The room didn’t feel like it should belong to a stereotypical guy. But when Mari was dressed up properly.. she felt like she was in her perfect litt...e world inside her bedroom.It was so strange how much different the world looked when she was in girl mode. The mindset, the emotions, the comfort… it did something to her mind that made her just feel much more at ease. She didn’t feel like she was simply going through life living and existing in the form of the least resistance when she felt her. ”“Oh, David,” she sighed. “I guess I deserved that. I know you’ve said that you’d like us to be friends. Did you really mean that?”“Yes, I’d like that, but I can’t see us ever being as close as we once were. The best analogy I can give is, I was a wolf, and bared my throat to you multiple times, and each time you ripped it out. If anyone else had done that, I’d be done with them, but my mother would never forgive me,” I admitted.“What does your mother have to do with this?”“She loves. She can not see. She is uncomfortable, this barely breathing cadaver. A tissue of skin. A scaffold of bone with her wild white hair, her jaundice, her rising scent of decomposition. She is aware of her helpless state, her parched lips and ancient form, but she is cut off from the world. It has been years since she could communicate, compose intelligible sounds… She can only lie here as she is, judge time from the shadows inside her unseeing eyes. Her back is stiff. That back of hers, she. He was a sad soul, racked with pain, and guilt, all the things that screamed emo. Justifiably emo. And he was old enough that he didn’t grow hair over one eye, put on mascara, and wear a black t-shirt with some vague anarchist expression on it. Emo on a guy like him was a darker thing, subtler, and a hell of a lot more serious.If he’d started fake smiling, and suddenly being flirtatious and suave to cover his depression, it’d have been so Julias, she would have had no choice but to rip his.