Suffocation

I bite my bottom lip roughly, contemplating whether to worry or not. To me, it doesn't seem like a big dea, it never has. I figure it's none of my business and sit silently, observing his every detail. He notices I'm staring and dares to hold my gaze. He's just waiting for me to turn away, but I don't, instead, I wait for him to talk. And his lips part, but he presses them together and turns his head... Failure.

"You know, families.. They're all bullshit. Well, mine is." I point out, "My brother Matt had got me into some sick shit once. When my parents found out, they sent him away." Sam gives me a questioning look, "And my mom is still a prostitute. And my dad might not be my dad. But it's all cool, I guess."

He rolls his eyes, "That's not that bad."

I nod. Of course it doesn't sound that bad. I had left out the bloody details about the prick who calls himself a father, "It probably doesn't, but we all have our own problems, right?"

He shrugs, fidgeting with his zipper. There is no noise, or anything, but it's so annoying... I actually have half the mind to pull it right off and shove it down his throat. Then my thoughs are sent back as I watch sadness cast itself on his features. I sigh, pondering how vulnerable he is. I know that this means I could get what I want and without much a fight, if I get lucky. But, what fun would that be? So - for once, I attempt to be caring. I hold my hand out infront of him. He glances at it then me.

"This doesn't mean anything. Not if you don't want it to. I'm just trying to be friendly." I mutter.

"This doesn't mean anything." He repeats a few times and places his hand in mine.

Then we both slip into our own worlds sitting quietly and staring at the nothing before us. My mind is swarmed with al the memories of my negative past and present. There;s the beating, the screaming, the rape and the suicidal murderer.. and the sacrificing. And then he's thinking about bad things, 'cause it's reflected on his face. Obviously, he's not like me. He's not proud of everything like I am. He might not admit all the bad he's been a part of. He seems scared. Maybe that's why I like him. But isn't that the only reason I ever like anyone?

Then again, I could be so wrong. Maybe that is just what he wants me to think. Perhaps under that tainted skin is a smart fellow. Maybe he wants me to spill sympathy all over him. Maybe he knows me and wants to break me! Maybe... I'm crazy and over reacting. I have to change the plans, now.. Blah.

I rise quickly and pull him along, "let's just be friends and work backwards from there."

Sam follows childishly, "You mean forward?"

"No," I shake my head, "backwards, dollface. You never want to move forward with a guy like me."

He's quiet for a few moments, "Exactly what are we going to do?"

I smile to myself, "What ever you want to do."

His grip on my hands lightens a bit, "What I want to do?" He questions.