• ೃ⁀➷ ❛ put your hands on my waist, do it softly. ❜

An angel, is what Jimmy thought the first time he laid eyes upon you. When you first stumbled onto these carnival grounds, looking for a place to stay the night, Jimmy was the first one to find you lying beside one of the tents in the cold rain. He didn’t want to let you stay out there to freeze so he brought you to Elsa. Her first reaction was to get rid of you but you were willing to work there, day and night if it meant having a roof over your head—she let you stay with those conditions. Perhaps it was meant to be that you had come here. You got along with the rest, they didn’t mind you were normal. Except for Jimmy, really. He thought he was a monster—he was afraid that if he touched you, he might defile you. But you didn’t understand, you weren’t afraid of him; he was the reason you had a home.

During one of the show rehearsals for the upcoming show, Jimmy was stressed out more than usual by everything going on. When you had kept asking Jimmy if he was okay, he had snapped at you for being ‘incessantly annoying’. He didn’t mean it—but he knew he hurt your feelings regardless. Later on at night, you sat in one of the backstage tents that was dimly lit by a fancy lantern. Your eyes carefully going over the blocking of the show, Jimmy quietly made his way in. There was a small moment of silence as he gazed over you with reverence like he was seeing an angel again; your face halfway obscured by shadow, your eyes lit up by light, he longed to comfort you with touch but how could he when his hands were what made him disgusting? You noticed him through the mirror as he walked up to you.

“Hey, uh, I’m sorry,” Jimmy looked down for a moment, hands in his pockets. “For yelling at you earlier.”