He nodded sagely before smiling softly. He leaned forward and pressed his warm lips to my forehead. I let out a gentle sigh of relief. “As long as I can help you, I’m more than happy.”
He squeezed my wrist. I felt as though my heart was working properly again. After a little while my legs were growing cold and a little numb. Casper tugged me to my feet and guided me back into my room, sitting me on the edge of my bed. “I’ll be right back,” he murmured, his hand lingering a little longer on my shoulder.
He drifted out of the door. When he returned there was no time wasted in us slipping beneath my duvet. As I curled up on my side, sleep already tugging at my mind, Casper propped his legs up and flicked through his book to find his place. Opening the book, he cast a glance down at me and smiled softly, before turning his attention back to the page. His low, soothing voice was the last thing I heard before I finally succumbed to exhaustion.
Chapter Twenty-One
Today was the day. I was almost bouncing off the walls with excitement. Despite the emotional upheaval of the previous evening I felt as though every limb had a live-wire humming inside. Waking up before my alarm clock, I washed and dressed in record time. I had to find some way to entertain myself whilst waiting for Casper to reply to my text. My knee bounced as I waited for a response, my mind running through a million thoughts per minute. I was fired up with the anticipation of getting away from campus, lectures and, most of all, Isabel. We hadn’t spoken in the last twelve hours and I had no desire to break that streak. Not yet at least.
By the time Casper replied telling me that he was ready, we were cutting it pretty fine to make it to the train station. Pocketing my phone, I did one last scan through my room to make sure I had everything, before hurrying down the hall. I’d just raised my hand to knock when the door swung inwards to reveal Casper. Only he wasn’t the Casper I was used to, he was more like ‘Casper with extras’; instead of his usual soft hair, he’d put some sort of styling wax in it making it look messy, his eyes were darkened with eye-liner and his clothes weren’t the casual ones I was used to. He still wore the same black jeans and heavy soled boots, but instead of the long-sleeved shirts I was used to that hid his scarred arms, he was wearing a blue and black tie-dye shirt under a collarless leather jacket. I couldn’t hide my surprise; I’d never seen him wear any of these clothes before. Why had he been hiding that he had a surprisingly darker yet sexier sense of style?
Something hard tapped against my cheek. Blinking, I snapped myself back to reality and rubbed where he’d flicked my face to get my attention. “Where did these clothes come from?”
He gave me a deadpan look, “My wardrobe.”
“No I mean –I’ve never seen these sorts of clothes on you before.”
He shrugged as he stepped out with his suitcase before turning to lock his door, “I have a whole bunch of clothes you haven’t seen before.”
“Yeah but why wear them now?”
He shrugged his shoulders, “I guess I wanted to see your reaction to my more elaborate outfits. And because if I’m going to piss your mum off just by existing, shouldn’t I go all out?”
“She will crucify you.”
“She can try.”
Rolling my eyes, I followed him out to the lifts where he jabbed the button. “Well what about the make up? Who’s that for?”
“You of course.” He wiggled his eyebrows at me when I jerked to look at him. I felt my cheeks burn when he chomped his teeth together. He snickered as he followed me into the lift. The doors clattered closed behind us.
We rode the lift down to the ground floor. The air was fairly warm and sunny making me sweat under my light hoodie. I dreaded to think how hot Casper was under his leather jacket. We trekked down to the train station in a comfortable silence, the effort to drag two heavy suitcases down a steep hill to take all the energy out of us.
The morning was bright with small wreaths of clouds trailing back and forth in front of the sun. The air smelled soft and fresh of cut grass as we trudged along down the road. Once we’d made it to the right platform and checked the train schedule we dropped down into one of the metal benches lining the shelter and relaxed. I still felt as though I had a tightly wound ball of nerves jittering inside me but I tried not to let it affect me too much.
“Are you okay?” Casper asked lowly as he dug out a bent pack of cigarettes from his back pocket. I watched him slip one between his lips, light it and take a drag with as much grace as a hand-model.
