I felt like he let me in by letting me see his scars and tattoos. He has seven tattoos. They're not all huge like the cross but they're bigger than I would have imagined. His back ribcage has a quote. I peel back the covers of the blankets he has wrapped us both in and look at it. 'If you prick us do we not bleed? If you tickle us do we not laugh? If you poison us do we not die? And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge? ' It's Shakespeare. I remember it from Lit. I brush my hands across the words and wonder if he will ever find peace. His hand moves like a snake and snatches mine. He pulls it up and turns his face and kisses the back of it. "Go to sleep." I shake my head, "I can't. Someone got me all worked up and now I'm kind of buzzing." A grin plays upon his lips. "You came. In case you forgot." I laugh, "I forgot. I think you should remind me how it felt, jog my memory." He shakes his head, "I think I like you how you are now." He opens his eyes and looks at me, "Do you want me?" I fight the pathetic face I know I'm wearing.
