tangles of my heart <3

[TAYLOR JAMESON]

waking up on the bathroom floor

[/b]
pull myself back together just to fall once more[/font][/center]

Nine, ten, eleven... Trailing down the hall with a brown paper bag in his hand, Taylor's light brown eyes jumped from one room number to the next. Glancing down at his other palm he looked at the smeared number written on it, a messily drawn 'fifteen' becoming less visible. Don't ask how the boy found Damian's information this quickly. Anyone should assume the seventeen year old had ways, being a big stalker on campus for a long time. All the identification he needed was his newest obsessions first and last name, which he had rather slyly found out and memorized. With technology at it's peak right now you really didn't need anything else. If Taylor wanted to be totally creepy he could probably find the kid's social security number and birth address. Of course, he wouldn't go that far. Why would he want that kind of junk when all the other's personality traits were locked within his room? A room was like a haven, the one shelter everyone could show their true colors. More determined than ever, Taylor wanted to know who Damian Ritter was.

After their encounter in the library the boy knew he had hit something. There was a characteristic in Damian that had stopped him from going off at him after completely destroying the personal space between the pair. There had to be, right? The kid had started off saying 'fuck off' to him and ended their one-sided conversation with an 'excuse me'. Taylor might be dissecting it too much, but there was a change. The boy wasn't exactly sure what it was, but that's what he wanted to find out. Plus, why was the kid so damn quiet? He didn't look half bad. Since he began his 'research' on Damian there had been foul rumors, but he didn't believe any of them. The mentally challenged boy might seem a bit random and stupid at times, yet he was very deviant and clever underneath it all. He knew the differences between fact and fiction.

Getting to room number fifteen he put the paper bag's top into his mouth, holding it like a dog, and reached into his back pocket. If he had been timing Damian right the kid should be out. Okay. Taylor will admit that part of watching the boy's schedule was kind of creepy... it was necessary though! What was he going to do? Knock on the door and ask Damian if he could hang out with him? Hell of a chance. The other boy would probably slam the door in his face with his cold attitude. This, in Taylor's mind, was the only way to approach a challenging and bitter person. Not the most legal, but hey, Damian would never know...

Glancing down the hall he took a hair pin out his pocket and knelt down by the lock. Opening the pin he began pushing it around the lock while placing his ear close to the door until he heard a magnificent click. Standing up he turned the knob, holding his breath through the process, and released it when the door swung open. Taking the bag out of his mouth he decided he's just make himself at home. Closing the door silently he wandered the room, ironically taking of his shoes at the door way. He had to be respectful! Sitting on the bed with a bounce he opened the paper bag and took out a cookie. Stalking was a tough job that you wouldn't understand until you tried it. A man got hungry on an empty stomach. Placing the chocolate chip cookie in his mouth he held it there while beginning his survey of the room.

Opening one drawer after another, he disappointingly found drawers full of clothes. A normal person would have a big duh moment here. What else would you put in drawers? Taylor had a lot of time to imagine what Damian's room looked like while he was bored or waiting for this period when he could finally see if his beliefs were true. In many aspects, he was greatly unsatisfied. He expected it to be darker, colder, and there to be bats flying around and cobwebs on the walls. Damian appeared to be one of those gloomy guys that didn't like to reveal a lot. Maybe he should have suspected the room to be as picture less and dull as it was. Not even in a sanctuary that was suppose to be personal would the kid dare to show anything he saw as vulnerabilities. Others would just give up on Damian accepting he reflected the boring nature of his bare room. To Taylor though.... for a second it made him pout. It just seemed so sad that someone was that afraid, or truly was that closed off to not paint his walls with his feelings.

The sadness only lasted a few seconds when the boy noticed something on a desk. Eyes widened, instantly realizing what it was. Leather. Rectangular. Thick. The journal Damian had been carrying. Leaving the drawers he had already looked through open, he almost fell on his face with the cookie in his mouth as he ran to the desk. His hands wavered over the journal for a few seconds, feeling like it would burn him if he touched it. The kid had held it so closely... it was like he was unworthy to lay a single finger on it. The hyperactive mind quickly voiced it's opinion, the statement leaving Taylor's lips as he removed the cookie with a spare hand, “Oh well!” Picking the journal up with his other hand he nearly jumped on the bed, hearing the springs squeak from the impact. Laying his head on the pillows and putting the half eaten cookie on his chest he opened the journal to the first page. He chuckled with amusement at the cover title and then the first page. Silly Damian!

