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Jasper stumbled to his feet with far less grace, concerned and slightly panicked. Had he done something wrong? “Konrad?” he said, taking a step to follow then stopping. Maybe Konrad didn’t want to be followed.

“Excuse me. I’ve never had company when I visit her. I thought I could remain… composed.”

Konrad did a passable imitation of someone who wasn’t crying, but Jasper saw him bring his hand to his face. Jasper took another uncertain step. “You don’t have to be composed. If you need space, I’ll give you space, but please don’t hide from me. I wouldn’t expect you to be okay right now.”

Konrad’s shoulders twitched inward, and Jasper had never seen a heart break so quietly.

Jasper crossed the rest of the short distance between them and rested a tentative hand on Konrad’s shoulder. He didn’t flinch, or pull away, and Jasper kept moving closer until his chest was against Konrad’s back. He wrapped his arms around him, felt the sob that shuddered through Konrad as grief ravaged him in silence.

“She was ready to go before I was ready to lose her. Those first days in Switzerland were for her, and the rest were for me. She knew I wasn’t ready to let her go. I thought I was being so strong for her. But she was being strong for me. Even in the end, after we got the pills and she took them, she thanked me, as if she hadn’t spent those extra days in pain to give me just a few more sunsets while I could still see the beauty in them.” Konrad wasn’t doing the imitation anymore, the full breadth of his pain rippling through every word now. “She took out one of her earrings and gave it to me, and I held it, and her, while she died.”

Jasper’s tears left a wet spot on the back of Konrad’s jacket. “She was your soulmate.”

“There was the strangest catharsis in continuing to live once she was gone. I had already known the love of my life and lost her, so everything after that felt… borrowed. A life led out of habit and obligation. She would have wanted me to be happy, so I tried, for her. I never anticipated it would be more than a pantomime of true happiness.”

Jasper didn’t know what to say, so he held him a little tighter.

“I carried her earring with me everywhere, every moment. Then, on her birthday, I decided to finally wear it. I had noticed a parlor just a few doors down from the restaurant, so I walked in, hoping no one would see that I was little more than an open wound, bleeding through life. And I was seated next to the first truly beautiful thing I had seen since Switzerland.”

“Konrad,” Jasper choked.

“You had charcoal on your face and smiled like you weren’t sure if you were doing it right. My sweet, feral boy. You put the needle through me and I would have razed all of Maryland to the ground to keep you.”

“You have me,” Jasper said hoarsely. You always did, even if I didn’t know it yet.

Konrad turned in his arms, drawing Jasper into him, tucking his chin over Jasper’s head. He held him almost too tightly, but Jasper thought he might have let Konrad crush him to dust if that was what he needed. His ribs already ached like they’d been pried open for Konrad to crawl beneath them. Jasper clutched the back of Konrad’s jacket, feeling the wetness of his own tears there. He felt Konrad’s chest tremble and knew he was looking at Anna’s grave.

“Thank you for coming, darling,” Konrad said, his hand shakily petting Jasper’s curls. “Let’s go home.”

Jasper didn’t ask which house he meant, and realized his home was no longer something with walls. It was a tall man, full of so much love and sadness, holding him like he might be the first person who wouldn’t let go.

twenty-one

Jasper zeroed in on the buzzing of the tattoo machine, his foot tapping to the music, on beat from memory rather than because he was actually listening to it. He’d shed his hoodie to work in his black Joy Division shirt since he was doing a full thigh piece.

His client was a college student, telling him all about the story behind the tattoo, how it was her reward for passing her midterms. Jasper nodded at the appropriate times and wondered how long he could go without speaking before she realized he wasn’t much of a talker. Apparently, she didn’t mind upholding the conversation all by herself. Jasper tried to be as personable as he could, he wanted his clients to feel comfortable, but him at his most sociable was still a few notches below Hiyori on a bad day.

When they were done, he covered the tattoo with Saniderm and told her how to take care of it. She had other tattoos, but he liked to give the spiel to new clients just in case. He let out a long breath when she was gone, his head throbbing. The tension from getting overstimulated gave him a headache from hell. It wasn’t her fault; some people talked as a distraction when they were nervous, or were just chatty in general.

He just wasn’t.

“Hey, Jasper.”

He looked up from digging through his drawer for Advil and found Hiyori standing at the entrance to his booth, her expression uncharacteristically serious. Jasper didn’t like it. “Yeah?”

“I need to talk to you about something.”

There weren’t many words that could make him as instantly anxious as I need to talk to you. “I’ve got half an hour before my next appointment,” he said, shaking a couple of pills into his palm. He swallowed them dry and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his hands on his knees.

Hiyori stepped inside and leaned on the wall that separated their booths. “You know Amara’s been wanting to move closer to her mom ever since her dad passed.”

“Yeah, of course.” Dread pooled at the bottom of his stomach. “I thought she was in school for another semester?”

“She picked up some extra credits throughout the year. She graduates next month.” Hiyori looked like she was breaking bad news, even as her eyes lit up with pride for her wife, and Jasper knew where this was going.

He picked at his nail polish. “You’re moving the shop.”

“No. Just me.”