The Boy in the Gray Hoodie

19...continued

A/N

Here is the rest of chapter 19. It is extra long, partly because I wanted to give you guys a bonus, but also because the scene just wouldn't end. I hope you like it. Please leave me comments and vote if you enjoyed it and want more! Thank you guys so much for reading. I love you all!

P.S. Chopin's Moon is on the side. You'll know when to play it.

When I opened my eyes I was back in Roy's room. He was still holding out his arm, the light from the hallway giving his pale skin a soft, warm glow. In the crook of his elbow, I saw all of the tiny round scars that ran up and down the flesh of his arm—like the arm of a drug user. But Roy wasn't an addict. That much I knew. He was...

He was something else entirely.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I looked at him, his body completely turned away from me, offering his arm as though I would do what others had done. As though I would hurt him, like that man who belonged to the heartless voice in the white room.

But I would never hurt Roy.

Never.

Reaching out, I took Roy's hand in both of mine. I saw his jaw tighten and felt his fingers twitch in panic. He was expecting pain. I felt it instead.

"You don't have to be afraid of me Roy," I whispered, silent tears escaping their cradle beneath my watery brown eyes. "I'll never, ever hurt you. I promise."

He was looking at me now. The confusion in his eyes made me want to cringe. He hadn't expected this. I couldn't stand knowing what he had expected.

He looked down at my hands as though they were strange, foreign objects touching his skin. I stepped closer to him so that he could lower his arm. He took a step back.

My brow furrowed as I clung to his hand. He was trying to pull away. The look in his eyes told me that he didn't believe what I had said. He still thought I was going to hurt him. He didn't trust me.

I took another step forward, which was instantly followed by Roy taking another step back. His bare feet shuffled backward as he tried to pull his arm from my grip. I followed him, refusing to let him go.

It was like we were doing a strange, frightened dance toward the window. Roy kept turning his face away from me, only to look back at me in a panic. He didn't understand what was happening. I could have explained it to him, if I had tried.

But I laughed instead.

The sound made Roy freeze. His large blue eyes flicked toward me questioningly. I just laughed again, unable to explain why. After what I had just seen, I should have been crying. But I had just realized something.

We had known each other for less than a week.

Less than a week.

When he came here, I thought Roy was some schizophrenic weirdo that dad had brought just to spite me. In three days I figured out that was a lie—a really terrible lie.

Neither one of us had any reason to trust the other. Roy certainly didn't trust me. Our little dance just now proved that. But I trusted him. That was what made me laugh.

Roy was the most honest person I had ever met. He couldn't hide anything from me. And he didn't try. It probably didn't even occur to him to try and obscure his emotions with all the lies that the rest of us tell each other. He couldn't hide who he was, or what he felt.