He stuffed his hands in his pockets. Shrugged. “Sometimes I like her a lot,” he said. “I get these pangs. And sometimes I’d rather eat glass than spend an hour with her.” He chewed on his lip. “Y’know, it’s like being a teenager and you’ve got his parent you hate, but at the same time, you’re scrambling for attention.”
no subject
on 2013-09-03 07:29 pm (UTC)