crowded thoughts

for pride

grey and walker

Matt sends Sam a weird look, not understanding what he's saying, especially since he just ate an edible. To clarify, Sam hardly makes any sense to begin with, but for some reason his words are going in one ear and out the other. Everything seems a bit blurry, but not in a bad way. Shaking his head, Matt lets out a breath and continues to paint white over his canvas. Hearing Sam speak again, he turns his head and narrows his eyes at the boy. "What?" He asks, a bit exasperated.
"What?" Sam mutters, crossing his arms over his chest. Matt curls his lip in annoyance and rolls his eyes. "The attitude needs to go."
"Dude," Matt says, "I don't have an attitude. You just keep saying shit that doesn't make sense."
"Whatever." Matt closes his eyes for a quick second, and then he continues to paint over his ruined canvas. Sam whispers something under his breath. Looking up, Matt throws his paint brush down. "What?"
"What?" Sam acts innocent.
"What do you keep saying?" Matt demand to know, standing up to sit down next to him on the couch. Sam moves closer to the arm of the chair and pretends to be more angry than he actually is.
"I just...don't get why you're painting over my face just to paint Madison's," Sam tells him with shrugged shoulders. Matt lets out an annoyed breath and shakes his head.
"You're only acting like this because you're high," Matt tells him, rubbing the top of the bridge of his nose to relieve his headache. Sam shakes his head.
"I might be high, but I still know what's going on. I'm not dumb, Matt," he replies, still not looking over at him.
"It's for my project. I don't have a clean canvas and this painting I did of you was a rough draft anyway. You know this," Matt mumbles, his voice softening. He feels a bit bad, but not enough to stop painting over the canvas.
"Yeah, I get that. I'm not mad at that, I'm mad at who you're painting." Matt shakes his head.
"She's the person I chose for my portfolio. I have to keep painting her."
"You don't have to do anything."
"Sam, seriously? Dude, stop. I don't get mad at you for getting high with Reece," Walker confronts him, losing his soft voice.
"That's because she knows I'm not into her," Sam tells him, finally looking over at him. His brown eyes are red and droopy, almost like how he's feeling right now. Matt sucks in a breath. "You know, I actually tell people that I have someone in my life right now, and that I'm unavailable," he moves closer to Matt.
"You're high," Matt excuses, letting out a shaky breath.
"Again, I might be high, but I'm not dumb. You're scared," Sam whispers, raising his eyebrows. Matt feels Sam place a hand on his leg.
"What am I scared of?"
"You're scared to admit that you like me. I get it, I do. I really do. But you can't keep it a secret, especially not from someone like Madison. She knows things, and she'll find out. So, admit it. You like me," Sam quietly says, placing a hand on Matt's cheek. Matt blinks and stares at Sam for a second before saying anything.
"I don't like you."
"You do, though."
"I don't."
"Matt—"
"Sam—"
"Admit it." Matt glances down and then back up.
"I like you."

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