Work Text:
June 5th, 2010.
Jasper’s old, beaten soccer shoes thump against the hill he ran upon.
You can barely hear his voice in that slow, drunken memory.
He slows, before coming to a stop.
You can see the grin on his face as he turns to look at you.
The boy with beautiful, black hair kneels on the grass, most likely dirtying his baby blue jeans.
Jas never cared about those kinds of things though.
He grabs something from the luscious, green growth, before his hands start moving.
You try your hardest to peek over his shoulder, to see whatever he was getting up to.
Instead he just moves his body to hide it.
After a small amount of time, which could have easily been an eternity for an eight year old, he looks back at you with a grin.
“Look Cassie!”
He says as he gently places something over your head.
“Dandelions.”
It’s all Casper can think about in that moment.
He thinks about what he lost, all down the drain in 3 minutes.
Dandelions.
He thinks about all of the memories they had had.
Dandelions.
He thinks about what his future may be like, if he ever has one.
Dandelions.
He snaps out of his daze, to stare at the mess below him.
They're dead.
They're fucking dead.
It was like a snap of a finger and they were gone.
…
What the fuck.
All he shared with Orianne.
All he shared with Aiden.
All he shared with…
With Jasper.
Jasper Smith.
And none of that will ever be coming back.
Crimson coats the pavement.
The soles of his old, beaten soccer sneakers.
The knees of his baby blue jeans.
Orianne’s hands.
Aiden’s face.
Jas.
He can’t tell what he’s holding back more, the tears or his bile.
One wins.
Drops of salt fall to the floor, his eyes still wide with shock.
Is this mania?
Is this how it feels to be insane?
Or is this how it feels to be alone.
With no one left to comfort you.
And doomed to stay that way forevermore.