Nodding, I asked, “Yeah why?”
“Because your foot is bouncing so hard I’m surprised you haven’t cracked a hole through to Australia.”
“Don’t you mean China?” I teased.
“I mean stop bouncing your foot or I’ll cut it off,” he groused, letting smoke curl around his lips.
I tried to stop the bouncing, I really did. The only indication that I honestly didn’t succeed was when Casper growled low in his throat, gripped my knees tightly before swinging his legs over up onto mine. “Now fucking stop or I’ll knee you in the face,” he snapped before taking another inhale from his cigarette.
“Maybe I’ll stop if you let me have a puff,” I nodded at the cigarette in his hands.
He sighed before leaning over and holding the butt up to my lips. There was only enough time to take a quick inhale before the tip was taken from my mouth. Relaxing back into the bench I let my fingers caress his shin through the jeans. He tensed up a little and his muscles shook from where he was trying to relax. Just when I thought he was about to, he jerked his legs off of mine. Frowning, I glanced over his shoulder in time to see a small group of people step out onto the platform and check the train schedule.
As stupid as it was, my heart grew heavy and slid down in my chest. The urge to ask him about his aversion to PDA was on the tip of my tongue, but the way his shoulders tensed up around his ears told me it was best to leave well alone. Instead, I nudged my knee against his, forcing him to snap his head around to me.
“It’ll be okay,” I murmured softly. He hard, grey eyes flickered over my face for a moment before he hummed and turned to stare down at the concrete again. Biting down on my bottom lip I nudged his leg again. “When did you leave last night?” I asked.
“Hm? About … 3AM. You were asleep and I snuck back to my room for a while.”
“Why?” I asked, feeling let-down when I’d woken up alone.
He shrugged before rolling his head to look at me, “You really want to know?” I nodded. “I was dying for a smoke after I finished the book. Then I didn’t want to disturb you by climbing back over you, so I just slept in my room for a few more hours.”
“I wouldn’t have minded,” I mumbled.
“I know but you needed your sleep. You had a rough night last night.” I opened my mouth to object but he held his hand up to silence me, “No, you did. To be honest, I don’t want to know what that blue-haired bitch said. If it was bad enough to make you have a mini-episode in the bathroom, I don’t need to know more than that.”
Unexpectedly, a small weight lifted from my chest. He didn’t need to know exactly what we’d spoken about. Not yet at least. Another part of my brain was desperate to know why he’d reacted so badly to the drugs and the alcohol. “Well if it makes you feel any better we’re not exactly on speaking terms right now.”
“Good,” he stated firmly, “You don’t need people like her in your life.”
“Which people?”
“Manipulative people.”
“You manipulate me,” I pointed out softly.
“I manipulate you by letting you do what you want for a change?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Mhm,” I bit down on my mouth to stop my grin, “You’re clearly lulling me into a false sense of security so that one day you can unleash your demonic plans on me.”
We glanced at one another and then burst out laughing. My stomach started to cramp with how much enjoyment I got from our strange, sarcastic banter. I loved it.
He made me laugh like I hadn’t done in a long time. Truthfully, I couldn’t even remember when that had been.
I gasped for breath and leaned my head back on the cool metal backrest, “Thank you for coming with me. I don’t think I could handle my parents on my own right now.”
“Honestly? I think I’m about as shit scared as you are. I’ve never done this whole ‘meet the parents thing’ before.”
“Really? Never?”
He shook his head. “Nope,” he turned to look at me, “You’re my first.”
He was so closed I could kiss him if I wanted to. There were only a handful of people on the station now, but I could do it. Just a quick one. It might stun him into silence for the rest of the journey, but all for a cheeky little kiss it might be worth it.
‘ALL PASSENGERS BOARDING THE 11:21 TRAIN TO LONDON ON PLATFORM TWO, YOUR TRAIN HAS ARRIVED!’