Once he flipped to the next page he ravenously began reading, his curiosity nearly ripping off the words from the paper. The boy was determined to see how Damian ticked once and for all! All of the sudden after a few sentences his speed began to slow down on the latest entry, his body feeling cold again. Poor Damian... he really needed more than that one hug. His whole idea on living was so... morbid and depressing. Kill or be killed? That's not how it was at all! Biting his lip his brown eyes wavered on the page, tracing the words over and over again. He lacked trust, he was struggling with control, and... The whole mentioning of murderers was awful. No one should think they were some insane being or have the whole world suspecting it. It was obvious that Damian was very bitter. He appeared to hate most of the institution- no, that was an understatement. He appeared to dislike most of the world. “Damian that's not true at all,” he nearly whimpered, as if the boy was right next to him. There were good people in the world. Taylor knew that with every fiber in his being. Yes, there were greedy people, those who liked to knock others down and step on them at their lowest point. Taylor would never admit everyone was like that though. He had to think about his friends like Peter, for example. The kid wasn't bad at all. He was sweet, he was caring, and he truly wouldn't hurt a soul in the world. If the seventeen year old could think of one person right off the bat there was bound to be more. You just had to look beyond the dirt and filth that hid them.

Part of Taylor wanted to get a pen and scribble his feeling in, but he decided it wouldn't be wise. Instead he shoved the rest of the cookie in his mouth and got up again, grabbing a piece of paper and pen before returning to the bed. Laying on his belly he kicked his legs up and tilted his head while looking at the blank piece of paper. Maybe he could write something nice and reassuring? Or maybe a picture! The boy was always good a drawing cute happy doodles when he wanted to cheer someone up. The thought never crossed his mind that leaving a note would be evidence for Damian to suspect someone had come into his room. At times, well, Taylor could be a bit of a happy-go-lucky ditz. Nonetheless he chewed on the pen's cap while debating how to express his response to the journal properly. The other boy wasn't due for awhile, he had tons of time to kill!

[[Tag!: Damian... duh. =P
Comments: Longest post... ever. xx]]

[DAMIAN RITTER]

Everyone is so full of shit
Born and raised by hypocrites
Hearts recycled but never saved
From the cradle to the grave

Early in the day Damian had to attend a meeting with one of the institution councilors. This woman was determined to have Damian speak to her. He would never grant her the satisfaction of hearing his voice. It wasn't because Damian didn't like speaking that he didn't speak to her. Mostly it was because Damian didn't think she deserved to be spoken to by anyone. The world would be better off if it were completely silent. This woman didn't seem to agree. Damian sat in the chair, staring at the woman with the utmost intensity he could muster, hoping to possibly scare something out of her. He wasn't so lucky. The woman continued to talk about Damian's behavior at the institution and how it was effecting the institution as a whole.

Damian personally didn't want to hear it. He was well aware that his behavior affected everyone. People were curious about him, curious enough to get too close and get their feelings hurt. But Damian lacked the function to care about those people that he had emotionally hurt. They were stupid enough to corss him and cause the unnatural imbalance of emotions. It was their fault. Placing the blame was part of human nature that Damian clung to.

When the woman realized that she was getting nowhere fast with Damian she released him to go back to his room. Damian knew that she would eventually give up on him just like everyone else. No one wanted to work hard enough to change his mind to really dig deep. The psychiatrist that had him write the journals...even that man never even read the journals Damian wrote. He walked out of the office and toward the boy's dorm. It wasn't too far of a walk, but Damian liked to take his time with things.

He took in some of the things he saw along the way. People. They were disgusting to Damian. Some would say that was a hypocritical thought... hating humanity. But Damian knew well enough to know that it would only be hypocritical if he were to hate everyone but himself. Damian happened to include himself in the ranks of the vile human race. He didn't believe himself any better or worse than how he thought of the rest of humanity.

One after another the stages of life played before Damian as he slowly approaced his room. There was a young couple leaned up against the wall, happily staring into eachother's eyes. It made Damian sick to his stomach to see such happiness. Next there was a girl, curled into a ball in tears. Damian could only guess as to what sort of problems she was having. Honestly, Damian didn't really care about why she was crying. Finally reaching his room Damian reached out, intending to grab the doorknob while searching for his key.

Must to Damian's surprise the door slid open without him even having to try very hard. Damian raised an eyebrow and stepped into the opening hallway. He walked further in, not liking the site he saw. There were dresser drawers pulled out and left hanging open, a trail of cookie crumbs on the floor, and a certain journal missing from his desk. A random burst of rage filled Damian. Damian didn't care about things being taken from him, but taking his journal? Bad idea.

