Alejandro and Jaspre

[antonnachzehrer]

He frowns at that. "I certainly hope not," he says as they begin walking towards the costume tent, but his mind can't help but wander back to that morning, several weeks ago, when Jaspre said a name in his sleep.

SullivanWho is Sullivan? he wonders. And why does he seem to be such a sad subject for Jaspre

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[timbits_tootsie]

Setting up the costume tent is a bit of extra work because of all the costumes and objects that need to go in their respective places, and they make a bit of a mess along the way, but it makes them laugh, and Gwen doesn’t seem to mind terribly much.

They see nothing of Jaspre the entire afternoon, though, and he is not there for dinner late in the evening. Absinthia can’t stop fidgeting during the meal, and it doesn’t take long for her to voice her worry. “Ale, can we go see if he’s okay? He’s always here for dinner.”

“Alejandro can go check on him. Ingrid needs our help cleaning up after,” Grimm says. His daughter looks unhappy at that, but Grimm doesn’t think the man needs the bother of putting up a brave face for Absinthia’s sake if he is having a bad day.

[antonnachzehrer]

"I'll make sure and tell you everything that happens," Alejandro promises to Absinthia, which seems to please her, and soon he is walking back to his caravan.

When he gets there, Jaspre is on his bed, staring up blankly at the ceiling. It is dark, but no lanterns have been lit, which makes Alejandro frown. He closes the door quietly and goes to his nightstand, lighting the candle there before going over to sit on the edge of Jaspre bed, placing his hand over one of the other monster's.

"Hey," he says softly. "What's wrong? We're all worried about you."

[timbits_tootsie]

He exhales slowly. Inhales. His insides have knotted themselves together, but he can still speak fine -or so he thinks- so he clears his throat. “I needed some time to think.”

On the bed next to him is the letter he received today, along with every other letter Sullivan has sent him, all open, the paper wrinkled from travel and wear.

The dark is of no matter; all four of his eyes are open, unblinking, and fixed on the ceiling. He knows it is useless to tell the Alejandro that he is fine, however much he wants to do that, and though he normally can hide his emotions well behind a neutral mask, he does not feel like spending the effort.

(Oh, Jas...I want to cuddle them both!)

[antonnachzehrer]

Alejandro squeezes his hand tightly. "Does this have anything to do with Sullivan?" he asks.

{Me too!}