Shattered Glass and Broken Beliefs [Hop/Jam]

[semper]

The little pricks of pain in my hand are barely enough to capture my attention for even a minute. Small droplets of blood slide down my rough palm, leaving little streaks behind. I use my fingers to try to pick out a shard, but the jagged edges catch on my skin and only rip it further, so I'm forced to leave them be until I can get some tweezers. How stupid was I to think that picking up this glass would be a good idea? How stupid was I to think that giving in to my own embarrassment would be good for me? Both of those have proven bad for me, physically and emotionally.

Jamar's tone indicates that he's on the verge of disowning me if he hasn't already. Nobody wants to come home and discover that their brother is in love with their other brother. It's wrong, it's sick, it's unnatural. Honestly, I wouldn't have expected any other reaction from him; hell, if Jamar was in my position, I'd be acting the same way. I don't know if I would necessarily kick him out of my life, but I would certainly be stunned. "Gee, thanks for your help," I grumble, keeping my attention on my hand.

If only he could see this my way - if only he could realize that I have no way out of this. I don't understand how he can't comprehend all of this. "It's not like I can just fall out of love, Jamar." I raise my voice along with my gaze, looking up into his stone-hard face. "You can't just go out and pick who the hell you want to be in love with! It doesn't work like that." Of course there's thousands of people in this District, but I only want one. It just so happens that he's my brother, but who cares? Love is love, no matter the gender or relation. Why should it matter that Klaus is my brother? If no one knew we were siblings, would they still find it unnatural?

But then something comes to my mind: a little rumor; something small, but still quite devastating if used in the right way. A particular rumor involving this hulking sac of anger in front of me. I keep my gaze up at his face, a questioning and accusing look coming across mine. "But you should know all about that, shouldn't you? I've heard that you yourself have gotten into some dirty things with some girl." To be honest, I don't believe it. Some girl liking Jamar? Impossible. But liking your own brother? People thought that was impossible too. "... is that true?"

[/justify][/color]

[Python]

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Hopper was right - he really didn’t understand. ”It’s not like I can just fall out of love, Jamar.” Well, why? It occurred frequently in the real world, especially in school where he listened to worthless gossip all day. There were always men falling “out of love” with the girls they slept with, so why couldn’t Hopper just stop loving Klaus - a boy he has yet to sleep with (and never would if Jamarion could help it)? Couples passionately in love married each other and divorced every year. Wasn’t that identical to falling out of love? It sounded the same to him, so why was Hopper exaggerating the situation? Probably because he was a big baby in Jamarion’s eyes. Overemotional and incapable of handling emotional trauma. No wonder he was so attached to Klaus - the two were like magnets with their childish behavior.

”You can’t just go out and pick who the hell you want to be in love with! It doesn’t work like that.” He was making this increasingly more difficult than it needed to be.

”Why not?” He leaned against the nearest wall and returned his brother’s stare, unable to comprehend the complexity of the situation. That’s what Jamarion was about, though, wasn’t it? Disabled empathy. Stupidity. Perhaps he was too stupid or heartless like people said to understand Hopper’s feelings. He despised that insult; “stupid.” He hated it as much as he hated being labeled heartless. He wasn’t either of those things. If there was a perfect term that could be used to describe Jamarion, it was uncaring. He just didn’t care enough to channel any effort into anything, including understanding peoples stupid feelings. Especially Hopper’s, considering he was in love with a blood relative.

His brother decided to change the subject, then, by mentioning something that struck him like a hard blow to the chest. For a moment he merely gaped at Hopper, speechless and unable to immediately summon a decent retort. How did he know about that? Those rumors were supposed to have remained within the boundaries of the school, like an isolated disease infecting only those who remained in quarantine. How had they managed to reach beyond that perimeter? Was there a student at his school who worked with Hopper at the factory and had carelessly mentioned it during break time? Whatever the case, Jamarion was mortified. He thought he had escaped the torment once and for all, and now, he was discovering that he hadn’t, and considered the fact that he may never do so completely. ”No! Those are just rumors some nerd made up at school! I didn’t do anything with that girl!” Part of that was a lie. He had done something with the girl - nothing dirty, as opposed to what the rumors stated - but enough to compel him to lie about it. The other portion was true, however. The supposed dirty actions were just rumors caused by a moron who figured he could execute revenge without facing physical consequences. Hopefully he had learned his lesson.[/justify][/blockquote]

[semper]

Why not. Why not? Why can’t I just go out and pick who I want to be in love with? Why is that predetermined for me? Why can’t I decide? I’ve heard it said that whoever you fall in love with is your soul mate, but that can’t be true. It can’t be. How many people do you hear of marrying their sibling? Or people saying about how they’re head-over-heels for their brother or sister? No one says that because no one feels that way. So why do I feel this way? It could just be my head overreacting to losing Klaus, but I doubt that’s the case; even before he left, I know I lusted over him. I’ve watched him in ways I shouldn’t, had strange fantasies slip into my mind, and have overly cherished moments I’ve shared with him. Even to the point where I nearly worshiped them. It’s a bit extreme, that I’m aware of, but I can’t help it.