Damian's dark eyes finally landed on the boy on his bed. There was a boy on his bed? He tried to mentally convince the rage that bubbled in his gut to subside. It would be a difficult task. Damian watched the boy, who he recognised to be the boy from the library, look through his journal. It shouldn't matter to Damian that someone was reading his journal. His journal wasn't necessarily a private thing since he already had to send it off every time he finished one.

Damian calmly walked toward Taylor, still fighting off the rage that wanted to burst out of him. As calm as his demeanor was, Damian's eyes burned. He said nothing as he reached out and slipped the book out of Taylor's hands. Turning his back to Taylor Damian returned the book to it's rightful place on the desk and glanced back toward Taylor. He was about to say the most he had ever said to Taylor. "There had better not be crumbs in my bed." He said, his German accent flowing.

[TAYLOR JAMESON]

waking up on the bathroom floor

[/b]
pull myself back together just to fall once more[/font][/center]

When the door slid open the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, eyes widening to a degree. CRAP! Why hadn't he locked the door after he came in? Shit! He left his shoes right by the doorway... The pace of his heart began to speed up and the alarms in his head went off like sirens. Peering around the room he wondered if he could clean it all up before the person took three more steps and discovered him. Maybe he could do it... When Taylor had to be he could be as fast as a bullet, all he needed was a reason. Pulling himself up to a sitting position on the bed, he prepared to get up and to push the drawers in when he heard a voice.

At first he had no fucking idea who it was. His worst fear was the person who uncovered his break in was another student, or worse, a teacher. Either possibility was incredibly frightening, especially when he had put so much effort into being 'sneaky'. What if they told the owner of the institution? Then they'd tell his therapist, who'd then get very mad at him. He hated when she yelled. The guilt truly ate him up on the inside, even when he would never exactly understand what he did. The truth was he didn't comprehend that his stalking was creepy. It was as normal as bird watching or observing fish under water to him. The subject of his studies were other people, but so what? It wasn't like he was hurting anyone. Taylor might be disturbing their belongings and intruding on their personal space, yet no one ever got injured.

When the boy finally got the guts to turn his head he couldn't help but feel stunned. “Damian, what are you doing here?” he said bluntly, as if this wasn't the other boy's room. “I mean, you're not suppose to be back for awhile. Weren't you suppose to be with a therapist or something for at least another half hour?” Brown eyes looked from the boy to around the room for a clock. He didn't believe he had miscalculated. Those type of errors were fatal and Taylor tried to take special care with them. When reality finally slapped him that he wasn't suppose to be in the room and the room was pretty much ransacked a embarrassed grin spread on his face. Well this was awkward... It wasn't uncommon he got caught, but every time it was a bit humiliating. He hated being trapped in his own game.

Swinging his legs on the side of the bed another punch of reality hit him for being so slow today. Damian had spoken to him. Not in a fragment or a one word statement, but a full sentence! The odd grin turned into a beam, so delighted he was being spoken to. Taylor doubted he'd be this lucky again and decided to take as much pride as he could from this moment. The energy from the cookie began to flow through him, positively ecstatic now. His first response was a sweet laugh, the boy being amused that that was the only thing Damian was focused on. Usually the person he was stalking would be screaming right now or slapping him. The other boy was giving him a pretty cold stare, yet Taylor ignored it like always. After his laugh he shook his head, “Nope, no crumbs! At least none I can tell of.” Glancing back at the bed he confirmed his thoughts. There were plenty on the ground from running around with the cookie in his mouth, but by the time he settled on the bed it was pretty much devoured.

Grabbing the brown paper bag he had left on the bed he picked it up and shook it at Damian. “Do you want one? I got all kinds. Sugar, chocolate chip, mint chip, m&m, peanut butter, assorted nuts. I went downtown and bought a bunch before coming here. I always like to have a stash in my room or around in case I get hungry. My therapist says it unhealthy to only eat sugar, but I have no idea why. It's not like I get hyper or anything.” he rambled with a shrug at the end. His therapist had to just accept he was always hyper. No amount of caffeine or sugar could explain why he always seemed so wired and happy. “Anyway, I will clean up the mess later, if you want. I just didn't think you'd be back so soon.” His words were truthful as always, a reassuring smile on his features. He had been planning on cleaning the place up before leaving even before Damian arrived. It would be rude to leave his place a mess.

“Oh, do you even remember me?” A pout came to his features at the thought Damian might have forgot. “Well just in case, it's Taylor Jameson at your service again!” There was a bit of bounce his words appearing to be proud of his name. “You could call me Tye if it's easier for you. I'm really cool with either option.” Part of him considered Damian wouldn't speak of his name ever again, but oh well. At least he had thrown out the idea of using his nickname. Opening the paper bag he pulled out another cookie, nibbling at his slowly. For a second his eyes wandered to the journal, debating whether to bring it up or not, but over all decided it wasn't the best idea. Maybe he'd mention it when Damian wasn't so... well looking like he was going to blow up. That image in Taylor's head of Damian exploding was pretty gross. Who would want to clean that up?

