like a {moth} to a flame // gasper; dars

The thick fabric of Gavin's sweater weighed heavy against his shoulders, and the deep blue color of the fabric looked almost black in the closing day's last bit of light. Both he and Harley sat in the kitchen, Gavin lazily sitting on the counter as Harley cleaned the dishes. (Harley was always better at doing housework or any work, for that matter) As they bickered about which of them had caused Rory's explosion earlier, Gavin tried not to cave in and admit it was his fault- even though it was. He hadn't meant anything by it, just a harmless comment that happened to catch him off guard. Even as he said the words, he had a feeling in his gut he was going to regret them- and he should have listened to it. Really, though, it was true. He'd only said Rory had no life because he didn't. He could sit there and talk about how it was only because he'd given it all up to care for all of the other people living in the house all he wanted, it wasn't true. He was just afraid. Gavin couldn't afford to be afraid, ever. In order to get the life he wanted, he had to be brave. To stay strong.

Obviously, he'd managed to convince Harley that his forgetting to clean the house had caused Rory's anger, and so the conversation was eventually drowned into silence by the tree limbs tapping the window's shiny surface. Before too long, Harley announced that he was sleepy, and headed up stairs to sleep. Finally. Gavin loved his brother, hell, he loved all of his siblings, but he couldn't stand lying to them. Not about little things like arguments, but about the things that would easily sever the small string that held their home together. Like that he planned to volunteer for the games as soon as he could. To show Julian that he had what it took to win as well. The memory of him and the short boy standing inches from each other as he clawed at Gavin's reassurance as if they were garbage. So he could see Klaus again. Things had happened so fast between them, and he was just gone. So suddenly, taken. Then again, leaving was a thing he knew all about. He was never going to get over the pain, because it lingered to his very core, but he had to learn how to at least cope with it all.

For the longest time, he let it build inside him until he ended up exploding, and causing things around the house to get even worse, but really that caused more damage than help, so he'd taken up sneaking into the woods when he could, and mangling anything his hatchets could find. At least it was never people. At least he had found something that could keep his head clear, without hurting the ones he loved. There were some things that never got out of him, though. There were a few things that seemed to implant themselves in him and refuse to budge. They followed him everywhere, putting themselves on him like a cloak. A few of them even climbed into his head and messed with his dreams. The strangest thing was that he had absolutely no idea why these why these were the things that seemed so important to his subconscious. Or, really, why he seemed so intriguing to him.

Jasper shouldn't have even been in his head at all, certainly not be the main object of his dreams or a large amount of his thought process. Something about the doe eyed boy that needed his help had sunk it's teeth into him and refused to let go. His fingers reached into the bowl sitting in his lap and pulled out a carrot covered in ranch, and he nibbled at it for a few seconds before hopping down from the counter, and walking into the living room. At first, he only hummed the sweet lyrics that had become his best work so far- and then a slight mumble, and before long, he was singing. Soft angelic whispers turned into harmonious shouts, reaching into the quiet air and enchanting it. His song was nearly over when he heard a noise from the front of the house. Footsteps.

He was already headed to the door before the it screamed with alarm as a fist slammed into it, and he pulled it back rather slowly, which was more than he thought he could do when he saw who was standing on his porch. His hair was dancing in the wind- much like it had the first time Gavin found him, but this time he wasn't in nearly as sickly looking. Still rather pale, but not shaking and coughing and begging for help. Gavin clenched his jaw to keep it from falling ajar, and drew a shaky breath into his lungs. Why was he here this time? The weather outside was far too nice to have done any damage to him, and Gavin's house wasn't exactly on the way to or from anywhere. Actually, it was in the middle of nowhere.

He forced a smile on his lips as the boy offered a timid greeting. "Hey Jasper.." He said, mocking his curious but light tone. He spared a quick glance behind him to make sure nobody saw Jasper except for him- and if they did, if they were wondering why in the hell he was here as much as Gavin was. He hadn't really told them about Jasper staying the night, or running out before he'd even woken up. But mainly because nobody asked. Most of them were still asleep anyway, so it didn't really make much sense to tell them. He leaned his head against the wooden frame, and squinted to see the boy in the dark light. He was going to find out why Jasper was here. Now.

There was still a knot in his throat when he turned so that the boy could come inside his home for the second time, and he wondered if this time would be different from the last. Gavin was a fool for love, so infatuated with the idea of it all that he latched on to anything that served as a beacon of the affection he craved as much as air. Jasper was his beacon. When the fragile boy walked passed him, he tried to ignore the scents of ginger and smoke that radiated from him, because he was supposed to be angry with him. (Or was he?) Jasper left. Gavin saved him, brought him back from the dead more or less, and offered him a place to say, something to eat. He had done everything he could for the frozen boy, but it ended up not being enough, because Jasper left as soon as he could the next morning and didn't even bother saying goodbye.

Still, Gavin felt conflict arise from within him. Sure, it had stung that there was no gratitude from his actions, but was it really his place to be upset with the boy? He barely even knew him, couldn't even recall his last name, in fact, but that didn't stop the ache in his heart or the sick feeling that twisted his stomach into knots. "So, what is it you needed to talk to me about?" He asked as he closed the large wooden door behind him. It shut with a thud, and he crossed his arms over his chest, trying his hardest to act indifferent, but the conflict of being glad to see him, which was surprisingly strange to him, and of being angry with him did a fair job of balancing his emotions already. He flipped a few stray curls of dark hair out of his face and stared at Jasper, his mossy green eyes watched, and he was both eager and anxious to hear what he had to say.

"Is it about you running out the other morning?" It was an accident, and he regretted saying the words just as soon as they left his mouth and cut through the otherwise silent air like blades. But it didn't change the fact that he did want the answer. Why had he left in such a hurry? Did something happen? Was there somewhere he had to be, or perhaps someone he had to be with? Or was it was Gavin really thought it was- that he got what he needed from him and then split in order to avoid an awkward thank-you? "Or, well, not really running out," He lied. "But is it about you leaving?"