*So I finally finished my Camp NaNoWriMo story, which hopefully means I will get more time to focus on my ff. I had some trouble with thinking of inspiration when my beautiful friend, Imagine your OTP on Tumblr, gave me some really amazing prompts. They say I could use the ideas to my leisure; I just have to cite them (as I am doing so now.) This is for them! And probably, I'll only be posting on weekends, just saying. Thanks for reading my ff.*
"Hey Jasper," Race screeches to the top of our tree. "Are you still crying about that thing last night?" He asks, climbing up to where we are. I grumble a bit and resist the urge to knock him out with an apple, but he's already in the tree, and why should I improve his looks?
"What thing last night?" I ask, knowing if Race knows it can't be good.
"You're a girl, can't tell you," he sneers.
"Well, aren't you being a little sexist twit?" I sass.
"There are things a lady should know and should not know." Race sneers, "One of the things ladies should not know is how male puberty works."
"Oh come on," I mutter, "You gave Jasper a puberty talk?"
"Never said that," he cuts in.
"Whatever," Jasper and I mutter in sync.
"So what are you guys doing later?" Race asks, lighting his cigar.
"Race," I scold, "how many times do I have to tell you, if you do that, you'll burn down the tree?"
"And how many times did I light my cigar and not burn the tree?" he sasses.
"Race leave," Jasper says, knocking him out of the tree. He's half cat or something because he lands on his feet and balances instantly. He catches on to this and I think he hisses at me when I stick my tongue out at him.
"So what happened last night?" I ask as Jasper ducks his head.
"Got into a little fight last night," he mutters.
"Thanks for lying to me," I say rolling my eyes. I take his hand and put my head on his shoulder.
"It would just be so easy," he whispers. "Not being here."
"Yea, no one really cares if we'd disappear," I mutter, mostly to myself.
"I'd care if you disappeared without me," Jasper smiles.
"Who said I'd go alone?" I sweetly smile, caressing his hand, "Hey Jasper, why would you want to not get married here?"
"Because it's the city, it's always loud and some people are just…." He starts.
"Like Race?" I smirk.
"Yea, like Race." He smiles.
"Now who's like me?" Race shouts to where we are.
"Race," I shout, "leave."
"Whatever," he retorts, walking away slowly. We wait about five minutes before we start talking again.
"If we run away, promise me we won't ever look back, okay?" He whispers, "I don't want to remember my life without you."
"I promise," I smile, reaching up to kiss his cheek as I jump down. Wordlessly, we jump down the tree and decide to have lunch somewhere.
"You pick," Jasper says in a playful tone.
"Maybe you should pick, you're the man." I comment.
"Ladies first," he insists.
"I picked last time," I smile.
"Fine then, what do you want?" he argues.
"I want you to pick where we're going for lunch." I sass.
"I'm trying," he laughs as we walk to a flower cart and snags a blue rose as I gush.
"Oh great," I laugh; "now I have to ask Sketch or Hype what it means." I am meat with a confused look as he urges me to continue. "Okay, so like apparently, Hype told me one time that each flower or herb or plant thing has a special meaning. Sketch also added that Shakespeare had references to the flowers in his work. Apparently, The language of flowers is really big in France right now so…" I trail off, twirling the stem of the rose with my thumb and index finger.
"Oh okay," he says, smirking at me, and I know what's coming next. "So, where you want to go to lunch?"
"I have no idea," I smile, "but thank you for the rose."
"You're welcome, but I'm starving so where should we go for lunch?" he says, taking my free hand and guiding me in the direction back to Central Park.
"So, you want to go to Battery Park? It's closer to the lodging house anyways. Central is about half an hour and Battery is about a quarter of an hour."
"How many parks do we know off?" I laugh, "there's Central, Battery, Washington State Park and in Brooklyn, Prospect."
"Well, it's nice to know we have options, but I'm still kind of hungry." Jasper says, kissing my cheek.
"Oh come on, let's just go to my house, we have leftovers from last night." I say, dragging him to the steps of the apartment a few blocks away. I unlock the door and notice Dad's not here, probably passing time in a bar. And yet, he always comes home sober. I go to the kitchen and throw tubs of food on the table; blackberries, blueberries, cherries, and a small tub of cake and a bunch of plastic wrapped sandwiches. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Jasper pick up the small container of cake and eat it with his fingers. He smiles cheekily as I turn around.
"It's good," he testifies as he takes out more with his hands.
"It's mine," I say, taking it from him and telling him to wash his hands. He sighs and obeys as I secretly slip a chunk into my mouth and almost gag. I lead him into the main room with a large bundle of food in my arms as we sit on the floor, silent for a few minutes as we both try to think of conversations.
"So," I say hesitantly, "if we have a child, what color would their nursery or room be? I don't want to be traditional, saying blue is for boys and pink is for girls." Jasper chews timidly on a ham sandwich while thinking.
"We could have a zoo theme," he swallows, "paint the room green and fill it with stuffed animals. It's good for if we have a boy or a girl."
"If we have a second a few years later, we could put in a day bed." I suggest, taking a bite from a salad I found. "The nursery could double as a guest room if needed and I could sleep in there if the baby's fussy that night and hard to put down."
"We can paint oversized stripes and make one wall look like the front of a newspaper, "Jasper blurts out. I nod happily at the idea as I conjure up more of my own.
"I want a boy," I say dreamily, "then in that way, he could beat up anyone that made my little girl cry."
"That's a good idea," Jasper points out, taking the food we didn't eat and outing it back. I stay in the main room as I hear some bizarre noises coming from the kitchen. I take one glance and see Jasper lying on the floor with an overturned chair and the vase on the table containing the rose on its side, water spilling over the edge, dripping onto Jasper's shirt. I rush over to him and help him up, unable to hide my smile.
"I fell?" he asks, must have hit the ground pretty hard with what I could hear in the main room.
"Your clumsy," I laugh, pulling him up on his feet. We clean up the kitchen as I put more water in the vase.
"I'm not clumsy," he objects, "really, it's just that the floor hates me, the table and chairs were being bullies and the counter got in the way." I roll my eyes and kiss his cheek as we go back to the main room, discussing the future child of us. It feels right, I think, feels good. It feels like cloud nine.