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     When Joseph had finally successfully tugged Lark into the men's bathroom, he gripped onto both of Lark's red colored hips, and hoisted him onto a marble countertop

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When Joseph had finally successfully tugged Lark into the men's bathroom, he gripped onto both of Lark's red colored hips, and hoisted him onto a marble countertop. Lark wiped at his eyelids, cleaning them from red paint.

Joseph reached for paper towels, wetting them, before tentatively wiping one at Lark's cheek. No words were said as Joseph cleaned Lark of the redness.

     But only moments later, there were silent tears flowing from Lark's eyes—those eyes that had Joseph taking Lark's cheeks in his hands, wiping the tears with both thumbs.

"Please, don't cry, Lark. I-I'm so sorry I didn't stop him," Joseph whispered, he himself almost shedding his own set of tears. "I should've stopped him."

Lark frowned through a hazed set of tears. "W-What do you mean, you should've stopped him. This isn't your fault. Bobby's evil—"

"No, it is my fault. I knew this was coming—"

Lark abruptly pushed Joseph's figure away, his face holding a look of accusation. "What do you mean, you knew? How could you not tell me? I thought we were at least—kinda friends—"

"We were—we are! I'm so sorry," Lark paused, glancing up at Joseph who began to walk closer again, both hands leaning onto the countertop, cornering Lark in. "I'm sorry."

Lark shook his head, only wanting Joseph closer, closer, and closer. "It's not your fault, I-I'm sorry for getting angry."

Joseph was adamant on cleaning the remainder of the red paint from Lark's upper body. While, only about ten minutes later, paper towel flooded the flooring, and Lark's face was back to its pale coloring.

Joseph's hand still worked at Lark's nose, cleaning the crevices and creases of the small button-like facial feature. Lark found himself staring longingly, remembering what Joseph's lips felt like on his nose.

Why was he so obsessed? This was exactly why he had been outed in the first place—his erratical instinct to trust whatever a boy said to make him smile. It was sickening. Lark was easy. Easy to fool, easy to bewitch. And he could only hope that Joseph wouldn't hurt him like Andy had.

     But something in Joseph's eyes told him everything would be okay.

     And after that night, everything was.

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