S
SeparateLivesSeparateLovers
Guest
Original poster
I pressed my lips together and stepped in front of him again, placing a hand on his chest to stop him and going on my toes to get in his face. "There you go again," I said softly. I may not have been able to see him, but I could read body language all the same. "Why are you like this, so defensive and violent? What made you this way?" My face was inches from his, my eyes narrowed. Yes, he was extremely handsome, but he was acting like a dick.
After another second, I backed away and opened my dorm room, which happened to be only a few feet away, and shut the door.
I sank down onto my bed, and felt tears spring unexpectedly into my eyes. I dabbed them away impatiently and glanced at my guitar case, then gave up and took it out. I strummed a few chords, then started picking a slow, mournful tune. My guitar was another form of escape for me, the small pains in my fingers when I pressed too hard-I had huge calluses on my fingers from that-, the way the guitar's body vibrated against me. A guitar couldn't glare at me, couldn't judge me, couldn't trick me. It didn't have eyes in which to see its past.
It was only a guitar.
After another second, I backed away and opened my dorm room, which happened to be only a few feet away, and shut the door.
I sank down onto my bed, and felt tears spring unexpectedly into my eyes. I dabbed them away impatiently and glanced at my guitar case, then gave up and took it out. I strummed a few chords, then started picking a slow, mournful tune. My guitar was another form of escape for me, the small pains in my fingers when I pressed too hard-I had huge calluses on my fingers from that-, the way the guitar's body vibrated against me. A guitar couldn't glare at me, couldn't judge me, couldn't trick me. It didn't have eyes in which to see its past.
It was only a guitar.