[/size]

[DAMIAN RITTER]

Everyone is so full of shit
Born and raised by hypocrites
Hearts recycled but never saved
From the cradle to the grave

Damian didn't even want to know why he was being called into question for being in his own fucking room. He raised an eyebrow when the boy mentioned his appointment with the therapist. How had he known about that? Suddenly Damian felt a chill of terror run through his spine. Taylor didn't just happen to be in his room for no reason and Damian knew that he wasn't in the wrong room. Damian had a sick feeling that this pest was stalking him. The guy was right, though. Damian was at least a half hour early from his appointment. He didn't enjoy anyone else having that knowledge, though.

The fact that someone knew his schedule was not in the least bit charming. He clenched his hand into a fist, trying to control the rage that endeavored to flow out of him. The mood swings were not in the least bit fun for Damian. He would end up doing something irrational. But on and on the boy went...rambling about cookies of all fucking things. Damian felt he couldn't think straight.

Later? He would clean it LATER? Damian wanted to beg to differ, but he held his silence. Were Damian to open his mouth he would regret it instantly. He looked away from the the annoying boy, back to his journal. Damian would have to write again. This time he sense an entry designed for specific persons to read. He couldn't remember what exactly he had written in his journal. That wasn't important. The important part was that his privacy had been invaded and it would be an understatement to say that Damian wasn't pissed.

When Taylor began to ramble on asking if Damian had forgotten him, well, Damian could feel his patience slipping. His control over the episodes was faltering. "Shut up and sit down." Damian commented through clenched teeth. He had to have some silence to think and control himself. Control... something which had been fleeting to begin with... seemed to be slipping even further away from him

Damian leaned againt the wall, closing his eyes. Calm... he needed to calm down. Every comment the boy had made since the previous day flew through his mind, echoing. It almost gave him a headache thinking about it. After a few needed deep breathes Damian reopened his eyes. They landed on Taylor, most of the anger in them gone. It had taken Damian a long time to learn how to control the anger like that. Well, Damian still didn't quite have control. It was more that he was able to put it off until he was alone. "Anything you read in that journal," Damian started in his cool German accent, "Is strictly private. Breathing even one word of it will be fatal for you." His journal was his safe haven. If its words were being tossed about the campus, then so where his deepest thoughts. Damian didn't appreciate that.

Each time Damian thought about saying something completely rude to Taylor he thought about the hug in the library and it would change his mind. There had been something about that one action that Damian just didn't know how to react to. It was oddly calming, Damian had decided shortly after leaving the library that day. He dropped his hands to his side, letting them hang limply. There weren't many people willing to give Damian the time of day. Most of the ones that did spoke down to him. It was quite annoying at times, but things like that didn't matter to Damian.

He didn't give a shit what those morons that wanted to judge him thought. But now that there was someone paying good attention to him... Damian didn't know how to handle it for sure. He couldn't come up with any rational reaction.

[TAYLOR JAMESON]

waking up on the bathroom floor

[/b]
pull myself back together just to fall once more[/font][/center]

Putting the bag by his side again he listened as Damian told him to shut up. The comment held aggression, possibly sounding rude to some ears, but the happy expression didn't wither on Taylor's face. If Damian could swear at him, a simple 'shut up' wouldn't hurt his feelings. The whole act of hurting the insane boy was a very difficult task. Everything he heard that was negative was twisted into something positive, or even easier, he just ignored it. Tilting his head he looked like a confused puppy as he observed the other boy's body language. Part of him wanted to ask if he had done something wrong – as if it weren't obvious – or if he wanted another hug. The pout came along with the expression not liking how mad the other boy was. It was partially the kid's own fault for being early. If Damian had just went along with the plan there wouldn't have this issues. Of course, Taylor wouldn't blame this predicament all on Damian. The boy might be unstable, but he was willing to take the blame if fingers were to be pointed.

Like in the library being completely silent was proving to be a challenge. Every once in a while Taylor opened his mouth to say something then quickly shut it. Worse he couldn't stand just sitting down. The kid needed movement almost like he feared he'd be glued in one place if he stood there too long. In order to gradually release the energy his foot tapped on the floor while he leaned back and looked over the damage again. Taylor hated cleaning and part of him smacked himself for making such a mess. Damian would especially be a distraction while cleaning. How did the dorm's owner expect him to clean when he was around? Every few minutes he'd want to play a game with Damian or be asking Damian questions. At least if he was alone in the room he could focus on cleaning. When there was a person... well they were his focus than.

