Forever Never Lasts [✔]

The Unknown

Every life is complicated, every mind a kingdom of unmapped mysteries.

  It was one of those mornings. I didn't have these mornings often. The mornings when I couldn't find a reason. The mornings where I couldn't feel anything, when I couldn't think. These mornings always frightened Jasper, for the simple fact that I never seemed to care about everything, and I would go damn near mute. 

   I would easily get irritated or fed up, which made him walk on eggshells, but I just couldn't think to care. Nothing mattered on these days. It was like my depression had reached out of my soul, and figuratively ripped my self-esteem and feelings out.

   Jasper was already awake staring at me when I turned to face him, the change in his face told me he already knew that I wasn't in the correct mindset. I could see him go to touch me but quickly yank himself away. He knew better than to touch me when I was like this. As sad as that is, just the simple touch when I was in this type of mood, could set me off. 

  I rolled out of the bed and adjusted my flannel bottoms, Jasper skirted around me to the bathroom to begin his shower, he knew I wouldn't be babying him today. I simply looked at myself in the body mirror on our closet door, ruffled up my hair, and headed out the room downstairs to somehow magically make eggs that weren't burnt, but also weren't still raw. 

  By the time he was done with his shower and was walking into the kitchen, I had gone through an entire carton of eggs and was currently scraping the egg out of the pan, literally. For some stupid odd reason, the egg wouldn't come out of the pan. He grabbed the pan and spatula from me, skimming his fingers across my lightly, which made me tense up a bit as I watched him.

  I watched him look at the pan in disapproval. I had just fucked up another one of his pans, and his face screamed bloody murder to another extent.

"Ashton, did you put butter in here before you cooked the eggs?" He muttered, eyeing the empty carton of eggs.

"Uh.." I was dumbfounded.

Why the hell would I put damn butter in the pan?

"No, I don't want buttery eggs," I swear, he nearly hit me with the spatula as he set the pan down.

"You are banned from the kitchen, from cooking, get out of the kitchen," He practically hissed.

I fled from that kitchen faster than my ass is on fire. I sat on the couch, hoping he won't come out with a burnt egg and throw the brick of an egg at me.

  The weirdest part? This made me feel better.

He knew exactly what made me feel better.