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"Is this boring you?" Jasper asked inquisitively after I yawned and stretched my legs. He was sitting on the couch next to me, leaning forward on his knees and taught with suspense. We'd been watching a mundane thriller in the Common and since it was two in the morning, we had the place to ourselves.

"Nope." A smile stretched across my face as he turned quickly back to the television. "Now, see, I don't understand why she's running."

Jasper looked gave me a dubious look, and spoke slowly.

"He's trying to kill her. People are inclined to run when their lives are in danger."

"I know that. I just... he's hot, right?"

Jasper grinned.

"Yes, he's a wet dream incarnate."

"Okay. So, why doesn't she just buy a Kama sutra book, read up on some good sex strategies and give him a great screw so that he won't blow her brains out?" A heavy sigh leaked out of his mouth as he turned to face me.

"First off, he'll probably kill her even if she's Marilyn Monroe, as he is evil and a typical male, thus he is perfectly fine with a one-night stand. Secondly, most women have a little more respect for themselves than to go around desperately whoring themselves to a would-be assassin. Sex isn't an international currency; it's not God."

Did he just say that sex wasn't everything? Were his eyes really that green? Was it possible that he was really this per-

No. I tried to bring those thoughts to a stop, but the last syllable rang in my mind. Perfect. No one is perfect. The stain of the last person I thought was perfect was indelibly soaked into every inch of my heart. It left me with a new mantra; no one is perfect, and anyone who appears perfect has mammoth underlying flaws. I repeated this to myself as I pulled my knees away from him and turned to face the TV.

"Right." My voice dripped with cynicism. I noticed him staring at me through the corner of my eye, and found a new interest in the movie. After a few moments he followed suit with a heavy sigh.

"So she goes to the hairy Jew? Brilliant." My attempt to inject a light humour into the air failed miserably.

"He's a good man. She trusts him." Jasper spoke in a way that I'd never imagined he could sound; cold, dejected and cynical. I turned to face him, but his jaw was set and his face like stone. "Not that any of that matters to someone like you."

Someone like... me. Someone like me? I was trying my best to be angry, outraged at him. I could hear the words ringing in my head, a simple phrase that would set off a screaming match, but my mouth did not move. Instead we both sat there, not really watching the film until it was over, each of us wanting to say things that were swallowed up by our better reasoning.

Description
"Is this boring you?" Jasper asked inquisitively after I yawned and stretched my legs. He was sitting on the couch next to me, leaning forward on his knees and taught with suspense. We'd been watching a mundane thriller in the Common and since it was two in the morning, we had the place to ourselves.

"Nope." A smile stretched across my face as he turned quickly back to the television. "Now, see, I don't understand why she's running."

Jasper looked gave me a dubious look, and spoke slowly.

"He's trying to kill her. People are inclined to run when their lives are in danger."

"I know that. I just... he's hot, right?"

Jasper grinned.

"Yes, he's a wet dream incarnate."

"Okay. So, why doesn't she just buy a Kama sutra book, read up on some good sex strategies and give him a great screw so that he won't blow her brains out?" A heavy sigh leaked out of his mouth as he turned to face me.

"First off, he'll probably kill her even if she's Marilyn Monroe, as he is evil and a typical male, thus he is perfectly fine with a one-night stand. Secondly, most women have a little more respect for themselves than to go around desperately whoring themselves to a would-be assassin. Sex isn't an international currency; it's not God."

Did he just say that sex wasn't everything? Were his eyes really that green? Was it possible that he was really this per-

No. I tried to bring those thoughts to a stop, but the last syllable rang in my mind. Perfect. No one is perfect. The stain of the last person I thought was perfect was indelibly soaked into every inch of my heart. It left me with a new mantra; no one is perfect, and anyone who appears perfect has mammoth underlying flaws. I repeated this to myself as I pulled my knees away from him and turned to face the TV.

"Right." My voice dripped with cynicism. I noticed him staring at me through the corner of my eye, and found a new interest in the movie. After a few moments he followed suit with a heavy sigh.

"So she goes to the hairy Jew? Brilliant." My attempt to inject a light humour into the air failed miserably.

"He's a good man. She trusts him." Jasper spoke in a way that I'd never imagined he could sound; cold, dejected and cynical. I turned to face him, but his jaw was set and his face like stone. "Not that any of that matters to someone like you."

Someone like... me. Someone like me? I was trying my best to be angry, outraged at him. I could hear the words ringing in my head, a simple phrase that would set off a screaming match, but my mouth did not move. Instead we both sat there, not really watching the film until it was over, each of us wanting to say things that were swallowed up by our better reasoning.