Page 97 of Beautiful Disaster

“In a way, it has.” I sip on a glass of Fiano di Avellino, people-watching. “If you could choose to live here or stay in Durango, which would you choose?”

Jinx thinks about it for a second, sipping his water. “That’s a tough one. I mean, I love it here, but Durango is more than a place, ya know? It’s family. The only family I’ve ever known.”

Just as I thought. It’s something to consider as I go through thoughts and ideas to keep Jinx while salvaging my reputation. For now, I’ll see what he comes up with when we get back into town.

After lunch, Jinx takes my hand in his, forking our fingers together. His fingers tighten and rub absentmindedly, and he points excitedly at the sights. It’s such a small thing, but his growing affection does things to me. In such a short time, he’s gone from being closed off to being openly expressive and loving. You can see the fear wash away from him as the confidence builds. All the more reason to hold on tightly to him. I never want to see that go away.

We get some strange looks since Italy is still relatively conservative, but no one bothers us as we walk through Piazza del Campo. Even in the cooler temperatures, the area is filled with tourists.

Jinx takes several pictures on his phone, including selfies of us, then rushes off to some gift shops to bring home souvenirs.

“It’s so weird to see all this modern stuff smack dab in the middle of ancient buildings that probably look the same as they did when they were first built. And everyone walks. There are hardly any cars here. It’s crazy to me.”

I love Jinx’s awe in everything. He sees life with fresh eyes. I say nothing, unable to stop watching him.

We slowly wind through the narrow side streets, lined in brick or stone. It’s quieter through here. It’s easy to get lost in the past, imagining how it looked five hundred or seven hundred years ago.

Jinx yanks me to a stop. “Oh, look!” he says, pointing at a boutique shop for leather goods. “I read you should buy some leather stuff in Italy.”

He takes my hand again and drags me into the little shop. I’ve just let him run this show since this is his first time overseas. I’m happy with whatever we do.

“Buongiorno,” I greet the salesperson.

Before Jinx reaches for a jacket hanging on a rack, I grab his hand and shake my head. “Let the clerk do it. Shopping is more interactive here than in the States.”

“Oh, okay.”

The salesperson greets me in Italian and asks what we’d like to look at.

“He wants to know what you’re interested in, Precious.”

“Ah… la giacca,” he says in Italian. “I’ve been trying to learn Italian. Just some words and shit.”

“I’m sure you’ll be speaking it in no time.”

The man grabs several jackets he thinks would look good on Jinx and picks the correct size. We step over to a full-length mirror, and he hands Jinx the first leather jacket. He removes his warmer one and hands it to me.

The salesman helps him shrug it on and checks the fit. Jinx turns his body this way and that, checking it out in the mirror. It’s a dark brown leather, and it fits him like a glove.

“When’s your birthday, Mason?” he asks randomly. “You’re turning 40 soon, right?”

“Don’t remind me.”

He eyes me in the mirror and smirks. “Well, now I definitely have to know.”

Jinx removes the jacket, hands it to the man, who hangs it back up, and tries on the next one. It’s a warmer brown and looks intentionally vintage. I like that one better on him.

“It’s in May. May 16th.”

“We’re gonna have to throw you a huge party,” he chuckles. “I really like this one.”

“Me too.”

“I never knew when my birthday was. Only a vague idea of my age. None of us knew. We picked a day as our birthday and celebrated. We’d sneak in dry cupcakes or cookies we grabbed at a convenience store. It’s kind of sad when you think about it.” Jinx tries on the next jacket, a black one this time. “The day I picked was the day Aleks got hurt because of me. It was the day that changed me forever. I’ll never forget it either. July 18th.”

Jinx has been talking more about his life outside the safety of my arms in bed. It truly shows his level of comfort and growth around me. While I love his openness, hearing his stories is always fucking painful. He talks about his past as if it’s just another day growing up. Even something as small as picking a day to celebrate with friends over stale cookies and cupcakes was meaningful to him. To me, it’s a knife in my heart that cuts deeper and deeper the more I learn.

Jinx removes the black jacket and shakes his head. He definitely looks better in brown. It makes his eyes pop. The last jacket is tan. “Oh, this one is the same color as Waffle. God, wouldn’t it be funny if we matched?”