Intersect. [MH] (Editing in Process)

You Will And I Will Too.

SOTC: Time - Kasbo
CW: Mention of drug use/abuse.
Archer.

  "Funny,"

  Matty was sat comfortably beside me on the hood of his '67 Impala – apparently dearly beloved to him – smoking a cigarette; Marlboro. Of course, dripping originality.

  I'd grown rather fond of the messy lad. His curls bounced as he inhaled from the halfway burnt, neat cylinder, and turned to look at me. His eyebrows knit together,

  "What is?"

  His voice was coarse and seething, almost impure in a sense of the word. I could feel the fatigued energy radiating off of him, the way he shifted slowly onto his elbows gave it away.

  He hadn't slept in days. That, he had told me. The dark circles – faint greys and purples – beneath his eyes held truths that we both knew he wouldn't dare to speak aloud. And I wouldn't push him to either, we barely knew each other and I couldn't expect him to open up to a stranger; I wouldn't.

  I shrugged. That was the first word that had left my mouth throughout the entirety of the day, he didn't seem to mind. In fact, he displayed a monetary shock when I spoke.

  Sure, I wanted to have a conversation with him and speak about whatever came up organically but I couldn't think rationally. The constant self-doubt coursing through my mind fucked me up more than I'd ever lead on. Sometimes it dulled my speech, other times; I wouldn't say or do anything at all. Jumbling everything up wasn't something I was necessarily keen on doing.

  Matty and I hadn't spoken to one another in a week and three days, but no one was keeping count.

  I sometimes felt guilty for letting myself relax around him but quickly wound up reminding myself that comfort in the presence of others was a good thing and I needed to stop overreacting.

  "Coke,"

     A smile fell upon my lips. The reason; unbeknownst to me.

  "I used, before I got fucked up and my mind basically imploded."

  Matty's nearly ashen lips curved upwards, mimicking my own, they were affable, welcoming in some kind of way. The manner in which they curved slightly upwards in anticipation of a smile, how it never lasted long enough for a legitimate smile to surface. He brought me endless amounts of frustration in the short time I'd known him, not that he'd ever be aware.

  I had no trouble expressing the events of my past to him; the present is what I struggled to disclose to anyone.

  "Didn't peg me as the type,"

  Matty chuckled half heartedly under his breath, he reached into the interior pocket of his worn in fur jacket and pulled out a sealed carton of cigarettes, I rolled my eyes. His clothing choices were a mystery to me, and I loved it, at least I'd grown to. He was wearing his black denim jeans as per usual. His top half on the other hand, was draped in a white button up blouse, decorated with several clusters of pink flowers, all different shades that seemed to work together in harmony. The black fur jacket was only the cherry on top of the cake. He dressed himself as if he were a canvas and his clothing was both the paint and the materials,

  "Of course not, as far as anyone knows, I'm completely innocent."

  I felt his cold hand brush mine momentarily to place a single cigarette in the palm of my hand, I flinched. It pulled me out of my mind and into reality,