We ended up at a restaurant.
"You still sad?" He pouted looking down at me. "Smile cam." I looked up at him and I was trying not to give in. "Smile." He put his finger under my chin and I couldn't help but smile.
"There it is." He said proceeding to put his arm over my shoulders. My face grew hot and I stiffen at his touch.
If I wasn't me, I'd think we were a couple.
It's so weird how comfortable he is already.
I've known him for less than a week. But I mean I did make out with him the other day so who am I.
We sat down and I guess I was frowning because Paris has something to say.
I almost didn't hear the first part because he grabbed my hand in his. "Look Cameron, I know you don't know me well, but that can easily be fixed. I care about you and I hate seeing you like this. You need to stop doubting yourself because some idiot was inconsistent with you." He shrugged probably looking for the right words.
"What I'm trying to say is that I'd never do that to you. And stop blaming yourself. It's not your fault that prick was insecure." I studied his face looking for intention in his eyes.
I came up blank or maybe I couldn't think because his hand was still on mine.
I couldn't help but think how perfect they looked together. We both had chipped nail polish on our fingers.
"You're right. It's not my fault." I wanted to believe that whole heartedly but a piece of me kept insuring that it was my fault.
"Thanks Paris." They called out our order. He gave my hand a little squeeze then got up to get the food.
I looked down at my pink drink wondering what the next step for me was.
Obviously continue working, but it's like I can't see beyond that. I feel like I'm in a hole.
As soon as Paris sat back down the rain stopped pouring down on my parade.
"Where the hell are we?"
"Some town named Simpsonville." He answered.
"What the fuck kind of name is that?" I laughed.
"If I'd have the honor to name a city I'd name it something dumb too."
"Yeah like what?"
"Paris." I joked and got him to lose his shit.
"Bet, I'd name mine Cameron."
"Hey that's pretty cool." I drank my tea to stop laughing.
We took another bite of our food and prepared for the next topic of interest.
"Why do you have little lines on your fingers?" he asked. I had dozens of tiny scars running up my fingers.
I swallowed what was in my mouth and shrugged. "I used to cut myself when I was a kid." He got uncomfortable before I could continue.
"Oh my bad cam I—
"-It's fine. I don't think I did it because I was depressed I just liked how it felt."
He had my hand in his and studied them. "What about this one. It's huge." I looked at the one in my palmed and got the flashback.
"I used to bread chicken at a restaurant in Phoenix and I was opening a bag of it with a fillet knife and I was cutting towards myself. Before I knew it the chicken was covered in my blood and I had an enormous gash. I Haye the doctor so I just went home but this shot kept bleeding for hours." I looked up to see Paris and was hooked.
