Fifty Shades of Friar

Night Knight

Sometimes I want to take you down
Sometimes I want to get you low
Brush your hair back from your eyes
Take you down let the river flow
Sometimes I go and walk the street
Behind the green sheet of glass
A million miles below their feet
A million miles, a million miles

- Low; Cracker
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"Mysteries of attraction could not always be explained through logic. Sometimes the fractures in two separate souls became the very hinges that held them together."

― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Winter
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We left the arcade around eight.

It took me a while to pull Jonathan away from the games because he was too obsessed in beating the highest score. Luckily, Brandon had decided to stay after he got his package from his dealer and helped me carry Jonathan out of the arcade building. Lonnie had given me a small bag of sugar cookies on our way out and to my relief because it was made it easier to convince Jonathan to leave.

We went back to my apartment to pack up the rest of his clothes and later made our way over to the Matthew's. I was conflicted heading over there. Of course, I love visiting the family who took me in and helped guide me away from a path where I could have ended rock bottom but a huge portion of me knew that Josh is most likely there. I didn't hate him; my feelings for him were still wandering about. I just didn't feel like having a confrontation with him about us possibly getting back together or go through another round of awkwardness with him obviously flirting with me.

I was grateful that Brandon was accompanying us. He was like a breath of fresh air with his arrogant comments that amuse me and playful behavior towards my little brother keeps me at ease since Jonathan's laughter is a nice little distraction. Right now, watching Jonathan attempt to perform the same moves as Brandon over the rails and poles, I was able to sit back and relax as the jolting vibrations of the subway cart massaged my backside. I had my arm slung over Jonathan's luggage and Brandon's package as a cautious act. I know some people enjoy to pick-pocket when they could.

There wasn't much to do in the subway. Unfortunately, we got the cart where it is filled. There were many kinds of people here of all races from the Hispanics to the Asians to the Europeans and many more. They're not bad people. They're actually great with their stories of their cultures and rich heritages but they're still strangers to me and I don't really get along with strangers. I barely get along with the people I know now.

I decided to bring out my sketchbook and idly paint a random picture that goes along with whatever mood I am in. Which was boredom. So my page was soon covered in scribbles and dark shades in random spots. Sometimes the jolt of the cart would send me off course but I'd quickly clean it off by rubbing it out with my finger and lightly erasing it. Once in a while, I would glance up to see Jonathan and Brandon still being a bunch of monkeys on the rails and poles, their behavior not being a bother by the other passengers. Although, beside me, I could see a young man pointing his phone at them and when he lowered it, he looked like he was typing.

Snapchat addict. I narrowed my eyes at him. Just as he was going to post it, I quickly snatched his phone out of his hands and deleted it before I tossed the phone back on his lap.

"Yo, what the fuck?" he asked angrily as I went back to my sketchbook.

"Shouldn't film little kids, you ass," I said bluntly.

"And who said you could take my phone, bitch?"

"Nobody. And who said you could record my little brother, asshole?"