not okay, what-- what he did, I mean. He shouldn't have treated me like that. And now, I j-just, I get scared when people touch me too much or unexpectedly. I get these flashbacks--" He gives a watery chuckle. "--I think people are actually him, sometimes. I shut down. It, it isn't pretty."

"I..." Castor clearly hesitates, moss over his face and body and holding him in it's anger-induced prison, those lightning-strike gray eyes hidden but probably no less full of rage. "I understand." Jazz wished he didn't. "What can I- -mother ducklings- -do so you don't get triggered?"

"You touching me is okay," Jazz tilts his head to the side, still feeling how his eyelashes were a little wet from the tears. "You... you m-make me feel safe, Castor. You're all green! I've never met someone all green before, it's beautiful. O-oh, anyways, I-- well, you're gentle. Not a lot of people are gentle with me, and you read my body language pretty well. If... if I feel uncomfortable, or having a really bad day where I can't be touched, I'll tell you? So, um, that way, it's still okay for me to get cuddles, yes?"

"Well yeah," Castor is tense as he says this, shoulders rolling uncomfortably and green still all moss and chartreuse and basils. Angry. Annoyed. Scared. "I haven't been touching you because I didn't want to cross your boundaries, which I- -in Eden- -already did since I didn't ask before. As long as you're okay with it, I'm okay with it."