GOLDEN AGE | ON HIATUS

XXIV | JASPER

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WHERE THERE WAS SMOKE, there was almost certainly a fire, and Jasper had learnt that the hard way. Everywhere he went, the fires seemed to follow him -- from when he'd been a child, forced to bear the weights of the bombs on his back, to when he met his father's eyes and watched him burn, and now, as he threw his arms over Sasha's soaking wet body, watching her gasp for air, unable to do anything but to run.

Jasper sat back in his chair, watching Sasha's body feebly stir, strands of dark hair curling around the delicate features of her face. She looked so delicate now, like an ornate sculpture -- beautiful, but about to be shattered by the tiniest of touches. As much as he wanted to reach out, he knew that he couldn't; he had already hurt her enough.

He wanted to run from it, run like from every other fire in his life. 

But something good inside of him, the little morals he had, they kept him in that room. He didn't doubt for a second that Sash would survive -- she always did, but he still couldn't help the churning anxiety in his stomach that arrived every time he thought of her. And he thought of her a lot. Hours of laying in his bed, staring into the blackness that pressed into the bedroom he shared with Finn, were spent worrying over her wellbeing, as well as the mild problem that was the crushing fate of all of Semper City. 

And Jasper wasn't alone. At night, Finn's constant tossing and turning kept him awake, too, as well as his occasional shaky sighs and deep breaths that sounded as if he were trying not to cry. The two of them managed to keep the charade that everything was fine going for a few days, but when Sasha began walking around again, it became increasingly harder. 

Footsteps sinking into the heavy plush carpet of the hallway, Jasper pressed his body against the door, which slid open as soon as his skin touched it. A hot cup of coffee kept his hands busy, nails stubby and bitten and fingers trembling, as he stepped inside the bedroom, finding Finn and Narcissa sat on the golden boy's bed, Sasha curled up in the armchair in the corner of the room. They were silent, not even exchanging a word, instead tracking Jasper with exhausted, sunken eyes.

"Hi?" Jas choked out at last, taking a sip of coffee. "Did y'all want some? It's downstairs if you want. Just brewed it." Burning hot liquid left a fiery trailer down his throat, but he ignored it, smiling in a way that was more of a grimace.

"I'm good," Narcissa replied, poking her thumbnail through a hole in the sleeve of her sweater absent-mindedly. "I can come with if anyone else wants some, though."

Furrowing his eyebrows, Jasper sat down with a light thump on his own bed, a splash of coffee spilling over the brim of his mug. Beads of the liquid rolled down his hand, and he mopped them up with the hem of his sweatshirt, setting the mug down on the bedside table. "I'm starting to think I'm not set out for the whole superhero thing."

"Why? Is it your charming disposition?" Finn asked with a grin, sitting cross-legged on the bed. Narcissa had set her head down on his shoulder, but he didn't seem to mind. Jasper found himself secretly hoping that Sasha might do the same thing to him, but as he looked over, she was still hiding in the armchair, obscured by the heavy upholstery.

"Yeah. It's always been, hasn't it?"

Blue-grey eyes met his own for a moment, and Sash sighed as she wriggled into a sitting position. "I might be going off on a limb here, but something tells me you're not joking this time."

"When have I ever been joking?" Jasper asked incredulously, and the corner's of her mouth twitched.

"Do you want me to go chronologically or alphabetically?"