Ariadne looked like an angel. This much she had been assured by Wally as he sat at the end of her bed, shirt artfully rumpled, watching as she teased fluffy curls into her bright blonde hair with a curling wand. Her outfit had been pulled from the back of her closet, and prior to that, had been lifted from the wardrobe department of an amateur production of Macbeth. She'd been the understudy to a Lady Macbeth clad in virginal white (an ambitious and divisive wardrobe choice), bell sleeves trailing across the stage as she delivered a monologue Ariadne knew by heart and hadn't gotten to give. She'd taken the dress as payment for services not rendered, and shorn the bottom of the skirt till it hugged her thighs.
She'd started the night looking lovely, the envy of every beautiful girl and boy pining after her date for the night. They were unaware he was lovesick for another blonde, although Ariadne wasn't sure if this was her kind of party. Sullivan May certainly wouldn't be caught dead standing on a street corner at the end of the night, red wine splattered down one side of her dress like so much gore.
Ariadne had kissed Wally goodbye and fished around in the bottom of her bag for her phone, enough alcohol in her system to justify calling Jasper. She'd found herself smiling despite herself as she yelled down the phone, that gorgeous accent flooding her with warmth as he promised to come and get her. Lovely, loyal, gorgeous Jasper.
The click-clack sound of her boots against the pavement sped up as she saw Jasper's car in the distance. No longer feeling the cold, she rounded the side of the car and tapped her nails against the glass playfully, catching sight of Jasper in the driver’s seat. She gave the handle an almighty tug, still fighting with the thing when suddenly, Jasper was beside her.
"Oh, hello." she greeted, giggling as he leaned over to jimmy the car door open. For a split second, she'd thought he was actually leaning in to hug her, and she swept her arms upwards in a half-aborted movement, the misunderstanding heightening her fit of giggles when the door swung free.
"Thank you, darling." she chirped, sliding into the passenger seat. She'd never been in Jasper's car before, but she already decided she liked it. Ariadne let her eyes slide shut for a moment, imagining all the times Professor Kent had sat where she sat, the two of them driving to work together, drinking tea and discussing fine literature. A dopey smile crossed her face. It was sickening how badly she wanted to be their friends - both of them. She really was a teacher's pet.
Her eyes flew open as the car door beside her shut, and Jasper retook his place at the wheel. It was only now she was able to get a proper look at him. Gone was the well worn Professor's garb, replaced by a plain tee and a soft-looking Jasper, stubble creeping in around his jaw. How was it possible that he looked even better dressed down?
"I spilled my drink." she pouted, hitching up the stained skirt of her dress around her thighs, displaying the damage for all to see. "And after that, the party got very dull very quickly."
She reached out, hand finding Jasper's forearm and closing around it, the tips of her acrylics just kissing his skin.
"I don't want my roommate to see me like this." she said, "Even though she's probably too busy boning her skinny boyfriend. I just wanted somewhere... someone to sober up with."
It was really bloody hard not to stare, but Jasper was giving it a good old college try. His gaze lifted upward, eyes trailing towards the night sky as he stared at the rotten, light-polluted expanse of it. There wasn’t a star to be seen. Towering skyscrapers and the glow of streetlamps cast an unwanted glare across the city, destroying the natural beauty of the dazzling constellations with its ugly, artificial light. But he supposed it was probably still better than staring at Ariadne and the way her dress fell just shy of her bottom, barely exposing her as she bent forward to slide into the passengers seat of his car. Â
As he made his way around the car, it gave him a moment’s reprieve to catch his breath. He inhaled the rank city air, the fumes from his car leaving a sour taste as he exhaled once more before climbing into the driver’s seat. With his hands wrapped firmly around the steering wheel, Jasper focused on reversing out of the spot he’d pulled into, his foot gently tapping the gas pedal as he carefully got them out onto the road again.Â
“Ah, you don’t strike me as the clumsy type,” Jasper noted, if only for something to say.Â
On cue, he glanced to his side, stealing a quick glance at her sodden dress. He’d been expecting to catch a stain across her front or along her sleeve, only to feel his stomach flip as she lifted the hem of it entirely, exposing her thighs to him. Jasper’s throat constricted as he felt himself grow tighter elsewhere, too, a bottomless pit of shame seeming to open up inside of him.Â
For a second, as he sat there with his hands on the wheel, eyes on the road, he couldn’t help but think of Benjamin. It was hard not to think that the two of them – Benji and Ari – were like two peas in a pod, sent down to earth to make Jasper’s life exponentially more difficult. With the rate that the two of them seemed to taunt and tease him, unyielding in their flirting, he wondered if it was a bit of a game to them both. Perhaps they were trying to see just how long it might take to break him completely?Â
Jasper flinched, surprised as he felt the touch of Ari’s hand against his arm. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling, not by a long shot, but he hadn’t been expecting it. He shot her another glance, this time offering up a sheepish smile, his cheeks tinged pink.Â
“Sorry. Cold hands,” he laughed breathily, only a half-truth.Â
It was only when Ariadne spoke that it occurred to him he didn’t know where he was taking her. He’d simply been driving, almost on instinct; the familiar streetlamps guiding him back to his own apartment. It was muscle memory, he supposed, though he suddenly found it hard to imagine Ariadne in his little flat. They were well on their way now, though, and he simply nodded, respecting her request. If she didn’t want to go home, it wouldn’t be fair to make her. He’d take care of her until she was ready.Â
“You can come back to mine,” he reassured her, fingers tapping nervously at the edge of the wheel.Â
He fell quiet for a moment, letting apartment complexes and night clubs flash past them in a blurry haze. In answering Ariadne’s call, he’d wanted to do the right thing in helping her, but now he wondered if he’d simply been playing with fire. What possible good could it do to have a woman like her in his apartment? She’d been clear in her intentions more times than once.Â
Now seemed like as good a time as any to set some boundaries, to make it clear to her that there’d be no funny business.Â
“I’ll get you a t-shirt to change into, something to cover up that stain,” was, in fact, the idiotic sentence he settled on instead.Â
