Let's Be Friends

Rose Tinted Glasses

The bus ride back was oddly quiet. As if the world had paused, slowed down. I sat side by side with Gray, editing my photo. My perfect photo. I just had to enhance the colors a bit, not much. I wanted to get it done before school today though. Its Wednesday, and that's too close to Friday for comfort.

Gray was pushed close up against my side, nearly asleep. 

"Don't go to sleep," I complained, "We still have school today."

He merely mumbled something before opening his eyes once more, to look at my photo. 

"It's very pretty."

"Thank you."

I worked carefully, with the precision of a surgeon in the middle of open-heart surgery. Each bar had to be ever so slightly raised or lowered, as to not add too much contrast or make the image too sharp. Photos have to be altered in just the way to make it beautiful and appealing without drastically changing the overall picture. Slight things, brightening, more warm light, could make the biggest difference on how much people liked it.

"Why did you go into photography Stephen?" He asked, his bright eyes had been watching ever so alertly as I changed details in the photo.

I sighed, "I like to look at the world through rose tinted glasses, and through photos and slight alterations I can help others look at it like that too."

He smiled, "So poetic." His hand rubbed the fabric of my sweater, it was a softer material.

"Why'd you chose psychology?"

His bright eyes dimmed a bit now, a piece of happiness melted away, "Well, maybe in the beginning I wanted to make a difference. Be a therapist, help people. You know?"

I nodded in response.

"But I think now, people are beyond saving. So perhaps at this point I just like to break people down and see what makes them.. well, them."

Beyond saving?

"That's not a very optimistic take on it." 

He sighed, leaning back and looking at the ceiling. "In this world, everyone has sex young, has kids young, can't tend to those kids, CPS doesn't give a fuck, so these kids are getting raised in broken households. And then when those kids get older, they have similar tendencies. The longing to have sex, to hurt those around them even people that they claim to love, cut themselves off from people. And once I figured that out on my own, I decided it would be far too difficult to try to heal a world like this."

"That's terrible."

He straightened up, and moved away from me just a little so that he wasn't leaned up on me. He was always very touchy. There was now a gap between us, a space. I wanted him close, I wanted to hold his hand and tell him it was going to be alright, I wanted to share blankets and go on date spontaneously. This simple action hurt more than it should've, and perhaps this realization made me hate the fact I hadn't kissed him on the beach. 

"Are you alright?" I asked, trying not to sound too concerned, though I was doing a poor job masking it.

"Yeah." His words were empty, there was no definitive answer in them. At first glance, his posture was perfect, and in the early morning light he looked adorable and perfectly fine. Yet, upon second glance, he was obviously upset. Not an angry upset, he looked sad.

"Gray..?" I extended a hand to him, and he flinched when it touched his shoulder, completely tensing up and jumping away nearly. It hurt, not physically, but to see him flinch away from my touch like I was about to hit him. I didn't pull my hand away, maybe I should've but I didn't.