Chapter Text
It started off with a handshake.
A gray dreary day greeted me from sleep’s clutches. I stretch, feeling the sick but satisfying muffled cracks from along my limbs after hours of misuse. Sitting up and pulling open strayed and withered curtains,
I’d have to ask mom to patch those up later
a visit from Jack Frost himself shows itself. Blankets of white topped off with delicate crystal icicles were all to be seen, decorating the streets as though they were a part of mother nature’s own canvas. I hated the winter. All it did was leave behind frostbitten tips and red noses, and that was besides the fact that I haven't had a proper winter jacket in years anyway.
Sighing again before softly closing the curtains, not wanting to damage them more than they already were, I slide off the bed and immediately suppress a shiver. The icy wooden floor boards seep into my skin, leaving each spot renewed with a brief warmth sapped from the little heat I already had.
By the time I reach downstairs the little shivers that knack my frame are getting harder and harder to ignore. It was only 10 months into the year. The warm and colorful scenery painted from autumn leaves and crisp evenings barely lasting past the harvest. Winter had started earlier this year, and I knew that that was really gonna put a wrench in me and mom’s routine.
Thin slender hands, coarse from years of hardwork and undernourishment grab at a large pot, filling it up to the brim. The soft sound of water floods the room, bouncing off the walls. With a grunt, thin hands manage to lift the pot to the stove before turning it on its highest setting. The escaped heat from the stove works to warm up the freezing room, a small sizzling sound replacing the silence.
I trudge to the back of the room, grabbing a chair and scraping it against the hardwood. If the floor was new, I would have worried about it scarring. As it was, there were more scars and marked tattoos against the floor than the smooth dark wood that it used to be.
I stop when I reach the window, placing the chair upright before plopping down onto it, my knees immediately coming up to my chest, my arms wrapped around them. I had to wait for the water to completely boil before leaving. My mother always scolded me when I left the stove on without watching it. She claimed it was dangerous, not that anything had ever happened to me, but she had her scars that showed rather than told the story of what had happened to her.
“Always watch the stove, you don’t wanna end up looking like me now do you love?” She’d joke, but the hard look in toffee coloured pools always gave away how tired and concerned she was.
I keep my eyes trained on the stove, never taking them off for a second in fear of what might happen before a loud honking sound startles me out of my daze. Whipping my head to the window, I see the garbage truck running its routes. Honking at some kids who thought it’d be funny to jump in front of it at the last second. It’s clearly funny to everyone but the driver who looks like he is seconds away from popping a vein.
Rolling my eyes at the scene in front of me, I unwrap my hands and bring them in front of my mouth, blowing warm cusps of air onto them. Trying, but failing to reheat them enough to return circulation to them.
“Babe, are you up yet?” A scratchy voice asks. It comes out as muffled due to the distance between me and my mother as she makes her way towards me. Creaks escape from under her feet, sounding as though they’ll give way from underneath her and it’s certainly not from her weight.
“Yes, I’m in the kitchen.” A chestnut head pops around the corner, a smile making its way from chapped lips to large almond shaped eyes. “Did you sleep well?” My mother was a tall, slender woman with long curly brown locks matted onto a small head. Despite being underweight she still managed to look almost graceful in her movements.
She had me quite young, only being nineteen and just turning twenty eight this year. My mom always said she was a looker when she was younger. She claimed to have gotten all the guys and turned everyone’s attention to her wherever she went.
With sharp cheekbones that always looked sharper due to lack of food, and bushy yet arched eyebrows crowned on top of thick dark lashes “And lucky for you, you look just like a mini me.” I remember her say. I always thought my mother to be beautiful, and she still did turn heads wherever she went.
I liked to think it was from her good looks more so than anything else. “Yep, I put water on the stove for you.” I say, shifting around to sit on my hands and hide them from her. I didn't want to make her worry over something as silly as being a little cold in winter.
We had other things to worry about.
A thick eyebrow raises in glee at this, a toothy smile pulling at my mother’s lips and pulling one from me in return. “I see that babe. Look at you, always taking care of me. What would I do without you?” I feel my cheeks go pink at the praise, soaking up the attention. “But you don’t need to worry about it, I’m leaving after you today so I can always boil some more.”
“Are you sure? It’s cold. A warm bath would warm you up.” A feminine laugh fills the room as the taller of the two walk towards the boy, stretching her hands out for him to take. “You're so considerate of me baby, but I’m okay. You need this bath more than me.
You think I didn't realize you warming your hands? I’m super mom. I see everything. Now head to the bath, I’ll take out the water for you.” She finishes, placing a kiss to my hairline. I nod at her before taking my hands back and heading up the stairs. “Oh wait, it’s a pretty nice day today isnt? The sunniest it’s been all week.” I turn to look at her, seeing her crouched where I just was.
