[Kit took another pull from the cigarette and finally turned his gaze back toward Vincent. If people hadn't talked, he wouldn't have heard the rumor about Kit. If people hadn't talked, Kit wouldn't have gotten sent to the juvenile detention center. Anything that could form an opinion and could voice it could only be trusted so far.
Himself included.
All that he'd brought up, didn't that constitute as talking too much? He may not have given away too many personal details, but some people were observant enough to read between the lines. As such, there were things better left unsaid. Especially in the company of someone...who made him feel nostalgic.
Yet he kept talking, and he hadn't left.
Why was he really still there? Was it for Vincent's sake, or his own? He knew the answer. Or thought he did...and the selfishness of it disgusted him.]
It wasn't an eye, in any case.
[It hadn't been personal, either...though Kit had long since given up trying to convince himself of that fact. He was a selfish creature by nature. His defense of someone else had also been in his own best interest. That was all there had been to it.]
It was a cafeteria tray and someone lost...six teeth, I think? It's difficult to recall. They were pretty yellow and we were served corn that evening for dinner. [He flicked his ashes, and this time stamped them out so Vincent wouldn't have to.] There was an uproar and so much food started flying that it took the corrections officers on duty almost ten minutes to figure out all that blood wasn't condiments.
[And when he'd been asked why he'd done it? All Kit had told anybody was that he'd warned the other boy to stop talking if didn't want to be eating through a straw.
He never mentioned the things that piece of garbage had said about his roommate. About what he'd promised to do the moment Kit's back was turned.]
no subject
[Kit took another pull from the cigarette and finally turned his gaze back toward Vincent. If people hadn't talked, he wouldn't have heard the rumor about Kit. If people hadn't talked, Kit wouldn't have gotten sent to the juvenile detention center. Anything that could form an opinion and could voice it could only be trusted so far.
Himself included.
All that he'd brought up, didn't that constitute as talking too much? He may not have given away too many personal details, but some people were observant enough to read between the lines. As such, there were things better left unsaid. Especially in the company of someone...who made him feel nostalgic.
Yet he kept talking, and he hadn't left.
Why was he really still there? Was it for Vincent's sake, or his own? He knew the answer. Or thought he did...and the selfishness of it disgusted him.]
It wasn't an eye, in any case.
[It hadn't been personal, either...though Kit had long since given up trying to convince himself of that fact. He was a selfish creature by nature. His defense of someone else had also been in his own best interest. That was all there had been to it.]
It was a cafeteria tray and someone lost...six teeth, I think? It's difficult to recall. They were pretty yellow and we were served corn that evening for dinner. [He flicked his ashes, and this time stamped them out so Vincent wouldn't have to.] There was an uproar and so much food started flying that it took the corrections officers on duty almost ten minutes to figure out all that blood wasn't condiments.
[And when he'd been asked why he'd done it? All Kit had told anybody was that he'd warned the other boy to stop talking if didn't want to be eating through a straw.
He never mentioned the things that piece of garbage had said about his roommate. About what he'd promised to do the moment Kit's back was turned.]