The Fox and the Crow

[Cicadan]

((Paris Ardennes : Pregame Start))

Paris spent a second adjusting the living room table Bible. The four corners aligned against the four corners of the table and he was satisfied with its prominence.

“Hey!

I’ll bring back dinner, Paris? What do you want?”

“You can eat out Mom, Jasmine and I will probably also eat. If you do bring anything back though we can have some kinda nice late night snack. I’m staying up late to study.”

“Alright. Love you sweetie!”

“Hah, me too! See ya, Mom.”

The front door to their condo glided shut with a smooth thump. Now all the preparations for Jasmine coming over were complete. Paris checked his phone and it was probably a few minutes until she arrived, so he sat down on a couch and sent her a text saying the front door would be unlocked.

Jasmine had first caught Paris’ eye last year. She’d had eye-catching technique during recitals in music class, when Paris paid attention it seemed her fingers had danced neatly over whatever instrument she’d been handed. This year she’d also ended up in Paris’ English and Spanish classes. They’d worked on a few projects together and talked. She was competitive in extracurricular piano performances, she was smart, she had a nice looking Tumblr too, Paris guessed. All sorts of pretty cool things, and then at some point later he’d also noticed she looked pretty good, well kempt, on top of everything else. He’d asked her out, she’d seemed pretty thrilled about that.

She’d been honest and open minded when he’d informed her about the word of the Lord, he rather liked her for that. So they’d kept going out, which surprised Paris a fair bit. He knew they were never going to kiss on anything besides the cheek or anything like that, but he’d never even gotten that far before. It felt pretty nice. But of course he had no business letting his mind drift any further down that path. He’d asked Father Hernando and he’d recommended prudence and patience, excised in His name.

He enjoyed her company. She was sharp and held herself with dignity a fair bit better than some of Paris’ other peers. She was not above judgement entirely, of course. None on this Earth were. But they were well worthy of each other’s attentions, while the going was good.

He wondered where she’d want to go out to eat. Maybe they could hit up a store at Central after, like American Apparel or Zara, and model nice looking stuff for each other. He’d thought of asking her if she wanted to model for Natali’s portfolio work someday, if he paid for it. Maybe he could ask that tonight. Maybe they could hang out in the house for a bit before they went out because they probably still had plenty of time before the dinner rush, it was a Saturday afternoon. She’d promised him she’d show her some of those shows she watched that looked kinda weird. He couldn’t remember how long ago she’d promised that, but at least now he was actually marginally interested in the offer.

His thoughts fell silent and he meditated on nothing in particular for a minute. He was sitting very still, eyes half closed, when the front door gently whistled open.

[Wham Yubeesling]

Bae ❤ ? 3/10, 4:12 PM
hey! front doors open just go on in no need to knock :^D

She had stopped a bit, when she had seen who the text was from. She had smiled. She had let the feeling of happiness and ecstasy and pure love coarse through her as she read it, feeling it surge through her body and feeling the pleasant tingling on the edge of her skin. Paris was being nice. Paris was being considerate of her. Paris had left her one of those little smilies that probably didn’t indicate that he was actually smiling but still affected her and still made her just as happy all the same. They were going to meet, she was going to his house, and they were going to have so much fun with each other. She knew that. She could feel it already. She wasn’t there yet, she still had to go across the rest of his street yet, but she was excited. She finally got to meet him outside of school. She finally got to find out what his place was like.

And believe it, she couldn’t wait.

((Jasmine King: Memories Begin))

Paris was a guy in her year. Paris was a boy in a couple of Jasmine’s classes. Paris was a person that she’d been paired together with on a number of occasions and Paris was a person she talked to because of that. He was interesting. He had an odd background. He was fairly religious, and although Jasmine was more agnostic than anything (she didn’t really think that any of the major religions she’d heard of had any credence to them, but she didn’t see any issue, she didn’t see what was wrong with making people happy) she had to admit that she had been drawn in slightly on his views on his religion. He was smart.

Not as smart as you.

But he was at the very least smarter than the majority of the other people she had to deal with. At the very least he was easier to help than the other people who she found struggling.

And at the very least, he was incredibly attractive.

Because he played sports. He had an athlete's body, and although Jasmine tried to put herself above her hormones she had to admit she wanted to be with him. Wanted to be close to his body. Wanted to hear that smooth voice of his for hours on end.

Admittedly, she liked him.

Admittedly, she wanted to be with him.

So when he’d asked her out, when he told her that he wanted to spend a Saturday afternoon having coffee with her, she had to resist the urge to kiss him right there.

