caged // ambrollins

contemplation

seth's pov

some time gone by, he hasn't really spoken much to me at all. what's going on in his mind? i often think to myself why he hasn't opened up to me much, but then again, he is a mental patient. not much trust can be gained so quickly, which answers my question because we're in a mental institute.

i shake my head slightly at the writings in my journal. i could write a whole book on dean just by looking at him and his actions. he's a weird one for sure.

i'm hoping that sandwich did him some justice. he was all skin and bones beforehand, what do they feed them? surely they can't underfeed them, right? not my concern. 

dean looked over to me with a scowling look in his eye. he must still be hungry, i could tell by his eyes. they're sharp. his eyebrows furrowed as he slowly turned his head away, his back towards me now. so much for a conversation, hm?

as i wrote more in my journal, i heard a low voice from behind the glass -- it sounded somewhat echoed and muffled, but it was enough to where i could hear it properly --, "when are you gonna let me out? don't you know i'm suffering? "

i cocked my head slightly to the side, " you're clearly still in it in the head, ambrose. you must be crazy to think you're mentally capable of leaving yet. you probably still have some years to go-- ''

god, what was i saying?

that sure pissed him off. he turned around slightly, staring at me, '' crazy? rub it in why don't you. put yourself in my shoes and hand me that journal, and you can see how it feels to be in here. " he let out a low chuckle, one hand on his cell. 

i shook my cranium, " no sir, no can do. ''

he rolled his eyes, '' what the hell are you writing down anyways? how handsome i am? " he smirked at me. i rolled my eyes in response to his vulgar remark, " you're not in the right capacity to romanticize, ambrose. keep your remarks to yourself. ''

am i too harsh? or am i not being harsh enough? 

i sighed, watching him turn back as i wrote more in my journal.

i thought back to what he thought to what he proposed to me. i said  yes. i told him yes. what was i doing? i'm not sure. but ambrose seems ,,, good. very good at hiding plans. even when it's just us two, he doesn't bother to mention it. well played.

i've got to do my part as well. in hopes that he can see pass my layers of '' professionalism '', i suppose. he's still crazy. but maybe with the response i gave him to that preposition, i'm probably just as crazy as him. why? 

i may never know for sure.