Jason & Darius |Craving Yours| ✔

2.Mine & Yours

Darius Dixon

"Tell me about how you two met?" Jason said, pulling a bar stool and getting comfortable by the breakfast nook.

I automatically walked over to him and placed a cup of black coffee and a plate of bacon and eggs before him. I didn't notice what I was doing until he asked for milk. I was treating him like he was Mason. Mason never took his coffee with milk and he always liked his eggs scrambled. Judging by the way Jason was picking at them this was not a shared trait. 

"Sorry I should have asked," I said gesturing to his plate.

"No, it's fine. I am just a picky eater. Thank you." He mumbled then poured some milk into his coffee turning it into a coffee milkshake instead of actual coffee. The absurdity of the situation made me smile. 

"What?" He asked looking up at me. 

"You are so different from him," I said before sipping my coffee and settling into the chair opposite his.

He did not respond. He toyed with his eggs again before finally lifting his head up and saying "Did you guys have breakfast together here?" 

It finally dawned on me that he was asking about how we met because he wanted to talk about Mason. He already knew the story but it was a way of remembering his brother. So instead of answering his breakfast question, I told him the story of how Mason and I met. 

"Well, I remember the day I met Mason. Well, I don't remember the weather or the time but I remember the lady at the counter of the grocery store we were in. Mason was standing impatiently in line just in front of me. He was wearing that ridiculous neon green t-shirt he liked so much. Among all the serious people in the shop, he stuck out like a sore thumb. He stood in line tapping his foot furiously as the lady at the counter-argued with a scruffy looking guy. There were several people in front of me so it was hard to decipher what was going on but the argument seemed heated. I was ready to leave the store and find another one when Mason turned to me and asked for the time. I actually just closed and opened my mouth like a gaping fish because I wasn't expecting him to be as attractive as he was or for him to actually speak to me. After he had raised an eyebrow I had scrambled with my phone to tell him it was just after two. Of course, he had laughed at me and asked why I had a wristwatch if I used my phone to check the time. And a few minutes later we were exchanging phone numbers." I smiled at my coffee remembering how embarrassed I was when I came home that day. 

Jason leaned over and used his thumb to wipe a stray tear off my face with a look of understanding on his face. Something in me found the action unsettling but I didn't think much of it. 

"Tell me your best memory of him," I said, moving back just to create some distance between us and directing the attention on Jason. 

"There are too many I couldn't possibly pick one," Jason said looking down. 

I didn't pressure him but instead drank my coffee silently. Mason was gone. He was actually dead. Mason was never coming back. It was all hitting me slowly. Now that  I had allowed myself to sit and think about him. It almost felt like a large part of my soul and personality was gone. Mason was really never coming back. 

Jason startled me when I felt his hand slide over mine on the table. He gave my hand a comforting gentle squeeze. As if trying to tell me it was going to be okay. Which he also voiced. My mind was cloudy and my heart was erratic. How could Mason do this to me now? How could he die just before we start our lives? We already had everything planned out now I had to start again, alone. Plan with someone else. Meet someone else. Go on many endless boring first dates. Worry about which shirt matches which tie. Meet new parents. I thought all those things were over when I met Mason. How could he betray like that? 

Again Jason leaned over and wiped my tears with his thumb. The same thumb that was squeezing my mind minutes ago. 

"I am sorry." He said looking like he regretted saying sorry. 

There wasn't much to say besides sorry. But saying it did not make anyone feel better so I didn't blame him for not having the right words to say. 

"Are you done?" I said gesturing to his plate and removing his hand from my face. 

"Don't worry about it, I will load the dishwasher," he said before standing up and taking his plate to the sink.

I stood up and made my way to the bathroom. Nothing like a good hot shower to wake me up and remove all my sorrows. I switched on the shower and stepped in gingerly. I let the harsh powerful drops of water splash against my skin as I remembered more memories about Mason and I.