The fear in me

Nay

Not five minutes later Jason is in my room. I'm so excited. How should I act now?

"Hi," he says, and looks around. He takes a look at the pictures on my walls. It must really look as if I've got a fixation on Tim, because there are very many photos of him on my walls. Although Tanja and Kay are also up there in orderly rows, it's Tim's face that predominates. Then Jason's eyes fall on the window to Tim's room. His eyes goes dark for a moment, then he begins to relax. Whatever is going on in his head something seems to calm him down, because the coals give way to the tiger eyes. That's good! Tim is not here. He went off on his bike an hour ago after he was here and asked me whether I want to go to the ice cream parlour. I said I had no time and he was disappointed. It didn't bother me.

In any case my thoughts were with Jason the whole time. I discussed the homework with Tanja and she again gave me a tip to proceed slowly in the matter of Jason. All the more I was surprised that he's here now. With me! Without my doing anything!

I think of his hands on my skin and his kisses, and I sigh sadly.

"Is everything okay?" he asks worriedly and tenderly.

I snatch myself out of my daydream and look at him. I can't tell him what I've been thinking ... nor what I've already done, so I say only, "Yes, everything's okay!" and I don't know whether that sounds honest. I'm not a particularly good liar and his eyes say that he feels that too.

"You aren't angry with me, are you? I mean, we've explained everything, haven't we?" he asks uncertainly.

I look at him with soft eyes. "Yes, don't worry. Things really are okay!"

Except that I'd like to pull you to me, I think and give another sigh, which again irritates him.

"Ahem ... what's our homework?" Jason asks, and it sounds like a deliberate sidetrack. He sits down at the desk and unpacks his files. Then he looks at me with expectation.

"Okay, pay attention ..." I say, and we actually start doing the homework.

I take a peek at his gloves. He still has them on. That confuses me. Can he write properly like that? I glance at his note. He has quite beautiful handwriting. So fluent and ...

"What's up? Is that wrong?" he asks annoyed and reads with concentration his slip.

"No, no, all correct. I just looked to see if you can write properly ... I mean, wearing gloves. But it works, I can see that. You've got quite beautiful handwriting." I answer and note how the blush rises up in my face.

"Just a matter of practice," he explains and smiles his sweetest grin.

"Do you think it's also a matter of practice to touch someone?" my tongue lurches and I'm shocked that I've just said that out aloud. "Forget it!" I say quickly and in embarrassment I bury myself in my notes again.

"Nay, it's okay. It was quite a normal question!"

"Really? You're not angry again?" I glance up and look at him. I'm expecting the coal eyes, but I see only my beloved tiger eyes.

He shakes his head. "I'm frustrated myself that I can't be the way I want to be," he says honestly.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I ask hopefully.

He again shakes his head and gives me a sad glance. "If this business is going to function, I mean our ... ah ... friendship, then you have to accept everything ... everything!" he says and then whispers, "I really don't want to hurt you!"