Your pants look better on my floor ;)

Your pants look better on my floor ;) CH7!

"What you don't know won't hurt you." - i disagree, because knowing you don't love me, hurts more than anything you can imagine.

(: i love this chapter, cause i be into luke ;)

So this is how I ended up riding the bus, with some nerd examining my scratched hand. His thick glasses slithered further down his nose, while he inspected it for any infections.

"I think I'll live." I told him. "I've been through worse."

"I think you should show it to someone, you see that little darkening shadow at the edge? It might be infected."

I pulled my hand back, and exhaled heavily. It was a scar from a couple of months ago. Mom came home drunk that night; she was furious for not getting a big enough tip. So she discovered a jagged knife in the kitchen drawer and took away all her anger on me.

She was aiming at my face, trying to wound it into a flawed mirror of herself; broken, dangling on fear. I blocked myself with my right hand and the sharpness of the knife slithered onto my skin, as if it belonged there.

I didn't even cry, although the pain was immeasurable, and instead I wrapped it in a clean towel - my scarlet blood making permanent stains with its thick splashes.

"How'd it get there?" The guy next to me would just not shut up. But I couldn't help but notice how he held himself together; so confident, as if he wasn't afraid of the malicious and spiteful experiments the world will perform on his conscience.

"It was an accident." I lied, gazing back out the window, marveling upon the fact why this rather peculiar kid desired to sit next to me out of all the other vacant seat that were available.

But he was cute; if you're into the tall and mysterious types. The lenses of his glasses were slim, making me wonder if they were just blatant glass. His hair resembled ashes of a diminishing fire; with gel mounting it up in the front. His lips were sprinkled on with a hint of electric ruby and his eyes seemed to tell a legend, hidden beneath layers of a stimulating shade of cobalt, shimmering whenever the sun's rays stroked it.

"I highly doubted it." He chortled, shaking his head nonchalantly as if this was pathetic news to him, "The cut's too deep to be an accident and the frame around it seems to be dragged, breaking the skin."

"You're pathetic." I said although my voice had a sudden thrill to it, as if I couldn't believe someone had token the slightest bit interest in my scars.

"How bad did it hurt?" His warm hands slid through mine, stroking it passionately. Nobody's ever done anything as gratifying as that; it made my knees wobble, my heart ache for more, and my body be filled with emotions soaring through me.

And then it hit me so stridently, that I was half way embarrassed. Just because someone shows the least bit compassion towards me I start acting as if I have the world twisted around my finger, instead of reality; I'm the one slowly sliding off of it.

"Why do you care?" I was aggressive and if this boy seemed to notice my sudden revolution in mood; he certainly did not show it.

"Because I'm Luke, why do you care if I care?" He told me fiercely, his eyes growing with mischief; boring into my gray gaze upon him.

"Because I'm Tom." I answered proudly. There was something so soothing about Luke - his fearless comebacks, his concerned outlook, and rather moderate attitude - that I couldn't help but feel anticipation pumping through my veins.

But just like everything else in my blunder of a life, the bus halted to a stop; the brakes screeching in rebuff until the doors gusted open, letting the wretched minds run free.

As Luke framed himself up, he grinned at me, parading his shimmering smile at me, which twisted at the corners. I couldn't help but catch my breath when I noticed a speck of dimples flaunting when he beamed, because even for a nerd with glasses; he sure looked hell of an attraction.

"See you around," He called behind himself, not glancing back. I watched him saunter away, taking in his emerald polo and khakis; wondering how in the world he looks so attractive in something so tacky.

Slipping my way out of the bus, I inhaled the buzzing chatter of people. They scattered everywhere, attaching themselves to different scenes of the background. Usually, I would just march away with my pride nonchalantly. But the tongue tied couple in between the doors caught my eyes. And impulsively I felt something treacherous, something I've only read about, never actually experienced.

It was a ping of jealousy.