Within My Blood (Chapter 8-part 2)

Jasper could feel her breath on his neck and it made every hair on his body stand on edge. She was so close to him now. Closer than he wanted her to be but there was something about the way that she looked at him now that made his muscles seize up. Everyone else around them seemed to disappear and Jasper felt like they were the only ones left in the world. Her perfume had started to tickle his nose. It smelled like the warm cookies his mom used to bake him for his birthday. ‘Vanilla’ he thought, resisting the urge to lean in and take a large whiff.

“Because I know you can’t, no matter how much someone pleads or irritates you, you just can’t.” She told him.

The girl's eyes moved down to look at the gun that Jasper still held in his hand. He had let it fall to his side when she had told him to shoot her, not understanding why she would be so willing to sacrifice her life to him. She studied it for a moment and Jasper watched as her lips pinched up in concentration. He wanted to know what was going through her mind so much he felt like he was going to go mad with need. When she looked up again her expression went back to the relaxed determination it had been but Jasper swore he saw a flicker of something else cross her face.

“That’s why. You see, you think you have what it takes but you don’t,” The girl continued.

All around him Jasper could feel the air tingle with a warmth he hadn’t felt in a long time. He was very aware of the electricity that burned his skin where her hand rested on his shoulder. Its building heat caused him to forget why he even decided to do this in the first place. Maybe she was right, maybe he didn’t have what it took. But how could he give up now when he was so close to completing his mission? How could he just drop everything and go home to face his father empty handed? Jasper knew that failure couldn’t be an option. The feeling of her breath on his skin again drew him back to the conversation and he looked straight into her eyes. Paralyzed.

“Put the gun down, please,” she whispered, “you don’t have to do this.”

“How do you know that?” He whispered back as he tried to learn how to breath again. “You don’t know anything about me. How do you know that I can’t do this?”

“I can see it in your eyes. You’re a good person, you just don’t know it yourself.”

“You’re lying.”

Jasper shook his head, desperate to regain the composure he felt slowly slipping away.The girl reached her other hand up now, this time placing her palm against the side of his face. Her touch caused more electrifying heat to rush through his body and his breathing stopped again.

“Look around you. Do you really think that I’d be standing here instead of running like everyone else if I didn’t believe what I said? Maybe you can’t understand it now but you’re not bad. Someone’s just out there making you this person and you don’t deserve it. Everyone should have a chance at happiness.” The girl took a deep breath, dropping her hand from his face. Jasper could see tears start to form in the corners of her eyes. “Let go of the gun. Be the hero in your own life,” she pleaded.

Jasper blinked a couple times, his hand started to clam up around the smoothness of the rifle. He couldn’t look at her eyes anymore so instead he focused on her hair. Loose strands of red that hung limply down her back. He really wanted to believe her. Every part of him wanted to let go of the rifle and turn around and apologize but when he felt like he was ready he could hear his father’s voice. It was so loud in his ears, telling him to get on with it. Telling him how much of a disappointment he was. And it fueled the rage in him, making it curdle in his stomach. Jasper felt the bile rise in his throat and coat his tongue.

He started to flex his fingers around the butt of the rifle, gripping it tighter then he did before. The screaming in the courtyard started to come back to him. Where he felt electricity before he now only felt the stinging chill of hatred. How could he let her get into his head. He was taught better than this. She was making him weak. Jasper looked back at the girl. He wanted to engrave every detail of her face into his memories so he could remember her after he killed her. Taking a few steps backwards Jasper lifted the rifle again.

“I will shoot you,” he said, stern but not as confident as before.

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Guinevere started screaming. Her heart racing against her chest as she scrambled to the man’s side. Its sound tore its way from her throat. She smelled the blood before she saw it and the sight only caused her to scream louder. Replaying the last few minutes in her head over and over she frantically worked to stop the bleeding. The memories started to come back to her now and Guinevere knew exactly who the man was. Her eyes scanned his face while she worked on applying pressure to his head and she couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. He had gotten very handsome over the years and if the situation was different she was sure she would have imagined kindling a relationship with him. When the trial started her sophomore year she was shocked at all the wild accusations that people threw at him. They called him a monster, and said he deserved to rot in prison. However through it all people still neglected to acknowledge all the evidence that stared right at them.

It made Guinevere sick to her stomach to see people ignore the fact that he had been beat almost every night by his father. That the man who was supposed to protect him, drank his paycheck away and tried to shove his misogynistic beliefs down his son's throat. Maybe it was the fact that Guinevere saw an alarming similarity between their lives that made her feel so protective towards him. Back then she really believed he was worth saving. Believed that actions were just the equivalent of an abusive upbringing but now, now she wasn’t so sure anymore. She moved one of her hands away from the gash to his cheek, letting the warmth of his face seep into her cold body.

“What happened to you, what made you this way?” She whispered, her heart still crashing waves into her ribcage.

Suddenly, as if awoken by her voice, Jasper’s eyes shot open and he grabbed for her. His fingers curled around her wrist so tightly Guinevere gasped from the pain. His expression had changed, where there was once softness Guinevere could only see a hardness that made her want to crawl back into the safety of the shadows. He brushed her other hand off his head then pushed himself up onto his knees, effectively causing her to shrink back even further. His grip on her wrist growing tighter. Guinevere searched his eyes for something familiar and for a second thought she could see a glimmer but it was quickly replaced with the darkness. The second he was on his knees he grabbed for her throat, a movement so quick Guinevere barely had a second to process what was happening. Her hands followed his, struggling to pry his fingers from around her neck which only made him push harder. She tried to scream but the lack of airflow caused her voice to come out in broken squeaks. Guinevere could feel the blood rush to her face, it’s warmth tugging at the corners of her vision. His empty expression seared into her mind.