And when that was over, when they were ready to go home, she’d asked if they could spend more time together. She asked if they wanted to be a couple.

And when he said yes, and when he said he loved her, she kissed him. On the cheek. Brought her arms around him and wished that time could slow to a crawl.

And now she was here. Near his house. He’d invited her over, he’d given her the number, and it was just a matter of walking around this courtyard, trying to find house number five. There it was. She was standing in front of his door. She took a breath, she felt the feeling coarse through her again, and then she opened it.

And then she saw him. Standing there. Hazel eyes. Smooth, brown hair. Athlete’s body.

She didn’t think. She didn’t hesitate.

She ran forward. Jumped. Brought her head down onto his shoulder and brought her hands around his back.

“Hey, Paris.”

[Cicadan]

Paris stood up smoothly when the door to No. 5 opened. He had a moment to get through a smile and half a nod. Jasmine looked good. She was wearing firmly cut blue jeans with a few rhinestones around the pockets and scoop necked velvet red tee where the neckline fell a little dangerously low. The skin around her nose and eyes had a healthy lighthouse glow to it.

She was running right at him and then tackling him. Paris stood firm, braced himself against the sudden body tackling into him. They collided chest to chest. Paris had to stagger a step back but he caught her weight on a well-planted ankle. Jasmine redistributed that weight into an awkward hug, her hands wrapping like bandages around the broadness of his shoulder blades. Paris hugged back but without his hands reaching as far, forearms only gently brushing right under her armpits.

“Hey,” he replied with a soft smile. He’d gotten used to how violent her greetings could sometimes get. He thought it was nice sometimes at least. Now was one of those times because she was cozy and warm like a blanket, so he lingered with his ethereal touch and presence for a few seconds.

“It hasn’t been that long since we last met, y’know,” Paris laughed teasingly. He paused for a second, inhaling in the scent of Jasmine he couldn’t escape, being so close.

“Anyways, hu.” And now he wanted a little bit of his personal space back so his arms slid away to his side, squirming like little fleshy worms. “Yeah, hasn’t been that long. Spanish after lunch, el clásico,” he said, the last few syllables said with a smooth and professional Spanish accent. “Did you text since? I haven’t seen if you did, where did you go after school? James was helping me with some homework out in the quad then I went home.” That kid’s name had been James, right, Paris was pretty sure.

“Saturday’s been lazy so far, I just helped develop photos with Mom. Nothing too dramatic. We should snap some professional photos of you sometime, I think you’d look great in them,” Paris quickly concluded with a solemn nod.

[Wham Yubeesling]

“Heeeeeeyyyyyyyyyyyy,” she said, a tone of faux sadness overtaking her voice. “It’s been a day, y’know?”

He tried to get away from her grasp. She didn’t like that. He got one arm free of her, but the other arm was soon clamped down by her arms, twice as hard. Twice as caring. Twice as loving. Admittedly she liked to touch others. Admittedly when there was someone close to her, admittedly when she felt comfortable with them, she liked making that closeness closer. Eris was the one who received the brunt of her attacks, but Rachael received her fair share as well. The two who were her friends. They were the ones she was most absolutely comfortable with. Those two were the ones she was closest to emotionally, it was only fair that she was close to them physically as well.

And of course, the same idea extended to Paris as well. He was her friend. He was more than her friend. It felt fair, it felt right, it felt good that she also doted on him. Held him. Kept him as close to her as she possibly could.

“Like, it was lonely last night,” she said, pulling his arm towards her too and fro like a rope. “Aster wasn’t there, Eris was at one of her clubs, and you didn’t respond to any of my so I didn’t have anyone to talk to.”

She pulled her face into an exaggerated frown. Brought her eyes into his so that the sorrow she wished to show would be directed right into him.

“Like, I love you, y’know? I love you and I don’t wanna be lonely so I want to be with you and…”

A pause. She giggled. Pulled his arm towards him again.

“I don’t really know. I’m just happy we got to do this.”

She smiled. Showed him her teeth. Moved her arms down, slightly, so that she was only holding his hand.

“And yeah, I’d love to,” she said, replying to what he said about taking photos. “I need new pictures for my social media, and it’d mean I’d be able to spend more time with you, so, um…”

She giggled again. Toppled forward, slightly.

“Can we sit down?”

[Cicadan]

She trapped him again and she was holding on tighter. Paris squirmed a bit more, then stopped. He accepted that he wasn’t escaping anytime soon. He accepted that fate, but he didn’t tighten up his embrace of her like she had. His arms stayed where they belonged, only gently draped over her back.

