Natsby

Chapter Twelve

Shout out the the guy that commented on this and reminded me that I haven't uploaded in a while.

The next morning I awoke with feelings of disgust, as I looked more of a mess than before. I wandered through the home, stopping by the kitchen to grab a small apple. I seemed to have lost my appetite, and I hoped it would correct itself before it began to show.
The library seemed untouched, And I was reminded of the strange man I met once upon a dream, that I thought was Gatsby. I chortled at my newfound relief that it was not.
It was strange, as I sat in the room, silent all but for the tune of Klipspringer, how I seemed to have more memories inside the home of Gatsby than anywhere else. He really did captivate my thoughts.
I wandered around, finding the room I was almost shot in by Mr. Wilson. It was nothing more than a fuzzy memory now. I wondered what would have happened if Wilson did shoot Gatsby.
Surely Mr. Wilson would have ended his life as well, sure on the notion that he was satisfied with the murder of the man Wilson thought to have killed his wife. The secret of Daisy’s doing would have completely disappeared.
Gatsby’s funeral would have been packed to the brim. Or possibly be completely empty, and I would have taken over his place, keeping his parties and dreams alive. I would have regardless. I felt heartbroken at the idea of seeing Gatsby be placed in the ground. But, maybe I wouldn’t have felt the loss of love if he died back then. I only realized I loved him after he was in Chicago. But, I suppose if he had died I would have realized I loved him anyway. It would have only been too late.
I questioned my thoughts. Do I love Gatsby? I have told him that, but was I lying without knowledge or consent? He killed someone, he was a monster. I think.
I wandered back to the kitchen to throw away my apple core, and decided to go listen to Klipspringer play. I was quick to lose track of time, his music seeming to tell a series of little stories. When he stopped I did as well. I clapped for his performance, and he ignored the applause as he left for his room behind the piano stage. How did he not eat?
I looked to my right, where the large windows shone the clear night through. It was a beautiful magnificence that captivated my very soul. I felt myself rise, and I inched open one of the glass doors and slipped through. I walked, just watching the stars gleam their soulful innocence down on my windswept form. I was an addict finding the glory of salvation, and yet, I was also a mere weed left alone in a forgotten place. I laid down on the grass, soaking in the feelings of illusioned stillness. I closed my eyes for what felt like a moment, and when I opened them again, the sun had risen and there was a small grasshopper on my chest. I shook it off as I stood, finally deciding to go and clean myself up.
I was pleased to see that the water still functioned, and so I showered in peace. I shaved and tended to other parts of my hygiene, putting on a fresh set of clothes once I finished. I felt so much better, and ready to take on the day. I wandered back into the study, prepared to indulge in more letters.
Before I fully settled in, I heard a door slam open and shut. I grew weary as I heard Klipspringer end a song abruptly. His voice carried, and I could easily hear him shouting furiously to his clearly unwanted guest. “Another one of you! Can I not have peace for my work?!” He was quiet, and he spoke up once more. “The little wry man that you couldn’t stop whining about? Yes, he is here, and you both have now disrupted my sonata without a care in the world!” Pause. “I don’t know if he ever left! I was in that room over there, but last I cared enough to see, he was heading towards the study.” He was quiet again, until a final, “You can show your thanks by letting me work,” and Klipspringer was playing once again.
I knew exactly who he was speaking to, and it was the man I did not feel prepared to see again. Hurried footsteps came closer and closer, and in a fit of adrenaline I raced down the hall and up the stairs, not looking back. Gatsby’s shouts trailed behind me.
I reached the top, which happened to be my old writing room. I felt the petrifying butterflies in my stomach vanish as I remembered the countless nights I spent in the room. I don’t know what drove me there, but I opened the curtains, and allowed the now lowering sun inside. It filled the room with the warm gleam of orange, pink, and red, and I couldn’t help but close my eyes and take it all in.
I heard the door open and close in a far away land, but no voices or footsteps. It was quiet and homely, as though there were no issues. The sun finally disappeared, darkening the room. The sweet atmosphere was gone, and it was now Gatsby and I, along with the secrets of the night.
I turned and there he was. Jay stood before me, eyes red from crying and an even larger mess than the last time I saw him. He looked as though he wanted to hold me close, but he held himself back. Afraid of what I would do, I suppose. I kept his stare as I reached into my pockets and dropped all the letters and notes I kept onto the floor. He glanced down, then quickly back up in an anxious anticipation.