The transformation of the other boy's was amazing and made Taylor smile once again. He wasn't mad? Oh that was fantastic! By this time he'd already be sitting outside in the hall plotting the next way on getting closer to his obsession. The issue from beforehand of Damian coming early was really resolving itself! Taylor couldn't be any happier how smoothly it was going. As that lovely german accent broke the silence the brown-eyed boy straightened up in attention, blinking in surprise at Damian's statement. Or was it a threat? The fatal part actually made him laugh with amusement. He didn't question Damian's power, but he thought it was funny how the other boy thought it was necessary. “Of course Damian!” he said as if it was obvious he wouldn't. “Who would I tell? I don't see any reason I'd want to share. It's like a secret between me and you!”

The smile grew at the thought that even if Damian didn't agree to it they both had a connection now. In his own mind it was a really creepy way to look at it. There were love relationships, friendships, and even bonds of the hatred between two people. Taylor just invented a bond, not necessarily mutual beforehand, of knowledge of one parties thoughts. In some aspect, it was like Taylor was a confidant, except... well he doubted the other boy would have told him any of that stuff. It all appeared to be pretty personal. “If you want I can pinkie promise!” he joked, raising his pinkie and sticking out his tongue. Laughing at his own statement, the boy fell back on the bed. “Oh am I allowed to move now? Or is this some sort of time-out punishment for picking your lock?” He was mainly teasing with the last statement, but it was a true question. He didn't want to make the other boy anymore upset after making so much progress.

In the past few minutes they had made tons of progress. If Taylor had been paying more attention he would have been shocked that Damian was talking so much. The boy's mind wasn't that focused though. It was like a bouncy ball, forever jumping, and never settling on one area. “So...” he said, letting his eyes move from Damian to up at the ceiling, “Therapy must not have gone well...? That sucks. Therapy can be so boring. Usually I just sit there doodling or trying to catch skittles in my mouth that my therapist leaves on her desk. I think I annoy her, not that I have any clue why,” His forehead wrinkled momentarily while trying to see if he could figure out why. Nope, nothing. “You wanna play a game?” he asked, the sweet tone always in his voice. “Or we could talk, that could be fun! Or, or... I guess I could clean your room now but that be booorrriing. I'll get to it, but I'd probably just make it messy again before I leave.” True. There were bound to be more cookie crumbs by the end of the day.

[DAMIAN RITTER]

Everyone is so full of shit
Born and raised by hypocrites
Hearts recycled but never saved
From the cradle to the grave

It took Damian a moment to fully consider what Taylor was saying about the contents of the journal being like a secret between the two of them. Damian wasn't comfortable with that. He didn't want other people to see inside of him. The more people knew about him the more Damian was sure that he was one step closer to losing a battle with the world. His eyes wavered over Taylor, trying to think of what to say or if he needed to say anything. Damian hated the boy, he was sure of that. It had to be hate. Nothing had ever felt as strong to him. "A secret..." He mused. Damian hadn't thought about it before, but he liked how personal the word secret was. As much as he felt he was opposed to having a secret between himself and the annoying boy in his room... part of him thought it might not be so bad if one person knew his thoughts that was not a therapist. Damian was almost curious as to what Taylor thought about his point of view on the world. Though Damian would never talk about it willingly. Taylor would have to initiate conversation.

Damian decided not to answer Taylor's question about whether or not he could move. He didn't care if the boy moved as long as there was none of that hugging shit. Damian still wasn't so sure about what to think of that. If Damian had to count all the times he had ever been hugged on one hand, well, there would only be one. Hopefully it would be the last time that he was hugged. Suddenly Damian wished the boy hadn't read his journal. At first it hadn't mattered as much, but he couldn't help but think that it was dangerous to give Taylor too much ammo to use against him. It was apparent the boy already knew his schedule. Damain looked away, trying to figure things out. He didn't want to be too accepting and he, for once, didn't want to make someone cry. It was like he wasn't in a real mood...just sort of standing there...existing. There was no smile, but there was no frown either. He stood there, an empty hull of a human being. If he could even be considered that.

He didn't know if he should be bothered or flattered that Taylor knew he had been at therapy. Damian decided to go with neither. Though his mind did trail to the therapy session. Those things usually turned out to at least two hours of him staying silent and being lectured about what was read in his journal. The journals...Damian decied that he would burn every last fucking on of them one day. There was no point in them since they didn't help any. Damian always had to find different ways to try and calm down his emotional episodes. Already Damian felt another coming, though he didn't feel this to be anger. This was a stranger emotion than he was used to feeling. It wasn't something he could pinpoint right away. For some reason Damain didn't want to kick the boy out...Taylor began to seem more... interesting. A part of Damian refused to get close to the boy for fear that he would be betrayed in the end.