Despite her words all I can see are the washed out hues of black and grey, the occasional streak of white snow painting the roads. I can’t remember the last time I looked outside and saw color. It was like all the paint from my palette was replaced with the shades I see now.
Sometimes, I watch mother in her moments, when she lets herself go and doesn't catch my gaze. I get the feeling that her palette's the same as mine. I walk faster than I need to, almost slipping in my haste. When I reach the bathroom, I head to the sink, turning it on it’s hottest setting. Regardless of not having hot water, I liked to imagine that the faucet being placed on the hotter side always felt a bit warmer than the icy temperatures on the cold side.
I quickly splash my face with water, the cold water freezing my skin and making my teeth chatter in return. I wipe my face with a towel, then pull out my toothbrush to brush. The spicy mint flavour from the paste leaves my mouth tasting fresh. Feeling satisfied, I turn once again to the tub and clog it with a rag before turning it on and watching it fill. Only halfway though anymore than that and mother says I wont be able to warm it up enough with the added water from the stove.
My hand finds its way into the biting water, splashing it around. The ripples formed from each splash entrances me, almost to the point where I miss my mother’s entrance into the bathroom. “Cassius! Watch out! I don't want you getting burned!” She shouts and gestures for me to move with a flick of her head. I scoot to the side, the bathroom being much too narrow for me to do much else.
Thick hot steam bubbles up and collects as droplets on the ceiling from the pot in my Mother’s hand. She grunts before moving forward, inching as close as she can to the other side before gently pouring the water out, making sure to prevent stray boiling droplets from bouncing out. Soap. Water. Stir.
The bath routine I've watched her do for years and have done enough times for myself as well as mother whenever I can. After making sure a sufficient amount of bubbles were there as well as checking the temperature for the umpteenth time, she nodded her head before turning towards me.
“Alright, the waters good. You've got ten minutes toots, then you get your butt down stairs okay?” “I’m not a baby, I know how long to shower for mom.” “Yes you are, you're my beautiful baby boy and you're going to take no more than ten minutes okay?” I blink at her before sighing. “Okay.” “That’s my boy! I’m making porridge, it’ll be done soon.” I strip as she talks, embarrassment never being an issue between us despite the fact that I’ll be nine soon.
We’ve been down to the lowest of the low where we've had to take baths together in order to save money. What little embarrassment that I might have had was wiped clean when I found my mother having a breakdown over the bills one night. And more often than not, I've found myself in her bed when the chilled air keeps me up, freezing into my chest and down to the tips of my toes. “Okay, should I leave the water or drain it?” “Leave it in, I’ll be up when you're done.”
A soft squeak of old wooden doors mark her exit. I quickly climb into the tub, the goosebumps that pricked my skin from briefly being exposed to the chilly air going down as a comfortable warmth soaked into my bones. I grab a washcloth, quickly sudding it up before scrubbing myself down. Watching the previously clear water turn murky. I go as fast as I can, not wanting to let the water turn cold before mother can get a chance to get some hot water as well.
After dunking my head one last time, I climb out, dark curls slipping into my eyes causing me to stumble.
Wham!
“Hey! What's going on up there?”
“Nothing! Don’t worry! I’m fine!”
I groan, rubbing my knee. The skins flushed pink from the bath and quickly turning red from my fall. I quickly grab my clothes from the floor before limping out the bathroom, making sure to watch the floor as I go to prevent another fall. I turn my leg around, using my ankle to get a feel for it.
After playing with it for a bit until the pain resides into a dull throb, I hobble out the bathroom to my bedroom to change. After throwing on an outfit mother already picked out and had on the bed, I make my way down. Her worried expression greets me as soon as I walk into the kitchen. “I’m fine.” I insist while grabbing the bowl filled with porridge in her hand with a small thanks. “I just slipped when I was coming out is all.” “You don’t say? Why didn’t you dry your hair? You’ll freeze before you reach the road.”
She clicks, reaching for a kitchen towel and throwing it over my head, massaging all the excess water out of my hair. “I forgot.” I mumble, my words coming out garbled over the food in my mouth. Floods of cinnamon and vanilla fill my senses from the porridge. The sweet yet savory dish worked to warm my fingertips as well as my insides. No matter how many times I've had it, it never failed to surprise me at how mother could make something with such little ingredients taste so good.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full! It’s bad table manners.” I continue on eating, her soft fingers in my hair helping me to relax. “Cassius, you need to leave now or you’ll never make it.”Mother says softly. I open my eyes to look at her, not noticing when I closed them. “Should I stop by the store today on the way home? We're almost out of milk.” “No, it’s okay. Aunties coming by to drop off groceries.
