Knock Me Down - [COMPLETE]

2 - Secrets

Jasper above.
Translations:
Mano - Short for "Hermano", it means brother. It's used between friends and siblings/family.
Menso - Inoffensive way of calling someone idiotic, dumb, silly, stupid
Cabeza de pija - Dickhead
Lo quieres matar? - you want to kill him?
Abuelita - A Hispanic Hot chocolate brand
Tomates - Tomatoes
Pepino - Cucumber
Limón - Lime
—

I think I annoy him. I feel like I've always annoyed Jasper. Even when all I do is sit and breathe. Like he still sees me as his friend's little brother. Helpless and always in need. Even without asking.

We've never talked. Like had a conversation kind of talking. One word responses was all that's ever been spoken.

I was trying to rake all the leaves from the yard. It was the fall season and the trees were naked and shedding their colorful leaves. My yard wasn't blessed with the pretty trees with the bright yellow or orange leaves, but crunchy brown leaves with bugs hidden within the piles I was attempting to keep together.

I'm working on a pile when the wind rushes it's body over and scatters it. Before it got to decorate the lawn, I sped up my sweeps to at least get most of them back but it's no use. Maybe I should have just put them in bags.

I went inside and got out a large scented garbage bag. I started putting the dead leaves into it when another gush of air ruffles my work out and away. I dive for my pile using my weight to hold it down. My hands are freezing, I don't have any gloves on and a spider crawls onto the back of my hand. I yell out of the contact that tickles my fingers.

When I stand up I face an amused Jasper.

Oh yeah. The only time he's not: nonchalant, dead, or irritated is when I'm suffering.

"Idiot"

He takes a rock and uses it to hold down the bag while he takes my rake and successfully combines a decent hill of tree litter. Of course the wind doesn't fucking huff and puff and blow that shit down when he does it. He transcends nature. He then puts it all in the bag and I find the decency to hold the bag open for him.

I see his face pause and his nose twitch subtly at the scent of the bag. He mumbles, "Pumpkin spice? Really?"

"It's seasonal spirit" I'm surprised I could make a casual response. He's always the one making me nervous, "I think it's charming"

He doesn't respond. He notices my hands and glares at me. He tosses the rake like he remembers he has no real business standing on my property and goes back into his house.

Asshole. If you don't like me so much don't do my chores for me. No one asked you to do it. He just couldn't have left me alone, instead of taking every chance to spit on my face? Cabeza de pija.

I say that feigning the fact I enjoy his help. That I like when he's here.

I'm mentally arguing with his ghost as I pick up the tool. My back aches from hunching in the garage earlier today when I was searching for the rake. Doing this was not fixing it either.

A minute later he comes back out with gloves. He takes my hand and places the soft fabric in them. He sighs, like I'm a bother, and it's translated to condensation by a cloud of mist I see escape his lips and disappear.

I don't know what to say to him. So I resort to what would have been a thank you but as soon as I open my mouth he firmly says "Shut up"

As he walks away I take the rake by the end and lift it up like I'm gonna knock the consciousness out of his body but I hear my brother call out, "Mateo! What the hell, 'mano? Lo quieres matar?!"