Jazz Red's Anomaly

c h a p t e r. 16

"There are two tragedies in life. One is to lose your heart's desire. The other is to gain it." ―George Bernard Shaw

chapter 16

Jazz doesn't think he's ever seen Castor more nervous than when the celestial led him to his room and pointed at the bed.

"Here," He said. "Just sit, please." Without hesitation, the musician does so, watching as his star stands above him for a moment before quickly skirting over to his desk and leans back against the chair, legs propped up.

After eyeing him for a second, the celestial gives a soft sigh.

"Jasper, c'mon," Castor says, a growl to his gentle voice. "Even if I could realistically get you in trouble, I can't. I'm not your authority figure, I don't have any control over you. You don't have to act like you're in trouble."

That's so untrue, though. He was a God-- his God, and Jazz had an almost-love for him. He could totally get Jazz into 'trouble' by just being mad at him.

Anxiety was punishment enough.

"T-talk usually means um," Jazz shifts in his spot. "Sit still while someone y-yells at me."

Frowning, Castor grabs the dog tags from around his neck in a reassuring grip like how he always does when he's a little sure-- cluing the musician in on how he feels just as much as the pine and sage in his song, "It's not like that with me. If I ever yell at you you must have like, killed someone or something. Or gotten hurt. And you bet your sweet ass that if you don't yell back at me if I ever do it for no goddamn reason I'll be a bit disappointed."

Yell back? No thank you.

"I-I don't like to yell."

"Listen, Love," He says, leaning forward slightly-- the endearment not lost on Jazz. "I noticed your thing when it comes to touching and I'm just trying to respect that."

He blinks, slightly confused, "...my thing?"

"You know," Castor shrugs, not looking at him and Jazz knew it was purposeful, like he was trying to respect him but not exactly knowing how. "You don't like to be touched. Not first, anyway. And I -I have asked. Usually I go off body language, since I'm no good with words, but I'm getting better at it."

"Oh..."

He-- he noticed that?

Jazz was okay touching him. Touching people like Viv and Axel and his family who he completely trusts, because he knows that they will understand what the word no means and respect it too, understand when he's not comfortable touching someone before even he realizes it.

And he doesn't realize it-- most of the time, he has a hard time recognizing when too much is too much, when things start to make him panic until he's on the floor in tears.

Castor-- well.

Castor was safe. Castor wouldn't hurt him either-- he wouldn't... he wouldn't push him to do anything, either. He was respectful.

"Do you, um," Jazz rubbed the back of his neck. "Do you want t-to know why, um... why I'm-- why I'm like this?"

The celestial raises an eyebrow and glances at him, "Having boundaries and being nervous towards touch?"

"Not nervous," Though he was right about the boundaries. "Scared."

That got Castor's attention, the celestial tensing almost automatically as he sits up straight against the desk, feet falling onto the floor as he observes Jazz-- who only fidgets in response.