Dawson is- most people who don't know him would say- as straight as they come. And senior year away from home promises to be a big year for him: no parents in sight, a whole new set of friends, he just seems to have it all. Not to mention that all t...
your girl is in need of some loving. i just said goodbye for a whole year to my boyfriend of 5 years and a half it's sad girl hours for real
smol warning:use of soft drugs
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DAWSON DIDN'T REPLY to that.
He and Adam stared into each other's eyes for a few seconds before embarrassment came creeping in and forced them to look away.
Hamilton's words, however morbid and gruesome, were truthful. Death was lonely. For everyone. What struck Dawson the most, however, was the tone Adam used to rebuke him. Cold and clinical. He was curt and glassy-eyed. As if to say: "I know better."
But, instead, he says, "I'm done here," then, without further ado, immediately heads out of the library.
"Well, I can't say it was fun," Dawson jests with a little shrug.
Adam's right eyebrow shoots up skeptically.
He's not much of a talker. And it's almost as if he picks out his words with the parsimony of someone who's taking pictures with a disposable camera and has just one film left to shoot on.
He only speaks when it's necessary. Everything else, he speaks with his eyes, with his lips, with his movements. It's mesmerizing and, at the same time, terribly frustrating to Dawson.
He hates Adam's silence. He wants words. He needs them. And it's such a desperate need, it's taking everything in him not to beg him to talk.
Please, say something. Anything. I can't stand the silence.
It'd be easier if he could read his every move and assign a word to each one, like a sign language, a secret one that only they can understand.
Dawson hates not being able to know what's on Adam's mind when he looks at him. If he could walk inside his mind and take a quick peek, perhaps he'd be able to listen to his thoughts and fathom the mystery named Adam Hamilton. Perhaps, then he'd finally be able to understand.
Adam glances at him one last time and it's a look that Dawson has never seen him wear.
By the end of their shared time in detention, Hamilton didn't seem eager to leave, like Dawson had predicted. As a matter of fact, he was acting in an unusual way, standing midway between Dawson and the door, with his unreadable eyes boring into him as if he expected him to know, as if he expected him to understand and Dawson just wanted to scream at his face, I'm sorry, I can't understand you!
