future!jasper para please?
there was once a young man who boarded a plane with reluctance, clutching the promise of entering his dream school tightly in his hands. but in the back of his mind were whispers of hope, of an opportunity for him to become someone he never was.
āsophisticated. social. charming.ā
a year later he was getting off a plane once again, and so much of him was the same. he still went to bed reading scientific articles, data about electrical circuits and galactic phenomenons spinning around his brain as he fell asleep. he still practiced his decoysĀ and windmills in chess, still signed into his virtual account every week. and if he were to be honest, he still didnāt like social events, or engaging in conversations with strangers. he would never be like his older brother, with charm coating his words, knowing the exact way he has to act in all circumstances.
and yet so much of him had changed. he was not the sheltered boy he had once been, scared of going past the doorframe of the world he only knew from books, from his computer, from the view of his window. if you sat down with him and he felt comfortable enough, he would tell you stories of camels and alligators and landscapes covered in sand. of almost getting lost in immense airports and tripping during train rides and getting on a boat and being able to see everything at the bottom of sea. (all of this punctuated with a couple of facts with its sources double-checked, of course.)
he would tell you about the friends he made. about opening up. about letting people in. about the calls he makes to people around the world. lina, who doesnāt always answer, but always calls back. will, to whom he tries to explain the newest theory about gravitational waves and the latest superhero movie that just came out. izzy, to whom he always promises chocolate bars for the next time they meet. lissa, with whom calls last forever, but are somehow never long enough. and all the flights he boards to meet with everyone he can.
but there are things he would not tell you. about one girl who came back from the dead. about others who did not. about being taken and stuck in between four walls. about black eyes and heartbreak. about guns and blood and things that should only ever be contained in scary movies and thriller novels. about the way he always keeps a window open now. at least a little bit. (when everythingās closed it feels a little bit like he canāt breathe. like heās stuck. like there are people keeping him from getting out.) about the way he holds her close at night, and reaches out to touch her cheek every morning. just to make sure sheās there. just to make sure sheās not going anywhere. about the times heās up late, staring at the screen without seeing any words in front of him, only flashing faces of people who left for good. about the private plane he catches to bring flowers to peopleās graves. the way he clutches her hand as he reads their names. (he walks around for a while to give her some time alone with themā with him. but he always finds his way back to her. because once upon a time she found her way back to him.)
there was once a young man who got off a plane the same, but transformed nonetheless, clutching onto the promise of new beginnings. in the back of his mind were whispers of hope, of people he could call family, of an opportunity for him to become everything he could be, and already was.
dailybridgerton
2087
jacobvanloon
dededos
theartofmadeline
origamiaround
