Confidant

3) I Know You Hear It

"I know you hear it, the fights."

His eyes bore into mine, looking for confirmation. The air becomes tense and uncomfortable and I find myself wanting to crack open a window.

What he said was a statement, but it comes out as a question and there's a tinge of hope in his eyes. A part of him wants me to deny ever hearing anything, no matter how unlikely we both know that is.

I choose not to beat around the bush either.

"Yes."

A simple word, three letters, one syllable and a complete sentence in itself.

One word that bats away any little bit of hope behind his now clouded eyes, and he physically slumps.

His jaw line is made stronger as he clenches it, and our proximity allows me to see every feature of his face.

The creases between his eyebrows from his frowning, those that have formed on the side of his mouth too, the straight line of his nose, the shadows casted by his eye lashes, the way the sun light on the side of his face highlights the colours in that one eye, his tanned skin, the true colour of his lips, their shape...

Jasper is the most beautiful person I've ever seen.

Sad, but still so beautiful.

I fidget awkwardly after I realise I've been staring, but he doesn't seem to notice, looking as if he is in deep thought.

After a long moment, he shuts his eyes and looks almost as if he is bracing himself before he speaks.

"Have you ever...have you spoken about it, to anyone?" He struggles to get the words out, and even though it's a question, he sounds accusing.

"No. It isn't any of my business and especially not my place to say anything." I answer sternly, looking into his eyes with just as much seriousness as my words.

Almost immediately relief flushes over his features but I can't help but feel offended that he would think I would actually do something like that. 

"I'm not the gossiping type of girl Jasper, and I seriously don't think people's personal lives are ever a topic that should be discussed by anyone, anyway." I add on, not looking at him anymore, hoping he can tell that I'm hurt.

Does he think that low of me? Do I really seem that shallow or insensitive?

He seems to catch on to my tone and sends me an apologetic glance.

"Sorry I had to ask, I just wanted to be sure that the whole school wouldn't be talking about how fucked up it is in Jasper McKay's home."

He looks almost defeated, and my anger and hurt from his accusation completely fizzes away, leaving me feeling sorry for him.

"Please don't... say anything to anyone okay?" He looks at me, his eyes begging as he runs a hand though his hair in stress.

I nod and try to send him a reassuring smile.

"I wouldn't Jasper."

"Okay." He sighs out, nodding after a second or two. "...Thank you."

He leaves the car after that, not another word is exchanged between us, not even a goodbye. As soon as the car door is shut, I lay my head back against my seat, my brain working a mile a minute to try and process everything.

I watch him walk away casually, as if we didn't just have such a heavy exchange.

How does he do it?