I looked away from him, breaking the fixated gaze I held on him. I bent down and lifted one slip, the receipt of Gatsby’s deed. I held it out and he came over slowly, gingerly taking it out of my hand.
Gatsby took one look and tore it up. “I faked it,” was all he said. I looked up and he was frowning heavily. He bent down and I watched him as he found the letter from the man who ordered him to do it, and tore that up as well. He went through every single letter, tearing it to shreds. I stared as he found the one letter I kept on me from Daisy. He hesitated, glancing my way before destroying that too. “She’s useless,” He mumbled. He finally got to my letter, and he read it, before folding it and setting it within the confines of his jacket.
Once he stood again, it was all torn to shreds. He looked at me and I looked at him. Time had frozen once more between us as he moved closer. “I want answers,” I whispered. “If it means I can have you once again, I will,” He replied softly, bringing me into his chest and wrapping his arms around my still frame.
I missed that feeling in ways that was too much to bear, even if it was less than a week ago I got to experience it. I slowly brought my arms up to his back, and soon found myself gripping him tight, as though if I did Jay would disappear. I felt him lift my body up, and I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck. I let my head rest on his shoulder and closed my eyes, just feeling the movements. I heard a loud slam on the piano and screams in german as I felt the door open and my body be carried outside. I could hear his footsteps across the greenery, and felt the slight tickle of leaves and branches as we made our way from his old yard to our new one. He brought me inside, and set me gently onto the sofa. He left the room, returning a few moments later with an enormous blanket.
He climbed onto the sofa and brought me closer, covering our bodies with the blanket. I still had an urge in the back of my mind to run, but I felt much happier with where I was already. I thought back to when Gatsby tore up the papers, and how he said he “faked it.”
“Jay?”
“Hm?”
“What did you mean by you faked it?”
“I didn’t actually kill that man.” I looked up at him. “What do you mean?” I asked.
He readjusted himself, bringing me closer.
“While I was in Chicago, I swore to myself that I would do anything to secure a bright future for Daisy and I. I told myself that no matter what I was asked to do, I would do it with Daisy as my guide. When my old pal asked me to kill someone, I did not hesitate to accept the opportunity to guarantee my happiness with Daisy. A week before the mission, though, I received your letter. That seemed to bring me back to my senses long enough to realize that I didn’t want blood on my hands, especially not for a woman that already made her decision long ago. I contacted a close friend up in Minnesota, who came down and helped me plan to fake my target’s death.”
I felt him kiss the top of my head before he continued.
“We had an already dead corpse that we threw into the river, and it looked so much like my target that there would be no doubt in case my boss decided to look a little further into it. My friend sent the real man up to Canada, where he most likely still is today.” I shuffled slightly, so that I could look at him directly. “Why did you play up the lie to me? You know I wouldn’t have told,” I asked curiously. He closed his eyes and sighed. “I suppose my biggest fear was that if my old partner found out the truth, he would come for me along with anyone who knew. I just got you, I couldn’t lose you so soon.” He took a shaky breath, and I leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. He looked at me with a gentle glance, and he responded to my attempts of affection with one of his own, as he placed a sweet kiss on my lips and leaving my heart aflutter.
He looked away again and continued. “When you ran, I realized that what I did to protect you was possibly hurting you more than anything else, and that it was all my fault. I searched all over for you, but you seemed to have vanished. I felt hopeless, until I awoke from a nap and saw a figure in the window of my old home. Something told me it was you, and Klipspringer confirmed it. When I found you, you seemed so peaceful and happy in the sunset, that I stood in silence. No, not silence. Awe. You seemed so relaxed, and I wanted to do whatever I could to bring it back to stay. When you turned to me and and revealed the letters, your fear and worry came back so fast, I was afraid that I would do something to break you. I felt hateful to myself, and I wanted to destroy the things that made you so scared. So I did. I tore up the letters at your feet, and I brought you home safe and sound.”
I looked and Gatsby with stars in my eyes and my heart larger than ever. “I love you,” I said. He burst into laughter, and my body moved with his rumbling chest. “I love you too, Nick,” He replied with joy in his eyes.
He picked me up again and I was carried to our room, where he gently set me down. I watched him move around and take off his clothes, I now noticed was covered in dirt, whereas I looked cleaner than ever. I immediately blushed, and he noticed, shooting a wink my way as he climbed in next to me.
We moved back into our cuddling position, and I fell asleep happier than ever.