Using my uninjured hand, I carefully get myself up off the floor, shaking off the last bits of glass that are on my clothes. I feel a throbbing pain in my hand and I turn it so I can see the palm. The sparkling shards are still jutting out; I carefully try to pick one out, but the jagged edges catch on my skin and only cause more pain. My jaw sets tightly and I exhale sharply, deciding to work on taking the shards out later.

My attention then goes back to Jamar, who is quick again to defend himself. Quite honestly, I believe him – no one would want to willingly do things with him anyway. But you never know; there’s always a sneaking suspicion. And really, after my discovery, nothing seems quite as impossible to believe anymore.

”Just rumors from a nerd,” I muse quietly to myself, no hint of anger in my voice at all. Just…. tiredness. Exhaustion. It’s been quite an emotionally taxing day anyway, with Klaus winning the Games and then me confessing my love for him, then being beaten down because of it. ”You know what? After what I just told you today, I believe you. More than likely you didn’t do anything to that girl except maybe pound her face into the dirt – which I don’t agree with but can’t do anything about – but who knows. And if you did and you’re just lying to me, just watch, maybe she’ll be the one you fall in love with and can’t do anything about it.” It really doesn’t make that much sense, but I feel like it’s slightly justified me in some way. Maybe if he’s hit in the butt with Cupid’s arrow and falls madly in love with some girl, he’ll understand where I’m coming from. I doubt it, though. I’m not keeping my hopes up for that one.

With a sigh, I look at my hand briefly, shrugging lightly. As much as I hate to admit it, I don't think I'll be able to efficiently pull out all this glass, so I'm left with only one option, much to my dismay. "Could you help me take out the glass from my hand?"

[/justify][/color]

[Python]

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The faint trace of hostility remaining within Hopper seemed to vanish just then as he stood up and examined the hand that was dripping fresh blood onto the floor. The demeanor was contagious, because at that moment - spotting the defeat and unwillingness to continue fighting in his brother’s eyes - Jamarion relaxed his muscles and released his stress through an exhale out of flared nostrils. He merely watched silently has Hopper struggled to remove one of the deadly shards and reacted to the pain that followed. Eventually, though, he gave up and diverted his attention back to Jamarion, who hoped Hopper would believe him instead of the ridiculous rumors spreading like wildfire. To his own relief, he decided that he did believe him, and that he wouldn’t do anything with the girl unless it involved pounding her face into-- wait a minute. That was a rash (and typically true for most cases) assumption. Jamarion opened his mouth to stubbornly protest, but Hopper’s voice continued to prevent him from doing so. Apparently he had a bit more to say.

”Maybe she’ll be the one you fall in love with.” There was that word again. The word he could define but could never understand properly. People wondered if Jamarion was even capable of love, and he wondered the same thing. He couldn’t picture himself “falling in love” with anyone since he pretty much despised the majority of the population, especially those that attended his school. What had truly happened with the girl had been a brief, unpredictable experiment that he planned on never revisiting. The fact that Hopper was bringing love into the situation was foolish. He didn’t have feelings for the girl. But, he also wouldn’t smash her face into the ground as Hopper had so abruptly assumed. Now that he was finished speaking, though, Jamarion could address that properly.

”I did not pound her face into the dirt,” he snapped, narrowing his eyes into a piercing glare. ”And I’m not going to fall in love with her. I don’t even like her.”

Fortunately, Hopper dropped the subject and asked Jamarion to help pull the glass shards out of his hand. This prompted him to grimace - he didn’t want to touch Hopper’s bloodied hand or get bloodstains on his shirt and have to clean up after him. It was his fault, after all, for trying to punch him. Still, he figured Hopper would complain if he didn’t try to help, especially since pulling glass out of one’s hands was rather difficult (he would know). With a sigh, Jamarion agreed, knowing very well there would be screaming and flailing to endure in the process. ”Fine,” he muttered, grabbing a hold of Hopper’s wrist whilst preparing for the cursing and sputtering that would come from him when he yanked out the every glistening shard. It was going to be a long day.[/justify][/blockquote]