Page 100 of Love, Magic and Misfortune
“It’s notyou—it’s the curse. You take so much ownership of it, like you conjured it up yourself. It’s not something you created. What we feel isn’t because of you. It’s because of what this awful thing does to you. How it terrorizes someone that we love so much, and we’re powerless. All we can do is sit and watch you suffer.”
“I’m used to it.”
“That doesn’t make it better.” Feeling him long and warm and wrapped in her arms within her bed made Violet smile. “You just took off all your clothes and started strutting around in front of me in your little black briefs. You’re sexy, Jasper—all legs.”
He pushed away from her, breaking free of their embrace. “I—I amnot—that word has nothingto do with me… I did not strut.” He sat staring at her, mouth twisted in a frown and his face beet red.
Violet batted her eyes, peeking up at him from her pillow. “Sweetandsexy.”
“Th-That’s not—” He stood quickly, moving to the ottoman and sitting down in a huff. He threaded his arms through his dress shirt first, then focused on the buttons. “Clearly the curse has done something weird to your head. It’s probably like being exposed to a dangerous chemical. Maybe I’m radioactive and I don’t know it.”
Sitting up, Violet crawled toward the end of the bed. When she reached him, he was pulling his sweater over his head. He finished, fretting and fixing the hem as Violet rested her chin against his shoulder. “There’s nothing wrong with my head. I’ve always felt this way about you. I’ve just never had the pleasure of seeing you naked before.”
He groaned and raked his hand through his hair, the beet-red blotches across his neck and face relentless. Violet leaned forward, sliding her arms underneath his to hug him from behind, holding him close. “Why are you being so fussy? Are you really going home?”
She felt him inhale deeply and breathe out, chest rising and falling underneath her palms, calming himself. “I don’t have to. If you want me here.”
“I do.”
“And you… You’re really okay? We’re alright?”
“Yes.”
Lowering his head, he closed his eyes. Violet leaned into his back, pulling him even closer. “Will you make a frittata, please? I have basil, tomatoes and mushrooms in the fridge. I’ve been trying to duplicate what you did that one time, but I can’t. You just make it better. I can mix up a smoothie with spinach, oat milk and strawberries for you? I think I have frozen peaches, too, if you prefer those?”
When he nodded, a tear ran down his cheek. But he reached up, swift in wiping his face with his fingers. “Sure.”
* * *
The daylight was particularlysoft and gray because of the cloudy sky. Something in it felt calming to Violet. Soothing to her mind and nerves like a warm cup of coffee or fresh towels from a dryer. They had cooked together in the kitchen, peaceably, unhurried in their movements. Talking, but not too much. It wasn’t so quiet that it became awkward, but the weight of the magic and their shared experience sat invisible between them—over them like a thick and darkly shimmering veil.
Where do we go from here?
Violet didn’t know. She knew what she wanted and what she hoped for: just a little bit more. Nothing too crazy. She wasn’t expecting him to suddenly overcome his trauma—for the curse to be broken, and everything between them easy and simple.
But maybesomething. A little glimpse into his mind, or a sign of what would become of them. Would they just be this way forever? Best friends snuggling and cuddling on the couch? Completely fulfilled with emotional intimacy and mental stimulation, but never physical? Knowing each other’s minds and hearts, but their bodies off-limits?
Well… so be it.
There was no one like Jasper. No one. And as Simone had lovingly reminded her, she was never limited in the things she could do by herself.
In the afternoon, they sat on the sun porch (despite the distinct lack of sun). Violet was nearly done with Jasper’s portrait and had promised him that this was the final sitting. She focused on her canvas, in her element and feeling a bit like she did when she was a child—her hair piled up in a haphazard bun, charcoal smudges on her fingers and pants.
Jasper sat across from her in a wicker chair, silent. Usually his eyes were downcast and zeroed in on whatever book he had in his hands. Today, though, every time Violet looked up, his eyes were on hers. Searching. With disbelief? Confusion? She couldn’t know. Whatever it was, she decided to let him sort it out on his own.
“This book you’re reading must not be very good,” she said eventually, grinning as she worked.
He looked down at the thick hardcover in his lap. “It’s fine… Why do you say that?”
She chuckled. “Because you keep staring atme. Either this book is boring or I’m suddenly more interesting.”
“You are always more interesting. The most interesting.” He took a breath and then plastered his palm to his forehead. His creamy skin shifted to rosy pink. Violet stopped and set her messy hands in her lap with her palms up.
“Jas, what is it? Whatever it is, just say it, okay? You can talk to me—always.”
He dropped his hand from his forehead, meeting her eyes. He didn’t say anything, but put his book aside and stood. Violet was surprised when he hovered over her, then knelt down in front of her as she sat on the bench with one leg tucked underneath her body, the other hanging over the edge. She blinked, looking down into his flushed face. “What’s wrong?”
Resting with his hands on either side of her hips, he gripped the soft cushion in his fists and stared at her knees. “Would… Violet, would you kiss me?” He lifted his head, but then flicked his eyes away. Shoulders tense.
