have a little faith | janthony

chapter three: faithful

tw:
themes of sexual assault, emotional abuse, and non-consensual sex.
kidnapping / drugging

Jasmine's chat with Emmy had left her with more questions than answers, as any conversation about soulmates typically did. She held back the storm of thoughts inside her head by shoving her hands into her coat pockets and picking at the lining until she returned home.

"Hey baby girl," Jordan called out from where he lay on the couch. "How was your day?"

"Fine, how was yours?" Jasmine mumbled with a halfhearted smile, kicking off her shoes before walking past the couch into the kitchen.

"Woah, no kiss, babe?" He teased, but his eyebrows narrowed enough to pull Jasmine back over to the couch.

"Sorry love, hi," she said more softly now. She leaned down to press her lips to his in a chaste kiss, but before she could back away his hand was cupping her cheek. The gesture was innocent, sweet even, but it's softness so contradicted her stress and frustration.

"What's going on, sweetheart? You seem flustered." Jordan tried to study her face, and shifted over to make room on the couch for her to sit down at his side. He patted the cushion, and reluctantly, she complied. Though she left a few inches between them, he wasted no time in placing his hand just above her knee, rubbing circles with his thumb as he swiveled to face her.

"I'm fine," she huffed, "just... I don't know. "

"You can tell me, baby," he cooed, squeezing her leg more firmly. She knew he'd felt the way her thigh tensed upon his touch before her mind overpowered it to relax, but she also knew he'd pretend he hadn't.

It wasn't the supposedly comforting touch that made her want to talk, it was how badly she wanted that touch to stop. "Do you ever want to communicate with me through our soul bond, or share how you're feeling, or let me in or whatever?"

Jordan pulled back his hand, as his face scrunched up into a frown. "Jasmine, we've talked about this before. Of course I want to, god I'm dying to, but you are blocking me." He looked down to his lap while shaking his head, filtering all the disapproval he could muster into his expression. Before she replied, he snuck a peek up at her to see if he'd been granted any pity, but was sorely disappointed.  "Anyways, where is this coming from?"

"I.. I know, I was just talking to Emmy, and how she and Daveed have such a strong bond, and it -"

"Yeah, it would be fucking wonderful, Jasmine, that's why I wish so badly you would let me in," he interjected.

"I.. I'm sorry, Jordy, I'm not trying to, or I don't know how, or what to do," she babbled. Her eyes dropped from his, as she looked to her lap. Her cheeks felt like they were on fire, ignited by the shame and frustration coursing through her, and the last thing she needed was for him to see the tears welling in her eyes.

"Well then don't blame me for your shortcomings, Jasmine." His tone left no room for any rebuttal, though she wouldn't be able to muster one even if it had. By the time she'd blinked away the threatening tears, Jordan had reached for the TV remote to fill the silence.

This image of sitting on the couch and watching TV with her soulmate couldn't have been further from what she'd envisioned for herself as a young girl watching her parents. Even if her mom and dad had begun by sitting on opposite sides of the couch, some invisible string would tighten between them until they each received the physical touch they craved. Whether it was their thighs touching as they sat as close together as possible, or a hand on a back, or a head on a shoulder, they both breathed deeper because of it. That image was one that Jasmine held as a prime example of everything she wanted for her future, and that intense longing stayed with her until the day she turned eighteen.