"How long do you plan on staying?" Damian asked quietly. He found himself feeling indifferent. This was unusual and Damian hated that. Of all the moments he had to feel that small surge of happiness. Most would think that it would be impossible for Damian to even fake being happy. But little did they know that it was possible for Damian to be able to actually be happy. This had some of his former therapists confused. Usually it took A LOT to get Damian's happy surge to happen. Anger was usually the more prevalent one. But something about Taylor, and Damian was sure that it was the boy, that just made him feel that little burst of happiness. It was the strangest thing, but Damian would rather deny it. Damian didn't want to be happy. Happy was like a huge trap for people. It was something that Damian had never known to last and he didn't want to believe it did.

Damian let his eyes, which had lost a lot of their threat because of the small burst of emotion, fall on Taylor. There was always a brightness about his eyes when the happy mood was there, but if asked if he were happy Damian would deny it. That was the way people were let down. He would lie his ass off to avoid it. He raised an eyebrow and asked something that he knew would just get him deeper into the annoying stalker's little grasp. The sad part... was that Damian didn't mind. Someone was giving him a chance to be human, which was also a bad thing because it also made Damian hate himself just a little more. "What kind of game?"

[TAYLOR JAMESON]

waking up on the bathroom floor

[/b]
pull myself back together just to fall once more[/font][/center]

When Damian didn't answer his question about zero-movement, Taylor accepted that in this situation being quiet was a 'silent yes'. Silences from the other boy could be an arrangement of things, but gradually Tye was learning to read him better. Worse comes to worse, he would simply be yelled at again. It wasn't like that hadn't ever happened before. Moving back on the bed, he plopped his feet across it and impulsively began tapping them together. Staring down on the white socks, he allowed Damian a few seconds of air. Was the other boy the type that liked control? Or was he indifferent to that, like he was to everything else? Brown eyes shifted from his socks up to the boy, staring at him more curiously. Maybe it wasn't that easy to figure Damian out... Taylor had to stop thinking he could read him like a book, even if his journal was a various collection of the other boy's deep thoughts.

The question that soon rang in the air made Taylor's brow arch up, initially surprised. When was he leaving? Shouldn't it be the other way around? As far as Tye had known, Damian was the one that always ran a way from him or told him to leave. This new control he was being handed over was a honor, as over exaggerated as that sounded. His facial features relaxed and his lips turned into a line as if he was in deep in thought. Staring at the tiles on the ceiling for a few seconds he released a 'hmmm' noise while drumming his fingers on his thighs. “Would you be upset if I said never?” he teased with a smile, before laughing at himself again and falling backwards onto the bed. Bouncing slightly he finally added, “I have a minimum of an hour, but after that you can throw me out whenever you want.” Turning his head to the side to get a better look at Damian he added with a pout, “Not that you'd have to throw me out. A simple 'please leave, I'll see you tomorrow Tye' would be perfectly fine!”

The smile returned as his gaze went back to ceiling, enjoying the comfort of the bed. Taylor never remembered his being this soft. Closing his eyes he looked like he was on his way to falling asleep when another question drifted into his head Eyes brightening he turned again towards the boy, taken a back for a second by the change in Damian's eyes. Wow. He had never noticed them soft before. When did this happen? This staring session was a lot quicker, not wanting to discourage this sudden transformation. “Oh, um,” he began, biting his lip while thinking of a game. Sitting up he said, “Well there are lots of games. Card games, board games... but we're not in my room so we don't have any of those...” His excitement trailed off until he reminded himself of other fun things to do. “I know a game we could play! How about twenty questions? No boards, no cards, and look! No mess!” He sounded like a commercial advertisement. “We can play it the way I ask you a question and then you ask me one! Or if you want we could do the other one where I think of an animal and you ask questions to figure out what it is. Whatever you want to do!” He hoped the second one sounded completely unappealing to Damian. He didn't feel like spending an hour saying 'yes' and 'no' to questions.

Cracking a cookie in half he began chewing on it while he waited for an answer. When it came to food Taylor was an endless pit. He wouldn't be surprised if he finished the whole bag of the cookies before the time he left. Well, as long as Damian would allow him to stay long enough. He liked this change in Damian, but he wasn't sure how long it would last...

