Painting Your Soul {Tony Perry}

"I've always been a believer in fate. That all things happen for a reason, no matter how miniscule or immense the reason being is," I shrugged my shoulders slightly, flicking the cigarette that I had smoked down to a nub onto the gravel beneath our feet.

"Do you think that's why we're here now?" he asked, his eyes somber. His irises were always so yielding, amenable to anything you could ever ask.

"Yeah," I answered simply, running my tongue along my crimson lower lip.

"So, what's the reasoning? Miniscule or immense?" his tone wavered, almost like he was afraid to hear the retaliation that I had coming. Even with a question so vague, I knew what he was talking about. It had become the elephant in the room lately, and it was inevitable to come up sooner or later. I had just hoped for later.

"I've never been so unsure of an answer in my life,"