(feels like we only go backwards - tame impala)
Words were written all over his face, but other people didn't see them. They only saw his facade, as they walked by them.
Like two ordinary teenagers sitting on a bench, smoking their cigarettes. But that wasn't just it. They were homeless. They had nowhere to go, nowhere to live or sleep.
She could see the words. She knew how he was feeling. He yearned for somebody who cared. His eyes followed the people walking by, but not one of them, was looking at him. The feeling of nobody wanting you, nobody to really care about how you feel.
Only because she felt the same. Sometimes she cried herself to sleep. Nobody knew, nobody wanted to know, because people don't give a damn. The selfish people with money in their wallets, enough for them to live a happy life. But they still wanted more. More money, more of the good life. The richest is the saddest.
What she didn't know, was why he was homeless. Why he ended up like this. But she thought that the reason why they didn't ask each other, was because they didn't want to be asked themselves. They were scared of the truth.
He curled the cigarette on the bench, stopping the smoke. There was barely anything left of it. He fixed his hair, by brushing his wavy hair strands back. His eyes kept on following those walking by them. His lips were parted, and she could hear his steady breathing. Even though the traffic noise was noticeable, and people were talking, she heard it.
He turned his head. "What?" His eyes locked with hers for a second, but then they went down to the cigarette in her mouth. As she inhaled, the end lit brighter.
"Nothing," Elizabeth breathed out, the grey smoke curling into the air. She did the same as he did right before, crunching it down in the bench, probably leaving a mark in the dry wood.
He rolled his eyes, turning his head away from her again. He wasn't in such a cocky mood as yesterday, which she was just grateful for.
At first, she hated the fact that he kept coming back. Of course Brad didn't care, but even though she didn't like him, or his behavior, it was nice with some company. She could tell he didn't like her as well, but they still stayed together.
"You need money right?" His voice was raspy and suddenly a little deep.
She nodded and looked at him. He looked pure. He was - with no alcohol in his blood, and no expression on his face.
"If you're up for it," He turned his direction towards her. "We could crash a party, and steal money and stuff like that."
She was a bit surprised by his sudden severity. He just gawked at her with no emotion or whatsoever. "We could?" She raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think I wanna do it with you?"
"Because you have no experience." He stated.
"And you have-"
"Chill, it's a fucking offer - accept it or not." He spat, and it was like the purity of his voice was gone. "I just thought you could use the money we would make. It's easier when you are two." He dropped his cigarette on the floor, and stepped on it with his foot.
"I don't know you." She said after some time. For her it was hard to trust people she didn't know. Actually anyone.
"Yeah well, does it look like I'm gonna offer you candy and fucking kidnap you, so I can have sex with you, Lucifer?" He said harsh, but she didn't answer.
"Didn't think so." He snapped. Then silence took over them yet again. She was considering his offer. She needed money, she wanted to be with someone, tired of being alone.
"Okay." She said, breaking the silence. He snapped his head toward her, almost looking astonished.
"Good choice." He said and lit up another cigarette. He was addicted. Just like Elizabeth was starting to get.