[DAMIAN RITTER]

Everyone is so full of shit
Born and raised by hypocrites
Hearts recycled but never saved
From the cradle to the grave

Never. Heh, that was a long time to be happily annoyed. Boy was that an oxymoron, but that was how Damian felt. A rather simple part of him knew that he was throughly annoyed with hte boy that wouldn't allow him the privacy he wanted and needed in order to keep his rage to a minimum, but at the same time Damian was oddly okay with the boy's presence. He knew he should be pushing the boy out of his room, throwing line by line of hurtful words at him. But somehow Damian had a feeling that Taylor would take that as an invitation to come back for more. Damian decided that he hated the good feeling Taylor brought him. He wanted to kill this feeling and all of the...warmth. It was unusual. Damian had spent his whole life being treated...nicely. His parents were more than generous and caring, but this... this was what was going to break him? No- Damien coldn't have that.

"Yes," Damian answered firmly, "I would probably get upset with you if you said never." His accent was sort of drawn out, coming out more like 'i vould probably get upset vith you'. The accent was the only part of Germany that Damian actually cared about. He could remember bits and pieced of it, but really Damian tried not to think of the times that he lived in Germany. It was a part of the past and looking behind could be as dangerous as constantly staring striaght forward. Damian was convinced that at the moment he looked back he would be blind sided. Of course, Damian, the last time he had reminisced about anything, Taylor had shown up and practically slapped him in the face with his forwardness. Damian didn't want something like that to happen more than once. It was part of the reason that he didn't say anything in therapy. He didn't enjoy 'share time'.

Damian took a moment to consider the options he was being presented with. All he had to do was humor the guy for an hour. He was sure that he could probably push the kid out right then, but then he would be stuck cleaning up his own room. That was the least the kid could do. "I'll take the first version." Damian said dully as he moved toward his bed and sat on the foot of it. He didn't even really care that he was that close to Taylor. It wans't like Taylor had a disease or anything... it was that Taylor threatned all of Damian's ideals about trusting people. Damian leaned forward, resting his arms on his lap and staring ahead at his reflection in the mirror of his dresser.

"You're starting." Damian added flatly, surprised that he had even agreed to play a stupid game. He knew that he was giving Taylor the wrong idea. Damian compared it to feeding a stray animal. The more you put food out for them, the more they like to hang around and be a nuisence. He didn't want to think that he was just making Taylor think that he would be welcomed to barge in and rummage through personal things again, because honestly he wouldn't be welcomed so lightly the next time. He drew in a shallow breath, unsure about whether or not he should play a game where he had to answer questions about himself. Then again, there were no rules saying that he had to be hoenst about anything, thought it was probably preferred.

Damian could imagine twenty questions being the ultimate game for stalkers. Taylor was probably an expert at finding personal questions that would make any normal person squirm, but Damian was insistent on not letting Taylor see that he had any effect.

[TAYLOR JAMESON]

waking up on the bathroom floor

[/b]
pull myself back together just to fall once more[/font][/center]

He loved that accent. No matter what Peter or anyone said, the other boy's accent like his eyes were probably the characteristic about Damian that really caught Taylor's attention. It upset him that they all thought he was a murderer because he 'looked like it'. Such stereotypes were one of the few things that made the stalker uncomfortable. It didn't matter who it was – his best friend, an acquaintance, a kid passing by – when he heard them make fun of this boy or put labels on Damian he couldn't help but feel that one emotion that his therapists thought he no longer possessed. He felt sad. He didn't show it on his face or expression, but he knew the feeling. The feeling haunted him so much. Now just thinking of it made him feel like hugging a pillow... hugging something. Sadness, anger, hate. He said they never bothered him, but they always took the form of his father and that tiny dark room he always locked him in. No other person or thing had scared him as much as that man. He didn't care if Peter didn't believe him. Damian didn't- no, he couldn't kill anything. His instincts would have long ago told him otherwise.

Taylor nearly missed the rest of Damian's reply as he went into this minor flash back. Setting the cookies off his lap onto his side, he felt a small shiver tingle down his spine. All it took was a deep breath to shake it off, before he was smiling once again at the other boy. It delighted him that he decided to sit nearby, which turned out the only little thing that was required to cheer him up. “Well if I have a limited amount I better pick carefully,” he said, looking at the other boy with curious eyes. What did he want to want to know most? Usually he'd ask random questions to his obsessions. What's your favorite animal? What kind of shampoo do you use? If you could do anything outside, what would you do? Really, it wasn't all that personal... to an extent. You'd expect he'd ask for a pin number or the digits on a license plate, but the sad truth is he could probably figure them out without anyone telling him. He was that good.