“Fine, it has been a while. Isn’t patience supposed to be a virtue though?” He exaggerated a smile over his lips in response to her clearly theatrical pouting and complaining. She was in theater class or something like that. That was probably why she was able to make her expressions so intense. Paris thought it was pretty neat, how her emotions shone through clear and strong like that. It wasn’t his sort of thing. It was something pretty different.

“I was busy,” he admitted. “Gotta put in the work to stay smart, right?” Jasmine liked things he phrased like that. ‘Play smart’. ‘Work hard’. ‘Be tough’. Paris could get her going with a statement along those lines and a stupid little smile, whenever they studied together and Paris wanted her to do a bit extra of the work. He guessed that was one of the benefits of being intimately close with someone.

“Sucks that the other guys weren’t around though. You should have asked me, I could have called over one of my free friends to hang out with you a bit.”

The next act in her little play was a big frown. Some big words like ‘I love you’ as well. Paris didn’t hesitate to respond:

“Love you too.” He smiled easily, softly, though he wasn’t quite sure if ‘love’ meant the same thing to Jasmine as it meant to himself. He let her drag him in a bit closer, readjusted his hand so it was enveloping hers when they were just connected by that chaste touch. She asked for a seat. Paris saw nothing wrong with that. She pushed into him a bit with her upper body, he loosened his stance by the hips so he could stagger a bit backwards with her. Dancey and step by step. They got closer to the couch by the second.

“Upload them up to your Tumblr, yeah? You get a ton of likes whenever you do selfies, reblogs too. All that good stuff. So imagine how popular professional shots would be. You’d probably have to remind your followers you’re taken,” he laughed.

He could feel his butt touching down on the couch cushions. He incidentally provided a cradle for Jasmine to fall into.

“I’ll talk to Natali about it soon. But for now we should find something to do. Maybe something to watch or read, so you can rest a bit before we head out.”

[Wham Yubeesling]

“It might, but you know that I’m a bad girl, right?”

She giggled. Felt the air in her throat contract as it forced itself through, bit by pleasant bit. She was laughing. She didn’t really know why. It wasn’t as if Paris had said anything particularly funny, it wasn’t as if Paris was trying to make her laugh, but she couldn’t help it. It was as if there was an aura around Paris. One that controlled Jasmine. One that made her notice just how cute he was and just how perfect his body was and just how smooth his voice was. Just how good he was with words. It was infatuation. It was love. It was just being around him and it was just being happy and it was just the fact that she was with him, here and now. Now and forever, if Jasmine had a say in it.

And she couldn’t stop giggling, as they danced. Moved along to the music of silence as Paris pushed the two of them to the couch. He fell first. He sat himself down. She followed. She fell, and she used that time to place herself into exactly the position she wanted to be.

Right next to him.

Left hand on chest.

Right hand across his back.

Head on his shoulder.

And she smiled. She stopped giggling. She didn’t have to look into his eyes. She was with Paris. She was happy.

And she didn’t need to move.

“Yeah, that’ll be great,” she said. “Honestly, the thing I wanna do most is talk to you, though.”

[Cicadan]

She giggled a bunch in a pleasant tone, then settled against Paris’ chest in an awkward spreading of herself. Interestingly enough she was clinging onto him like a simian would dangle from a tree. Paris didn’t know how he’d remembered that particular bit of information from wherever he’d learned it, sixth grade biology, maybe.

He shifted a bit. His thighs clapped together tight and snug so she wouldn’t sink any further down. His neck straightened out so his cheek wasn’t too close to her head, or it could get too close or too hot or something else.

“That’s what a lot of people say,” Paris admitted, light humor in his tone. “I mean there’s gotta be other people in this world also worth talking to. As much as me.” Paris didn’t necessarily know that was true though. He was just throwing it out there for the sake of doing so.

“Have you heard anything from that new Pentatonix album?” Paris settled on a topic at random. “Apparently it’s mostly original songs. Their voices are still pretty good but then I don’t know so much about the composition itself.”

He couldn’t really reach for anything, his mobility was restricted by a body laid half on top of his own. The remote to the TV and the Bible would be hard to grab off the table.

“Could you grab, uh…” Paris trailed off, curious to see which thing on the table Jasmine would actually grab if he vaguely nodded his chin towards them. “Anyways. I’ve just been holed up listening to a bunch of albums recently. Trying to get up my play-from-ear skill a bit, so that I can someday be in the same ballpark as you there.” Yep, for now Jasmine was doubtlessly the superior musician. Technically, at least.

