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Lucas continues to drag Liam until the door gets kicked shut behind them. It unfortunately looks like they've walked into one of the rooms at his local shelter, but there's a creaking spring bed, so it suits the purpose. If they even make it to the bed. He just drops Liam on the ground once they've reached the middle of the room and starts pacing in front of him, trying to work up some of his old anger. In a moment, maybe he'll remember Liam is there.

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He frowns. "Why?"

"Doesn't matter why. Please?"

"It matters."

Liam shrugs. "I'll tell you after. And I'll psy you for it."

"You will tell me first." Lucas' furrowed harder.

"You're not always gonna be around to focus my pain," he explains, uncharacteristically shy. "I need another outlet, or else I'll end up doing something stupid when my feelings get to be too much."

"Morphine is the opposite of pain," Lucas says quietly, looking down at his arm. "It will not supply that need."

"Physical pain dulls emotional pain. So does morphine. Please, Lucas?"

He thinks about it for a minute, looking Liam over, then frowns.

"No."

"Why not?"

"I will not be the one responsible for a future that is like mine." His fingers curl into a fist beside his leg.

"Then I'm just gonna find somewhere else to do it. Somewhere less safe, where people can take advantage of me." Liam pouts, feeling inexplicably hurt and thus behaving like a bratty child.

Ouch. Lucas stares at him and breathes for a second.

"If you wish to hurt... find me then. I will find something."

Liam shrugs, drawing his knees up to his chest and holding them tightly.

"You should let me. You should let me because you shouldn't care what happens to me."

Lucas hesitates, biting his tongue.

"... I care that it is not my responsibility," he lies quietly. "And that you will pay me another day."

"Whatever," Liam sighs, resting his forehead on his knees.

"You are upset with me." His stare is steady and even.

"No, I'm not." He lifts his head a little, apologetically.

"If you say." Lucas still looks he is waiting to continue to be berated.

"Sorry for being annoying."

"You do not annoy me, Liam."

"...Really?"

"I am very difficult to annoy." This is true. People who punch him in the face usually fall under the "annoyance" category. Other than that, he assumes he is the one making things awkward.

Liam smiles faintly, tracing patterns on the dirty floor. "Tell me if I do annoy you, okay? 'Cause I tend to."

"I will inform you," he nods.

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notsuitable.livejournal.com - 2011-04-25 14:05 (UTC) - Expand

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