brown haired boy ✓

seven.

"...what you do to me..." ending on b minor, i sang the last line, looking over at miles who was sitting there, staring at the grass, his forearms resting on his bent knees as he hunched over.

his eyes were glossy as he looked up at me. and even though he was high and his emotions were being overly hyped, you could still tell he was feeling a deep pain.

"she used to sing that to me," his raspy voice explained, reaching for his pocket and digging out a pack of cigarettes frantically as if his life depended on getting a smoke in his system quickly.

"your mom?"

"ha, no. mom's a bitch."

placing a hand on his wrist, i tried to comfort him, "you can't disrespect your mom like that, she'll be gone one day and then what will you have? she raised you miles-"

"mom kicked me out last weekend, apparently being a plug for 'illegal drugs' isn't a good career choice" he muttered sarcastically, "like i didn't already know that... and housing a college dropout wasn't good for her rep. it's fine though, i'll be gone soon anyways."

and then he stood, holding onto his cig and reaching his hand out to me, "do you wanna go for a walk, georgie?"

when he was high or drunk, he thought less of death.