[Wham Yubeesling]

“Not right now, there isn’t,” she said, as she looked into his eyes and gave him a smile. It felt weird. It felt nice. She knew she didn’t need to smile, she knew that the both of them felt good enough already, but she still felt as if she had to do it? She still felt as if he had to know she was happy with him? It didn’t really bother her that much, but it was something to think about. An aspect of being in love that she didn’t really think about before. Smiling. Being happy. Not having to worry about grades not having to think about all the schoolwork she had not needing to be annoyed at how she never got anything she deserved not having to hear that pesky voice at the back of her head because she was here. She was with Paris, and she was happy.

“And no, I haven’t.” Sadly. She knew that Pentatonix was a band that Paris had seemed to like, but given all the stuff she had to deal with - all the homework, all the people she needed to keep track of - she hadn’t had the time to listen. “I swear I’ll listen to it tonight, though. Just for you.”

The complement - Paris saying that she was the better musician - was also appreciated. To tell the truth her ability to play by ear wasn’t perfect, to tell the truth she still had to try and find the notes on her piano or violin after listening, but at least Paris liked her talent. At least Paris thought she was good at it.

And honestly, that was all that mattered to Jasmine, right now. She rubbed her head on his shoulder. Smiled. Showed her appreciation of that comment to him.

“And sure, um…” Jasmine said, looking at the table below them. “What do you want me to grab?”

[Cicadan]

Paris smiled back pretty casually.

“That’s true. Just for now, cause. If you had to pick between me or your group of friends-” whatever their names were, “to sit with in the cafeteria I bet you’d pick your friends.”

Jasmine continued to exist rather close to his body. The particles of her hair meshed onto the fabric of his sleeve. American Apparel, he’d bought it two or three months ago. It was a pretty cool shirt, his Mom had given him the thumbs up when he’d shown her. Paris shifted a bit, laying back with his back over the couch cushions so they both had a bit more room or at least he did.

“We can listen to it now, I’ve got Spotify on the TV as well. Or we can watch something, or y’know, whatever.” She still wasn’t actually grabbing something from the table though. “We could say a quick prayer before we settle down,” Paris said confidently.

[Wham Yubeesling]

“You can always just come along during lunchtimes and sit with my group,” she said. “We don’t sit in the cafeteria, anyway.”

And that would really be the best of both worlds, wouldn’t it? It’d mean she’d be with Eris, it’d mean she’d be with Rachael, it’d mean she’d be with the friends who she cared about and the friend’s she appreciated the company of but it’d also mean she’d be with the boy she liked. The boy she wanted to be with. The boy who made her happy the boy who kept her worries away the boy who made it so that she didn’t have to be better than anyone else. She wanted to be with both. She wanted to be happy with both. It wasn’t as if that was a bad answer - it was entirely reasonable. It was something possible. It was something that she knew Paris would be happy to do.

So she knew what her answer was to that choice.

She knew what answer she had to the other choice Paris just proposed to her. After taking a second’s pause, after allowing herself to be hugging Paris for a moment longer, she stood up. Picked up the remote from the table. She didn’t really know what Spotify was like, she didn’t know that it could be on a TV, so that was what interested her more. She picked it up. Turned around. Saw Paris sitting there, body open, leaning back into the couch.

Hmmm…

Did she want to do that?

Well, she didn’t see a problem with it, so…

She took the step back to the couch, right in front of him. Turned around. Sat on his legs. Leaned her back into his chest. Felt the warmth of his body almost all around her.

“Hey, can I do this?”

[Cicadan]

“Yeah, that’s right,” Paris mused. He’d forgotten Jasmine’s friends didn’t usually sit in the cafeteria like he did. They did other things with their time, and Paris supposed he could have hung out with them more. And other people and all that. He had friends who hung out all over the school.

Jasmine skipped the Bible. Paris had expected that. So he spent a few silent moments still leaning back with his hands steepled, palms pressed together so they rested on his breastbone. Then Jasmine came back suddenly, so his hands were half trapped and sandwiched between her back and his front. He let his hands press and dig into his own body so the warmth of her skin wouldn’t mix up into his too much.

“Uh, sure. But move a bit so I can see the TV better.”

He craned his neck so he could get a better angle.

“... Yeah, it’s that one. Essentially that remote controls my Mom’s laptop, see?” It was next to the TV, plugged in and open.

[Wham Yubeesling]

“Oh, right, sure.”

She leaned a little to her left. Brought her head back so that it teetered on the edge of his shoulder. She felt comfortable. She felt warm. She felt good. Paris’ body felt just like it did whenever she hugged him. It didn’t feel soft, it didn’t feel cushiony, but it felt good, anyway. Soft. Warm. Comfy. She liked this. It hadn’t really been something that she’d done before and it wasn’t really something that she could do all the time but it felt good. Nice. Admittedly she wished he was hugging her right now, admittedly she wished he could moved his hands to a place where they weren’t spiking her back, but this was fine. This was good. This made her happy.

