🅔🅐🅡🅣🅗 🅞🅝🅔 // 💫

sօբԵ ҽվҽs

Those eyes of his.

Doesn't he understand how much I care for him?

I mean...

I'm here, helping him through perhaps the Hardest time in his life...

His father.
His father is horrid.
So we devised our scheme...

Prom.

Tickets.

He doesn't even understand what it is I have to do to get these damn little paper slips...
It's almost comical to think about.

He's... Almost like my angel. He's light, and soft... Every time I touch him, even just his arm... I'm scared he'll shatter like glass.
He's that light.

Sometimes I wonder what's weighing him down to the ground. What pulls him to the floor? Keeping him on his feet?

If a huge gust of wind blew through, would he be swept away? To a better place... Maybe that's what he dreams about. A place far, far away from here...

"James... Dude, you're doing it again. Hellllooo? Earth to Jaaaamess..."

His hand scrolls past my eyes, snapping me back... Shit.

"Oh, hey. Sorry, I was just- Well. Thinking."
I promptly tap the side of my head, offering an awkward smile to my friend as he rolls his eyes in response.

He picks up his food, and simply begins to eat in utter silence.

It takes every fibre of my being not to lean over, and gently wipe off the mustard beside his soft, pink lips.

"... Vince, gotta lil' something..." I vaguely motion to the side of my lip and he immediately cleans it up, looking out the window in embarrassment.

"Thanks."

"My pleasure.."

I release a quiet sigh, turning my eyes out the window.

... Not even the green leaves of the summer could match those eyes of his...

Not the grass, not the leaves, not even jade.
His eyes? Beautiful emeralds...

"... Vincent, I gotta go ask her. I'll be back eventually, hopefully with the tickets."

My voice mumbles out, sliding slowly from my throat. I hear them tinted with disgust, Vincent seems to mistake it for excitement.

He then attempts to match my "enthusiasm".

"Alright! Go get 'er tiger!" He snickers before resuming his lunch.

My heart sinks just that little bit lower, knowing he'd never feel the same...

Why can't he just...

Care.

... Regardless, I have a girl to go talk to. Knowing her? She'll ask something of me I'm not willing to give...

... But for him? ... Anything.

I think of those eyes as we chat, and as she leads me out of the building and to her car to take me to her house...

His eyes.
His hair.

Him.

... I hate myself for this.