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"Yeah, yeah, so we, um...we went to the archives in Charleston, and, uh..." John B explained, ricocheting over at his quiet and calm father, who lay on the hammock, nearly sounding like he was asking for approval.
All of the interested and quiet pouges sat around the chaotic backyard, using many small folding chairs, or small tree stubs that were cut down ages around.
With a small and cool beer can in our hands, occasionally taking a small sip. Nevertheless, JJ and I sat farther from each other than expected. He was the first to take a seat, but I was the first to choose the farthest one. Keeping our uneasy distance away, which was possibly incoherent on his side.
We left on a good note an hour ago, but thereafter, thanks when I dragged myself in the mud but raised him in the air to praise him. Which over time, would become one of my regrets. I don't want him to get used to me covering him up and making him look like the good guy. I can't keep playing this game and keeping him safe from everyone.
However, he was a narcotic that I treasured taking, but fuck I wanted to get away. Far as ever if I could. Just like every addiction people have in their lives. I was vulnerable to him, but I was attempting to overcome his strength. Like every other drug, it washed over me, and I was under a spell.
He was a special drug. Sometimes I loved being addicted, sometimes I wanted to get away, sometimes I wanted more. I don't know what I want anymore.
Our eyes scorched into the leader pouge, who sat near me, on a heavy tree stub, holding a strong beer while the story dripped out of his mouth.
Yet, the more phrases he slipped, the more my illogical brain started to ache, attempting to secretly attach his recap on my own due to his perplexity. But it seemed like he wasn't trying either, and neither did his father chime in to finish the story. He couldn't care less.
John B corked a brow with every sentence, almost like he was making everything up on the fly. His deep voice was low, and he seemed to be hiding important information while he occasionally glanced toward his father, taking an answer.
And most of the time, it seemed like the answer was a no. Which caused many gaps in the story that simply left us baffled, and uninterested.
I can catch a lie off the fly. Over time, I accomplished that skill and was able to have the power to see through people. And that helped me in many ways. It helped me further in this situation. But while everyone was losing interest, I grew more, making an effort to discover what information he would pull, and the untruth facial expression he would use. Because it simply wasn't turning out well for him.
