“That would be perfect.”
We sat in comfortable silence while I clipped, filed, polished, and painted Jason’s nails. Between each nail, I studied Jason’s face. His smile was wide, but he looked…tired. His usually tamed mousy brown hair stuck up at odd angles, and there were dark circles under his eyes. He also looked like he’d lost a few pounds.
“Jason, are you okay?” I asked, pausing in my painting.
“I’m perfect. I mean, who wouldn’t be when their nails are being painted?”
“You look tired.”
Jason hummed. “Yeah, maybe a bit.”
“Come on. Tell the truth,” I grumbled. “You haven’t been sleeping, have you? Do you want to talk about it?”
He sighed and sat back, staring at the hand I had finished painting. “If I’m being honest, I haven’t been able to sleep well because I’m worried.”
“…about?” I prompted.
“About you.”
“Me?”
“Listen…there’s something I need to tell you.”
My stomach sank. Oh, great. Was he going to tell me I was part dragon now, too? I mean, being part dragon would be pretty cool. I bet I could breath fire and shit.
“It’s nothing bad, necessarily. It’s about us. I don’t know if you’ve felt it.” He took my hand and that pleasant hum started up.
I nodded. “Yeah, that warm tingle whenever we touch.”
“Me changing you, it formed a connection. My parents told me that it’s akin to a mating bond.” He said slowly, his expression telling me he was rather worried about my reaction.
But...something inside of me told me that what he said was right. Jason was mine, he was my mate.
“So, what does that entail exactly?”
“You believe me?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”
“Most wouldn’t.” He let go of my hand and stared down at his palm. “To answer your question, it means being apart from one another for long periods is rather difficult. The feeling isn’t as intense for you, because your instincts aren’t as strong, but for me—”
He paused and clenched his hand into a fist. Without a thought, I reached out and placed my hand over his.
“Let’s just say it’s intense. When you were unconscious, sleeping was impossible. My instincts drove me to always watch and make sure you were okay. It hasn’t changed much since you’ve woken up. When I went to go see my parents, I was running a fever. I felt sick and achy, almost like—”
“Withdrawal.” I said knowingly. Even if he was right and my feelings weren’t as intense, I still felt it.
“Yeah, just like that.”
I pulled Jason from where he sat right next to me and laid my head on his shoulder. “And last night, when I was with Percy and Theseus...you didn’t sleep at all, did you?”
He snuggled into me, his limbs wrapping around mine. “No. I couldn’t.”
"Why didn't you tell me before? If us being apart causes you so much pain, then why leave me with Percy all night?” No wonder he interrupted my date with Theseus.
“It's not like you can be with me all the time. I've already wrecked your life enough. I didn't need to make you feel guilty about basically being chained to me.”
I sighed. “I thought we were past this. You didn’t wreck my life, Jason. You saved it.”
He began to pull away from me, but I tensed up, keeping him still.
“It is my fault, though. If I hadn’t called you a slut, you wouldn’t have run off into that storm in the first place!”
I dropped my grip on him and leaned back, eyes wide. “You called me a what?!”
He dragged his hand over his face. “We got into a fight. You were...I was...I fucked up. You found me sleeping at the bottom of the pool and dove in to save me. I freaked out because my stupidity put you in danger and I was so angry. The others were there and… I just…I’m sorry.”
I blinked and stared at the frazzled man. Then, slowly, I got up and walked into the kitchen. Silently reaching into the freezer, I grasped a handful of ice. As I walked back into the room, Jason was staring at me, befuddled. Looking directly into his eyes, I snagged my fingers around the elastic of his pants and boxers and dumped the big handful of ice down his pants.
“Shhiiittt!!” Jason swore as he gripped his crotch.
To add salt to the wound, I smacked him upside the head. Hard. “Jason, you were an asshole. But…”
I waited until he had pulled the ice out of his pants and focused back on me.
“You have suffered enough for your mistake.” I stepped closer to him and cupped his cheek. “And you’ve more than made up for it. Even if I don’t remember what happened that day, you calling me a slut wouldn’t have pushed me onto that boat. That decision was mine, and mine alone. Now, come.”
I took his hand and led him over to the couch.
“What are we doing?” he asked, stumbling over a few of the pillows on the floor.
“You are going to sleep.”
“But I still haven’t made you lunch! And I promised you a pedicure.” Jason protested as I shoved him onto the couch.
“I can fend for myself, and the pedicure can wait.”
“But—”
“Nope.” I pushed him until he was laying down. “Close your eyes and count backwards from twenty. That’s an order.”
He sighed and closed his eyes. “Twenty, nineteen, eighteen.”
As he counted, I stroked his hair and began to softly sing a lullaby.
I love you, a bushel and a peck,
A bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck,
“What kind of song is that?” He mumbled.
“Hush.” I shushed him and began to sing again.
A hug around the neck and a barrel and a heap,
A barrel and a heap and I'm talkin' in my sleep,
About you, about you…
Jason didn’t even make it to ten before he drifted off.
“Idiot.” I whispered softly before standing.
“My turn?”
I jumped and turned to find Ajax standing at the edge of the room. He looked good. For once, his wild bear appearance was tamed. His usually scruffy beard was trimmed, his hair combed, not covered in paint. It was hot.
I creeped away from Jason. “Jason mentioned something about taking turns before. Did you guys draw straws or something?”
“Yes.”
“And it’s your turn?”
He nodded with a grin.
I looked back over to the sleeping Jason and remembered what he had said about needing me near him. Looking back to Ajax I asked, "We won’t go far, will we?”
He shook his head.
“Okay, so what are we doing?”
“Food first.”
He ushered me towards the kitchen and gestured for me to sit at the table. For a large man, he moved around and prepared us lunch with such quiet grace, I would have akin him to a ballet dancer. It was nice to just sit and watch him as his hands moved swiftly, chopping up lettuce, peppers and onions. Pulling ground beef out of the fridge, he fried it up and added spices. I wondered what he was making until he pulled out a familiar box.
“I love tacos,” I whispered excitedly.
“Same,” he replied.
As Ajax cooked, I checked in on Jason. He was out like a light, snoring loudly on the couch.
I thought about what he had said before. Mates. I wondered what that meant for us now. In books, it was similar to marriage, yet deeper, on a more physical level, and not just a promise to each other and a title. But beyond the tingling sensation, I didn’t feel anything like what Jason felt. Certainly not constantly thinking about him and feeling physical discomfort when he wasn’t nearby.