Sorry for the late chapter, I have bad mental health :))) another short one
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It's hard to sleep. I manage to come in and out, sleeping for a moment and then waking up for another until my eyes eventually commit to the hour. I feel Jasper touching my fingers. He's looking down at my left one thumbing the pads of my middle and ring finger. We're on our sides, facing each other. He's fully clothed like he's going to leave.
"You have calluses," He whispers careful not to disturb the sleepy silence of my house, "Only on these two fingers"
"So do you" I feel his left hand. He has calluses on every finger except his thumb and down his palm.
"I have another one on my middle finger. Over the bone. And when I bend it..." I curl it a little, showing him the callus that erects at the joint, "...there's a little bump. It's from how I bowl"
He massages the bump, seeing it with touch since although we were approaching winter when the morning sun would arrive earlier than before, the hour was still dark.
"Benicio calls it my pregnant finger"
Jasper smiles, "I used to have one there. Little lower. Because of how I would hold the pencil. Guitar, writing and auxiliaries almost gave me carpal tunnel. It wasn't until my dad made me change it in sixth grade.
My mom was the one that taught me to write. She didn't care how I held the pencil as long as I could. She liked writing even if she didn't finish school"
He's talking about himself. I don't try to respond, not wanting to cause him to stop. He's never talked about his mother to me or anyone. Maybe my brother but I wouldn't know.
"My dad would sit me down in the kitchen and make me practice cursive while holding the pencil normally until it became habit"
"Sixth grade. Isn't that around the time you moved in next door?"
I see the shadow of his face move as he nods, "Yeah, little after"
"Did she know about your music interest?"
"I got it from my dad. She knew I was going to be like him"
I squeeze his hand, "What does your dad think? Is he happy about it?"
He returns to his back. I might've exhausted as much information as I could out of him, "No. He thinks I'll be like him. He sees me in a suit. In an office somewhere in a skyscraper"
"I don't know what it is you want. But You look different when you're performing"
His eyebrows furrow down like I said something odd and his head faces me again, "How?"
"You're like...lightening. Like you don't have control. You always have control but when you play its being without needing control. No limitations"
"Is that what I look like?" He mumbles to himself.
"Before I knew about it I thought you were too golden to be true"
"And now that you know I have a band I'm not anymore?"
I chuckle, "No. I meant you were...really normal. I figured you had secrets just because everyone does, it was really humanizing knowing you really did"
"My imaginary pedestal" He shakes his head bewildered but enjoying this, "Humanizing. What was I before you discovered I was human?"
"I don't know. Werewolf. Angel. Crocotta. A chupacabra"
I can see some of the shadows that outline his amused smile. He lets out a hushed breathy laugh, "I don't even know what the third one is"
"It's from Indian-Ethiopian mythology. They're like monsters that can mimic human voices, usually of the victims loved ones to lure them into a trap and eat their soul" Im instantly embarrassed of how nerdy that sounded.
He cups my cheek, "You and Benicio watch too much creepy shit"
He sits up and I know I should stop the questions and save them for later. I bring up Sam instead.
"Holden's Uncle told me you quit your job"
"I did"
I wait for him to go on. He pulls out his phone to check the time. It's almost 5:30am.
"My dad called me for something and we were busy. I had to leave. I knew I'd get fired anyway" He's being vague. I might've made it worse.
"Doesn't look like it. He wanted to know if you were alright"
He stands up, stretches his arms to go.
"Tell him I am" He puts his knit cap back on, adjusting it loosely in my mirror.
"I think he wants you to keep working there" I follow him to the window to quietly open it for him. It squeaks if not careful.
He has one leg out when he pulls me down by the neck and kisses my cheek, "I'll tell him then"
Flustered I sputter an awkward 'okay' nearly forgetting I'm supposed to be quiet, "Uh, I'll see you at our Christmas dinner this week?"
He nods like he knows I'm stalling his leave, "Go back to sleep"