Stepping onto the train, I breathe out a sigh when I see him sitting there, folded up on the cheap, plastic chair, a skeleton dressed up in men's clothing. He looks waxy, dry and brittle, but there are other reasons I wouldn't touch him right now. I look at him, and the mix of pity and disgust and worry is almost too much. Jesus, why the fuck is he doin' this to himself?
Standing over him, my hand wrapped around a pole as the train lurches forward, I say, "You look like shit," and that's just about the understatement of the year.
"It's been a bad week," Logan replied simply, shrugging his shoulders slightly.
He didn't need to look up to know who he was talking to, but he did anyway, meeting Neil's eyes with his own. He only held the other boy's gaze for a moment though, before looking down at his hands instead, wringing them and then folding them in his lap. It's something that would look normal on most people, but on Logan it doesn't quite work. On him it's nothing more than a half-assed attempt at looking normal, balanced and at ease.
Things he'd never really been, even at his best.
"Where you heading?" he asked, clearing his throat as he sat up a little straighter, doing his best to look less like a mess and more like a man.
"Into Siam. Nowhere in particular," I shrug, sliding into the seat beside him, watching every little move and knowing it's all an act. You don't know someone as long as I've known him and not pick up on those kinds of things. Every time I look at him it's like the light in his eyes has gone a little dimmer. Pretty soon there won't be anything left.
"Not yet," Logan admitted, leaning back in his seat. "I kind of slept in, and then... I dunno. I didn't want to be inside or whatever, so I just left. I guess I forgot about the whole food thing."
It was the sort of thing he'd always done, but it was worse lately. It was almost as if he couldn't be bothered to do it anymore. Like it was too much work.
Rolling his shoulders, he looked over at Neil curiously. "How've you been?" he asked, and though he looked tired it was clear his interest was genuine. Had it not been, he probably wouldn't have bothered asking at all.
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Standing over him, my hand wrapped around a pole as the train lurches forward, I say, "You look like shit," and that's just about the understatement of the year.
Reply
He didn't need to look up to know who he was talking to, but he did anyway, meeting Neil's eyes with his own. He only held the other boy's gaze for a moment though, before looking down at his hands instead, wringing them and then folding them in his lap. It's something that would look normal on most people, but on Logan it doesn't quite work. On him it's nothing more than a half-assed attempt at looking normal, balanced and at ease.
Things he'd never really been, even at his best.
"Where you heading?" he asked, clearing his throat as he sat up a little straighter, doing his best to look less like a mess and more like a man.
Reply
"You eaten?"
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It was the sort of thing he'd always done, but it was worse lately. It was almost as if he couldn't be bothered to do it anymore. Like it was too much work.
Rolling his shoulders, he looked over at Neil curiously. "How've you been?" he asked, and though he looked tired it was clear his interest was genuine. Had it not been, he probably wouldn't have bothered asking at all.
Reply
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