She brought one of her hands out. Let the remote hang in it for Paris to take. She knew that she could probably operate it herself but she thought that if he took the remote then he would take his hands out from behind her.

And he did. He took the remote, clicked the button, and as sound began to fill the room, she tilted her head back further and landed her lips on his skin. Kissed him. Smiled, as her head turned back to the front.

Today was going to be fantastic.

She knew that already.

[Cicadan]

Jasmine’s lips had a teddy bear fluff texture to them when they dusted against his nose. Weird.

---

She’d stayed attached to him for a pretty long time but eventually they’d gotten up to go to Central. Central’s big concrete facade looked more impressive at night than it actually was, when the streetlamp tones were hiding the flakes of peeling paint and rain weathering.

They entered through big doors into a sparsely populated section of the mall.

“Wonder if anyone’s going to be staying in Denton after they graduate?” It was an idle question Paris asked while not knowing there was any good answer.

---

Central didn’t have too much in the way of good mid-tier brands and usually Paris would travel to NYC with his Mom to go clothes shopping. Somehow against all odds there was an Armani Exchange so Paris had led them in. He was flicking a hand of fingers through a tall rack of women’s one-piece dresses, brushing each different dress aside one by one. The price tags were intimidating but Jasmine and Paris probably weren’t buying anything anyways, just browsing and trying on stuff. Paris already had a few nice cut pants and polos to model, slung over his free arm. Paris’ other hand stopped at one dress in particular. Lots of spaghetti-like straps and stuff. Probably showed off a bit too much shoulder.

He glanced at Jasmine, wherever she was, eyebrows raised and half shrugging.

[Wham Yubeesling]

Jasmine, if she had to be honest, was not that much of a clothes person.

She wasn’t entirely sure if she had a particular reason for that. For the most part, they just didn’t really interest her all that much. She could appreciate the way she looked sometimes, she could think that a dress she saw while window shopping looked cute, but she felt that there were better uses of her time. Better uses of her money. Beauty faded after time, and honestly, how much did she need beauty right now? She had found her one, she had found that the person she was in love with already loved her back, so why did she need to waste the money she had on looking prettier than she had to? She had Paris. Paris had her. What she had now was all she needed.

And the best thing is, he went to you. You got him without even needing to lift a finger. You didn’t have to be like Felicia. You didn’t have to be like Clio. You didn’t have to practically hop on his dick just to get him to like you.

No.

He thought you were good enough already.

You don’t have to look pretty. You don’t have to try.

You’ve already got the most attractive guy in this school.

You’re already better.

And as much of a waste it was, as little money the two of them had, shopping with Paris was fun. They talked. They laughed. They looked at the clothes on sale. They weren’t going to buy much, if any - Jasmine had elected not to bring any money with her today - but they could windowshop. They could enjoy what H&M had to offer. They were walking down one of the main paths of the store, piles of clothes in each of their arms. They were heading to the changing rooms. They decided that they had picked up enough for now and it was getting kinda heavy, so they’d put some of them on. See how they looked. Give Paris a couple ideas of how to model her.

And admittedly, she liked that possibility. Admittedly, she liked to look good sometimes. Admittedly, she would want to show herself off in front of Paris. In front of the boy she loved. In front of his camera.

Yeah.

That’d be nice.

Even if she already felt good now, she had to admit, it would be nice to feel good in the future.

She took a few steps to the side. Made herself slightly closer to Paris. Smiled as she looked at him.

“So what made you first notice me?”

[Cicadan]

“You’re cool. Competent, the sort of ‘I win’ attitude that catches the eye.” Paris nodded. “Yep, that’s it exactly. Oh, that and you didn’t get mad when I shared my faith with you like other girls do. That’s a huge plus.” He did appreciate that in particular.

Paris smiled back at her, shrugged as he shoved the dress he’d been holding back to the rack. “Your sense of fashion also helps.” Sometimes questionable but credit where credit was due, when it was due. Paris was smirking mischievously. “I mean you’ve seen the weird stuff people consider trends nowadays. You’re not that kind of person,” Paris explained. His hand idly wandered to the next dress over. Then he abandoned the entire rack. The clothes he planned to try on were still on his arm and now he was walking to the dressing rooms, his back faced to her but his face tilted back over his shoulder.

“Coming?” He pivoted his neck back around so he could see where he was going.