Stigma

Chapter 10

James

I don't know how long I can get away with lying here in Jason's arms, but it seems like something that won't last long. I can feel his breath on my neck, he's sending shivers down my spine every time he breathes out. I've still got hold of his hand, and I twine my fingers with his. The weight of his leg slung over my waist is comforting, and it gives me this claimed feeling that I'm really enjoying. I don't understand everything that just happened, or what all transpired between us, but it feels big. It feels huge.

Instead of pushing me away, Jason uses his leg to pull me closer. "Thank you," he murmurs.

I smile and bring his fingers back to my lips. "For what?"

Jason is quiet for a bit, and I think maybe he won't answer, but then he does. His words come slowly, like he's choosing them carefully, or perhaps forcing them out. "For... giving me something I've never had before."

"What's that?"

More silence. Then, "Control."

Heat floods my cheeks. "Over another person?"

"Over myself." Maybe it's not just me that feels as if this is all momentous. Maybe it's Jason, too. "I'm not used to making decisions," Jason continues, still speaking in that slow, almost stilted way. "I'm not used to choices. I'm not... I'm not confident enough, I think. Or maybe that doesn't have anything to with it." I feel almost as if he's speaking to himself and not to me.

"You are confident," I tell him, because even if he isn't really talking to me, I'm here and I'm listening. "Confident and strong and just... sure of yourself. Sure of what you want."

Jason's laugh ghosts over the back of my neck. "I think you're just seeing what you want to see."

"Or maybe I'm seeing you as you really are, and you're the one seeing what you want to see."

Jason doesn't respond to this, and I know he's done talking. I keep his hand at my mouth, breathing in his scent. I close my eyes and listen to his even breaths, and just as I'm starting to drift off, Jason shifts behind me, removing his leg and extricating his hand from mine.

"You need to leave." Jason doesn't say this harshly, or with any sort of anger. If anything, he sounds sad. Resigned. Apologetic. "I won't make up an excuse this time, because you deserve better than that."

I'm fully awake now.

I sit up. Jason is on his knees, his hands on his thighs, his eyebrows pulled down low over his ocean colored eyes. He's looking at me in a way that makes me think he doesn't actually want me to leave, but I'm not about to force my presence on him. I already know that won't work, and will most likely have the opposite of the desired effect. "Okay. Let me just get dressed." He nods, and climbs off the bed. He starts gathering clothing, handing my boxers and jeans to me before starting to put his own clothes back on. There's something about the set of his shoulders that I don't like, and my stomach sinks and my heart does this pathetic sort of stutter. "That was it, wasn't it?" I button my pants and take the shirt Jason hands me. He doesn't look at me. "That's the last time we'll ever do that."

Jason pulls his own shirt over his head, and when he emerges on the other side, his eyes meet mine. "Yeah."

The anger comes out of nowhere. Just suddenly flares to life inside me. "Tell me why." I have to grit my teeth to keep from yelling.

"It doesn't matter why, I'm telling you it can't happen again. It was good, it's done. It's over. And this –" Jason throws his arm out towards me, making a gesture that seems to encompass me and him and everything between us. "This is over."