I groaned as I leaned away from Casper, his casual blank expression slipping firmly into place as we both stood up and dragged our cases over to the edge. Our train was just coming around the corner, its wheels squeaking loudly as it eased to a stop alongside the platform. Casper and I climbed aboard with a crush of anxious people stepping up behind us. We managed to just squeeze our cases into the trolley compartment and find a pair of seats off to one side before any unwanted touching began. People on public transport really had no morals or self-restraint. I’d never really noticed before how bad it truly was until that moment.
As we settled down in the chairs I felt hyper-aware of everything around me; the smell of the toilets down the other end of the coach mingling with the ripe scent of sweat, the sickening jolts of the train as it clanked along the tracks and the stale coffee-tinted air that clung to everything. Not to mention the way the bodies bustled against one another, leg-to-leg, or hands in the smalls of someone else’s back to help steady them whilst pushing them aside. I glanced at my phone; we’d be in London within the hour, which wasn’t too bad. It would give us enough time to prepare ourselves.
“So your parents …what do I introduce myself as; classmate, dorm-mate or boyfriend?” Casper asked.
I glanced up at him from where I was playing on my phone and raised both eyebrows. “Well boyfriend isn’t a term you associate with yourself, so I don’t know why you would introduce yourself as one.”
He shrugged stiffly before slouching lower in his seat, “Maybe I want to bug them.”
“Why would you want to bug my parents when you haven’t even met them yet?” I asked incredulously. I watched for a reaction but didn’t get anything other than his long, black lashes drooping downwards. Did he not want my parents to like him? Or did he think that it wouldn’t matter as they’d assume the worst and judge him from that alone? “Oh…”
It wasn’t that he wanted my parents to hate him; it was because he knew at least my mother would hate him and therefore she deserved to have it thrown in her face.
He shifted awkwardly and scoffed, “Look, it doesn’t matter okay? We’ll just go there and wing it.”
“Well we don’t have to go straight to mine. I said we’d be there in the afternoon so we can at least grab some lunch and walk around for a bit beforehand.”
His muscles relaxed, “Sounds good.”
Pressure lifted from my chest. The train swayed from side-to-side as we moved swiftly along the tracks. “So how do you want to kill an hour?” I asked, my mind starting to feel sluggish, no doubt the effects of the previous evening finally clawing at my hyper mood. Casper shrugged beside me. “We could play twenty questions? Or we could ask random questions and see who sucks most?” I joked, my knee starting to bounce again.
“Sure,” he turned to me and cocked a dark eyebrow, “You first.”
My mind blanked. I licked my lips and asked the first thing that came to mind. “Er … do you ever plan on getting a tattoo or a piercing?”
“Wow you really do suck at this,” he muttered dryly. “I’ve thought about it. I wouldn’t mind getting both but as you know, a tattoo would require a lot of skin contact and I don’t think I’m up to that.” He clucked his tongue before nodding his head, “I think I’d get a piercing; it’s quick, painful and over within seconds. I can handle that, I think.” His grey eyes flew up to meet my own. “My turn. What’s your original hair colour?”
I grimaced at the question, “Really? You couldn’t have asked something normal like the length of my spine, or how many eyelashes I leave all over campus? Fine!” I sighed dramatically, my grin threatening to break through. “It’s not anything great; it’s a cross between very dark gold and a mousy brown.”
“Really? Huh,” was all Casper said as he nodded thoughtfully.
“So what do you want to do when you graduate?”
This time it was Casper’s turn to grimace. “Eurgh, you ask such dreadful questions!”
“Don’t avoid it,” I said gently poking his thigh out of sight from everyone else. I can’t say I wasn’t disappointed when he tensed at the touch.
Rolling his eyes forcefully, he said, “I want to go into animation. It takes a lot to even get recognized so I could go for years doing something mediocre without getting anywhere.”
“Then why do it?”
Cocking a sleek dark eyebrow at me he shook his head, “That’s another question. It’s my turn.”
“You didn’t actually answer mine. You gave a very vague response.”
