As those last words leave Bobby’s lips — the veins
in Lawrence’s neck burst from his skin; the hands
that rest beside him form tightly into firsts; nails
piercing the thin first layer of skin on his palm.
Bobby has crossed the L I N E —- spoken words
he has no business speaking for since after all,
he doesn’t know Lauryn very well. Lawrence
could ask him s i m p l e questions about Lauryn
and he would get every single question wrong.
Because if he knew Lauryn. He would know
she wants to be alone.Lawrence does not say one word.
He simply … acts upon.
AND POP GOES THE WEASEL.
Tile meeting with skin —- a numbing pain radiating from the
side of his face. Yeah, he’d have a bruise in the morning,
and yeah, it would hurt
But He Didn’t Care.
It was a physical pain; an ache — something that he could control.
A bruise, that later, he would be able to see—— something tangible.
Bobby had been looking for A N Y T H I N G that would make him forget.
Anything to forget about all this emotional bullshit that he’d been feeling.
and a fist to the face from a young Wayne sure did the trick.
He knew better. Knew he shouldn’t
—————————————
But as his fingers curled into ice ; As he picked himself UP off the ground
No one, not even God himself, could have stopped Bobby.
He was in pain
—- and didn’t. give. a. fuck.
(Source: frozenbarrier-blog)
