Couch Potatoes (J)

Surprisingly, she was relaxing.

Some days, it was hard to get her to enjoy a movie, the pressure of her job putting her in distress. It wasn’t like the anxiety my sister got before taking one foot outside the house. More like the knowledge that while she enjoyed the film, she could theoretically be working on her music. I’d been helping her work on that, though, and her couch time was the fruit of my efforts.

“What are you doing home so early?” I asked.

“EEP!” Even her squeaks were adorable. “H-hi, Jasper.”

I got the feeling that she wasn’t quite used to the whole ‘living together’ thing. It was fine sometimes—mostly when she let me hold her in bed, but at others she was just adorably bashful. I remembered the other night when she’d caught me coming out of the shower. I’d been amused as her eyes explored me, the bits of water I had failed to capture dropping to the floor. I’d watched her face flame as she saw me in that towel. Her mind catching up, she’d squealed before running back into her studio. I didn’t see her for a few hours after that, but the memory of her so flustered still had me smiling.

“God, you’re so pretty,” she whispered.

“Not half as much as you are,” I replied.

I sat next to her. “So what brings you to the couch today?”

As expected, she huddled against me like I was the only sun that could keep her warm. She was always like that, cloaking me in her starlight. I watched her eyes light up as she told me about her day. My Sky shined with passion as she spoke. She was so beautiful like that: smile bold, hands drumming on her leg in excitement. So entrancing was she that I almost missed her next words.

“He said it was my best performance yet!” Her smile said it all.

“Awesome!” I said, truly happy for my girl. “Does this mean there will be more couch time in the future?”

“Like for a movie?”

“Maybe,” I said. “Or we could just sit here for a while. I have to say, the view is pretty nice.”

“Yeah, I guess. . .”

That wasn’t the response I respected. Had I done something to bother her? No—if I had, she wouldn’t be talking to me at all. Was I making her uncomfortable with my flirting? Of course not—we’d flirted yesterday, for fuck’s sake! The best thing to do would be asking her, but what if that made it worse? Mentally rolling my eyes at myself, I smiled at her gently.

“You alright, Moonlight?”

“Of course, Sunshine.” She smiled at me and I knew we were okay.

See, brain? Shut the fuck up, will you?

But my Sky was still frowning, and I wasn’t sure how to make it okay. I could make her favorite food for dinner, but that was an idea for later. I should do something to make her smile. I can’t write poetry, so that’s out. I would tell her how pretty she is, but I’d already tried that. While I was thinking, I opted to run my fingers up and down her arms. Eventually, my wandering touch landed on her neck, her head leaning back with a beautiful sigh. A wicked grin arrived as I ran my nails around the area in circles. Her breathing quickened, the air around us becoming charged with anticipation. I struck quickly, my hands gliding around rapidly until I finally heard the noise I was hoping for.

Laughter.

“Jasper!” she choked out between giggles. “Stop ti-ickling me!”

I was relentless, drawing every bit of giddiness from my radiant girlfriend. Her gasps were music to my ears, and her grin was the best medicine I’d ever had. Eventually, she called mercy and I released her. I allowed myself to be swallowed by her loveliness as she caught her breath. I was sure I looked like a fool the way I stared at her: eyes unfocused, the dumbest grin on my face. But Grace just stared back at me, her hand reaching behind her.

Click!

They’d found us. I just knew that was it as I froze, completely unprepared. My vision was cast aside as my mind raced. I knew I should have locked the door! But I’d checked so many times, so maybe this wasn’t that? Yet as I waited, none of that happened, and my vision cleared to see Grace with a grin on her face, camera in hand.

“When did you get that?” I asked, doing an excellent job of hiding the fit my brain had just had.

“The store,” she responded cheerily. “I thought it’d be nice to get some payback.”

“Payback?”

“On the paparazzi,” she explained, handing me one. “Those assholes aren’t the only ones who can take pictures.”

In all these weeks of hounding wolves in human clothing, I’d never considered revenge. Since I couldn’t hurt them without getting arrested, the cameras just seemed like a fact of life. Like employment and family dinners, there was no escape. Except my job had me on leave and I didn’t live with my parents anymore.

“My mom wants to meet you,” I told Grace.

She froze. “Like, for dinner?”

“Yeah. Is that okay?”

“Of course,” she hurried to say. “What about tomorrow night?”

“Sounds good.” It was good to get that off the to-do list.

She groaned. “Don’t say that word.”

I raised a brow. “What, sound?”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “My manager told me I should try and find mine.”

From my view, every piece she made had her heart and soul attached. Every time I listened to her music—which was a lot—I could hear the spirit within it. Maybe it was a musician thing that my tone deaf ass couldn’t understand.

“Maybe you could write on a new topic?” I said hesitantly, completely out of my element.

“I tried that.”

“What if you collaborated with someone?” I suggested. “I know you’ve gotten offers.”

Outside of the fan mail that made it to her studio—and later my apartment mail because why the fuck not—my Sky had an inbox filled with such requests. Between those and the sponsorship deals, she wasn’t short on options. Not that I minded—the last sponsorship she’d taken was for weight-lifting equipment. Personally, the money she got paled to how she looked using the products. With her hair tied back, sweat dripping down. . .

“No,” she said, pulling me from my completely appropriate line of thinking, “I don’t want to work with someone I don’t know.”

“I’d offer, but you know I suck at writing music.”

She smiled. “I don’t know, you’ve gotten me out of some heavy writer’s block.”

Those beautiful eyes lit up as inspiration struck her. Given our line of conversation, it was a little scary, but I knew I’d do anything she asked. Once when she was drunk—and I mean real drunk—she’d looked at me with that same look. Giggling madly, Grace asked me to be her model. Two minutes later, I was covered in paint and she was calling me her ‘greatest masterpiece’. It had taken ages to get it all off, but I still had the pictures, and I grinned every time I saw them: me colored like a rainbow, utterly confused but so entertained. I wondered what new chaos she was going for this time.

“What if we wrote a song together?” Her voice was low.

“Yes,” I said confidently. “The tone deaf hotel receptionist and the—”

“You are not tone deaf, Jasper!” she huffed. “And I think it’ll be fun.”

I highly doubted that, but I knew I’d lost when I met her golden gaze. “Fine.”

“Okay, we start with lyrics,” she said. “Give me a line.”

“You. . .” I said smoothly. “You are the one that I love. . .”

She giggled. “Well, I already knew that. Now what rhymes with love?”

We went on like that for a good while before her eyes saw the camera. Then I was subjected to a private photoshoot with my Sky before she got distracted and tried to dress me up in it. Wanting my own fun, I convinced her to show me her own wardrobe, and when I say my jaw dropped at her beauty I fucking mean it. Even in a simple white tank top, my Grace was an angel.

I hadn’t been lying earlier: I loved her. Since I’d met her all those months ago, I’d known there was no one else for me. Every time I went for groceries, my eyes caught on the jewelry section, peeking at pieces for my Sky. Whenever I told the hotel guests what things there were to do, I wondered how she would look if we visited a waterfall one night. Would the moonlight make her shine as she did now?

Do I deserve someone like her?

“Jasper?” came my moonlit Sky. “You okay?”

I pulled her into my arms, running my hands through her hair as I spoke:

“Always with you.”