He ground his teeth together, his eyes unblinking and hot. “I plan on going into animation. I plan on doing short films, trailers, maybe even a music video here or there if someone likes my style. Until any recognition comes, I plan on doing general graphics and website administration for people who come looking for it.”
“That still sounds risky,” I hedged.
“Art and music are the two difficult things to build up on,” he replied. “It’s not like economics or business studies or even law. You could be in your fifties before you get recognized. Same goes for me.”
“You’re a morbid little shit, you know that?” I groused.
Casper snickered, “Yep. That’s me; morbidity and realism at your door twenty-four seven.”
“Realism from the artist? That’s rich.” He jabbed me in the thigh with a sharp finger. “Okay, okay! Your turn!”
We continued on that way for the rest of the train journey. The countryside and cityscape passed by in a blur through the window I had my back against. Before long we were pulling up outside St. Pancras station. As we waited for the rest of the people to climb off and leave enough wiggle room for us to get our cases, we dragged ourselves onto the platform and made for the barriers. Once we’d gotten through and drifted to the outskirts of the crowd, Casper pressing close against me, despite the added weight of our suitcases behind us. I couldn’t help but smile as I navigated through the throng of people as Casper’s sweaty palm found mine through the madness and clung on tightly, as though I was his life-line instead of the other way around. I squeezed back and silently vowed to get outside as soon as possible.
As soon as we were outside in the fresh air and bright afternoon sunlight I tugged the sleeve of Casper’s jacket and made him follow me down out of the way of the main entrance. I stopped and sat down on a bench by the bus depot and checked my phone.
“We can either eat now or head closer to my house and then eat?” I glanced up at him and froze. His skin looked chalky and he was hunched up more so than usual. His muscles were tense and stiff and his eyes were locked on the pavement. “Casper … Are you okay?” I mentally cursed at myself. Despite rushing through the train station and trying to get to freedom as soon as possible, I’d completely disregarded just how badly this would affect him. I hadn’t realised how claustrophobic he’d feel, even in a train station as big as St. Pancras.
I reached out to touch his arm just as his eyes darted up to meet mine. He jerked out of reach. My hand hovered in the air before it fell into my lap. He swallowed thickly, keeping his eyes fastened on mine. “Yeah … I’l
l be fine. Let’s just go and eat or something.”
My integrity and my hunger were warring with one another. None too soon, my hunger won out. “Okay,” I murmured, “Let’s go and eat.”
We ate at a nearby McDonalds at a leisurely pace, the anticipation of eventually going home again after four months building inside me. Within ten minutes Casper seemed to relax a little in our booth, the suitcases creating a perfect little barrier between us and the crowd shuffling beyond. When we finally I checked my phone it was already past 2PM. Groaning, I looked up at Casper, “It’s getting late. Do you want to leave now or wait a little longer?”
He shrugged not meeting my gaze, “Depends; are we taking the bus back to yours or are we going to get picked up?”
I chewed on the inside of my cheek, “Well we won’t be getting picked up I know that much.” I tapped my phone screen, trying to think of a better alternative. “We can either pay for a taxi or take public transport.” I watched him tense and instantly regretted my words. “I personally wouldn’t mind a taxi. I know it’ll be a little pricey but I’d prefer that compared to trying to get two cases on public buses and get seats. Sound good?”
The look of relief in those clear grey eyes felt like a punch in the gut. Why was someone so morally sound and strong, so afraid at the same time? What happened to him to make him this way? Was it just the fear of being touched or did it truly run deeper than that? Why were his beautiful arms lined with puckered, pink scars?
“Sounds good,” he finally stated as he offered a weak smile. I returned it. Together we stood and navigated our way towards the entrance of the building.
*
The sun was starting to slip lower in the sky by the time we pulled up at the end of my road. We’d travelled from the center of the city to the surrounding suburban areas where there were houses instead of blocks of flats that reached up into the sky. The houses we strolled past were fairly large with fences around the front gardens. Casper seemed more relaxed as the soft, warm air filled his lungs. Even the tension in his shoulders and stiffness of his gait had eased up a little.
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