Scorpio Pisces in Love Jessica Ward

Keep Art Alive :: “Scorpio Pisces in Love” :: Art by Jessica Ward

I’ll shine up the old brown shoes,
put on a brand-new shirt,
I’ll get home early from work 
if you say that you love me.”

Jack knows he should not love her. He knows it in the way he always knew his Mother would never come back home, he knows it in the way that he always puts one too many sugars in his coffee, and he knows it in the way that the last song on the last side of one of his Mother’s left behind albums always makes him ache inside.

Jack loved her though.

He drew her into all his pages, wrote her into every story, and filled his last eyelash heavy moments right before sleep with thoughts of her.

He thought of her other times, too, in the shower with the water on as hot as his pale skin could allow, his phone set to play the latest song that had her spinning around in it on repeat, while he closed his eyes and wrapped his fingers around himself, stroking, gently at first, his lips parting, her name teasing the tip of his tongue until it comes out as a hiss and a sigh, his blood pulsing, his hand moving faster now. If she was here, oh if only she was here.

Sometimes Jack thought she had burrowed herself under his skin, into his bloodstream, that he could feel her coursing through him, travelling and twisting and taking him over. Some nights when he was alone in his room, sketching her image again and again, feeling more alone than ever, he wants her out of him, all of her, completely. But, the feeling passes, the ache builds but so does his love.

Jack knows he shouldn’t love her, that she doesn’t feel the same, doesn’t dream of him like this, want him like this, fill her bloodstream full of him. He knows she looks at him and sees a boy, a companion, a friend, and that in those dear darling dark eyes of hers he sees everything but himself.

He has seen her wanting though, wistful and wanting as she stares off into the distance as they walk across the miles that stretch between school and this desert life of theirs. They often take the long way home, ditching the bus and all its made for the CW drama, wandering instead, slowly, side-by-side, together, but not together. He’s almost asked her a few times now, wanting to know who that faraway look belongs to, but not wanting to know at the same time, the not wanting outweighing his curiosity, and silencing his need to know.

Instead he asks Rae’s theory on whether Mal and Zoe came from Sunnydale, years and years later, post-Slayer apocaplypse or something along those lines. This week its Whedonverse that they debate, the week before it was the many shades of Batman and a debate on who does the best cover of a Joy Division song.

She gets it, all of it, in that girl from his dreams kind of way. But, she isn’t that, not some kind of made up fictional girl that every boy like him desires, no, she’s more layered, curved, flawed and fragile. The scars that she only trusted him to see they tell him more than her words ever could, just like every song he gives to Rae does (or how he hopes they do).

Today the sun is low, the air is thick and sticky, and she is quieter than usual. He wants to ask her. Hell, he wants to just tell her what he’s not supposed to say, feel, want. Maybe if he just does it, grabs her hand and says it quickly, maybe she would finally see him next to her, maybe she would want him back.

“Hey, Rae, stop a second.” Jack says, his voice cracking the way it did when his age started ending with a ‘teen’.

She stops, turning towards him, a small sigh escaping through her fading red lipstick.

The air felt thicker still, and Jack felt his throat go dry, prickly, coarse and constricting, like he had picked up a handful of sand and tried to swallow it. He looked at her, intently, trying to will the words from his gaze to hers, but all he saw, all he felt, was silence.

“Uh…do you think maybe Riley is related somehow…to Mal…like a Grandfather, or something.” He rambled, his words bumping heads and knocking each other out, making his voice shake and everything spill out a beat too fast.

Jack knows he really shouldn’t love her.

I Want You to Want Me :: Gary Jules

4 thoughts on “I’d love you to love me :: SOTD

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