We’ll be stacked for weeks!” I grin at that and she mirrors one in return. “Now shoo! Here take this, use it for lunch only! I don’t need you using it to buy groceries again okay? We're fine.” As she talks, she slips a five dollar bill into my back pocket before kissing me on my forehead. I stand up and turn towards my mother, before tugging on her sleeve, our universal code for her to lean down.
She does and I plant a kiss on her cheek in return. “I won’t. Bye mom. I love you.” “I love you too sweets, now leave before you're late.” And with that I grab my bag from the hook, making sure the straps are pulled tight. I grab my hand-me -down boots and put those on as well. Tying the laces as the velcro straps no longer worked as well as they used to when I got them. Finally I tug on my sweater, struggling to zip it up over so many layers before pulling my hood up and marching out the door.
The first thing the brunette noticed was that it was much colder outside than it looked from inside. The biting cold already working to turn the tip of his nose and ears a vibrant red color. His cheeks flushed from the weather, the splotches making him look like he was sick with a fever. Cassius shoved his hands into his pockets before trudging forward against the wind.
The school wasn't far, no more than a ten minute walk on a particularly bad day. Cassius assumed that it was safe to assume that today qualified under a particular bad day. It didn’t help that as soon as he started his trudge towards the school, the first sprinklings of snow decided to make their debate. Fluttering down in delicate waves that were sure to pile up in the long run.
The boy quickly readjusted his hood over his ears once more, before continuing forward. Despite the many layers he tacked on, his lack of jacket seemed to put all the efforts in vain. The icy winds blew through his clothes and into his skin, racking the boy's body with shudders. No matter how fast he walked to reach his destination, faster or slow to try and conserve what little heat he had left, nothing seemed to work.
Clenching his teeth, he lowered his face to try and protect from the winds onslaught before speed walking forward. It worked for the most part, until for the second time that day, he was knocked to his hands and knees once again after slamming into someone's back. “Ouch!” “Hey” The two boys said. Cassius held his head between his fingers from the ground before quickly staggering back to his feet, but the damage was already down. The slush from the pavement had marked his jeans and had quickly started soaking into them, making wet patches.
By this point the chattering in his teeth was now noticeable to both boys as the unknown one's scowl quickly falls off his face when he noticed the state of Cassius. “Hey are you okay? Your face is really red!” “I-I'm f-fine. Just a little c-cold” “I know! Look at your fingers! They're all red!” The unknown boy states before grabbing my hands between his. I instantly let out a sigh at the feeling, his warm hands feeling scorching hot against my frigid ones.
Not knowing how to respond to that, I finally look up to see the other boy. He’s about the same height as me with messy black locks, the straight strands a bright contrast to my curled ones. But the main thing that catches my attention are vibrant emerald eyes, piercing right into me. I blink up into vibrant green pools with a carefully neutral expression.
“Hey, I’m not mad at you for bumping into me anymore. I mean I was at first but I’m okay now." He says, scratching the back of his head with the hand that's not still holding mine.
“Yeah, sorry about that. I wasn't watching where I was going.” “It's okay! Just be more careful next time! I’m Jasper, what’s your name.” “Cassius.” Jasper looks at me with a funny expression on his face, lips curled up in thought.
“Cautious?”
“Cassius.”
“Catchyous?”
“Cassius! Ca-see-us!”
I finished exasperatedly, heat painting my cheeks from frustration more so than the cold now. I should be used to it by now, alot of kids my age couldn’t pronounce my name and the ones that could pretended they couldnt to laugh along with everyone else. “I’ll just call you Cas! Well Cas, it’s nice to meetcha!” He finishes with a wide grin exposing his teeth.
He shakes me hand before walking off towards school, dragging me along by our still entwined fingers. Our boots crunch against clean white snow as we walk, leaving a trail of small boot prints in our quake. “So, what grade are you in?” “Fourth.” “Really? Me too! Wow I never knew we were in the same class.
You have Miss P. right? I think I saw you in her line once.” “Yeah I do, and you have Miss. Tole.” “Yeah, she’s nice but she always gives us readings to do and I can’t understand half of them!” The raven whines. I chuckle at that and he turns to look at me, feigning hurt even though I can see him trying to withhold a smile. “Are you laughing at me?” “Maybe, I can help you with your readings if you want. Our class is ahead of yours so I already did the one you're reading right now.” “Really? You mean it?” “Yup.” “You're the best man! I owe you one!”
Before I know it, we reach the school. The icy cold winds a thing of the past. For some reason, from when I met Jasper to when we reached the school, the cold never seemed to bother me a bit, his warm hands working to thaw out mine.