"You dont have to look at me like I'm a freak." I was taken back by the blunt statement he made.
"I don't think you're a freak." His eyes met mine. Those eyes. They were so beautiful. They had that dull frightening look in them though. "You're broken, not a freak." I whispered to him. The feeling I had deep inside me was overwhelming. I wanted to touch him, see if such a beautiful, wounded creature was here for real.
"I'm not broken, I'm fine." He had a lost look to his eyes. I wanted so bad to touch his face. To feel him, to take in his aura. To have him to myself.
"Honey, don't lie to me." My hands almost shook from the need to touch his face. He faced foreward and began scribbling a name down on his paper.
"Tony? I like that name." He gripped his pencil and his knuckles turned white as he looked at me.
"I hate my name" His voice was almost offended and slightly shakey. He didn't want to talk to me.
"You shouldn't." I took that as a blow. I felt as if he kicked me in the gut.
"And you care why?" He was annoyed.
"You can stop now. You don't know my story and you don't know what I'm going through. Don't make this worse than it already is." My words were sharp and took him by suprise. But I didn't tolerate that at all.
YOU ARE READING
Coffee and Cigarettes
Teen FictionHis eyes were, at one time, a stunning blue. Now they were dull and dead. He moved slow and was kinda wierd. Of course, the seat next to me was the only empty one. Fabulous! I asked to be seated alone due to the fact I dont like human interaction. A...