“What's your family like? I know you grew up in Berlin, but I never figured out if you had siblings or not,” he asked curiously with a small shrug. It was almost funny how easily Taylor could mix his stalker research into a usual conversation question. He said it so flawlessly, it didn't even appear he noticed his slip. Than again, it wasn't like Taylor lied or was all the subtle. It almost made him excited to hear Damian's own question, rather than hear the answer to his. Other than Peter, not many other people had that much interest in his life. They assumed he was just some creep that was raised by creeps in a town of creeps. If only they knew. Nonetheless, he patiently waited, glancing from Damian's turned face to the reflection of him the mirror. Too bad he could only ask one question at a time. Otherwise he'd ask what he was staring so deeply at in his reflection.

Quickly Taylor's focus expired. Like the curious kid he was, he decided he wanted to find out himself. As quietly as he could he moved closer to Damian in order to get a better view of the mirror. He made sure there was a little space – as Taylor didn't want a repeat of the library – and instead of looking at Damian looked at the mirror. “Hm.” he said as if he was observing something fascinating. The truth was, he was confused again. Did Damian really just not want to look at him? As if testing it he waved at Damian through the mirror. “I thought I was missing out on something,” he said with a small laugh towards the Damian in the reflection before turning towards the real one. “You know, I've never liked mirrors. Why do people need to see what they already know is there? Oops. Sorry. Only one question at a time. Pretend I didn't say anything.” He put a hand over his mouth as if it to make sure nothing else slipped out. Hopefully Damian would remember that being quiet wasn't exactly his forte and wouldn't leave him in this torture too long.

[DAMIAN RITTER]

Everyone is so full of shit
Born and raised by hypocrites
Hearts recycled but never saved
From the cradle to the grave

Damian was sure that he probably shouldn't have agreed to play any games with Taylor. He knew that the boy annoyed him to death. Damian should have kicked him out after finding him reading his journal. The idea of having someone know his deepest thoughts made him feel vulnerable. It seemed like Taylor had gained the upper hand on him in the cruel game of life. So far Taylor had used nothing against him, but there was no telling.

The game that was chosen seemed cleverly designed to cater to Taylor's having the upper hand. Damian could just lie, but that wasn't the way he worked. He was a big fan of being bluntly honest. Why should he hold back? It was one person wanting to know about him...not the world. Still, Damian wasn't sure about how comfortable he was giving away the few secrets that he had stored away. He crossed his arms, trying to think of a way, anyway, to avoid giving to much information without lying.

Honestly Damian enjoyed the fact that Taylor only had a limited amount of questions. There was something about Taylor that made Damian think that he wouldn't choose a question that would be too personal. He was hoping from something incredibly simple to answer...something that he could answer in one or two words and it would be over with. God, why had he chosen to play this game? Damian drew in a shallow breath, wating to hear the first question. Surely Taylor wouldn't get personal. Damian couldn't care less if Taylor knew anything down from his middle name to his social security number.

Those things didn't matter. It was stuff that Damian felt the need to repress that he wasn't quiite sure he wanted to share. He tried his best to keep the anger that wanted to creep back into his system down. Damian didn't understand why he was doing that, though. Usually he would just let it out and whoever was there to take the blow would take it. But for some reason it seemed important that he hold it back while Taylor was there.

Damian looked over to Taylor, an eyebrow raised curiously. How had the boy found out he was raised in Berlin? What bothered Damian the most was that the question seemed way too personal. He didn't talk about his family much. Damian was sure that after he left his mother had probably cried and his father had probably called the police to help put his mother's weary heart to rest. But Damian didn't really care. He had never really cared about anything. He hadn't had time to answer Taylor before the boy began to move closer.

Damian felt his body tense up, his boney fingers curling around the fabric of his shirt. It was uncomfortable having Taylor that close, not because Damian hated being close to the boy, but because he felt oddly comfortable with it. Damian was uncomfortable with feeling comfortable. It bothered him to a certain extent that he could be letting his guard down so easily. That couldn't be smart. He tilted his head and the reflection of Taylor waving, unable to hold back that slight smirk that formed on his lips.

"You weren't missing out on anything." Damian said, which came out more like 'you veren'y missing ut on anyzing.' He wished that Taylor hadn't taken back the second qustion, but the first one. At least Damian could have been cryptic about the second one. He turned, looking fully at Taylor. "My family is your average family. My father, John Ritter is a doctor somewhere here in Chicago, and my mother a published novelist."

Damian shrugged, "I have no siblings." That was all the information that Damian would give. He didn't feel the need to open up and tell Taylor that there was absolutely no reason for him to be a st. John's other than a need to experience new and exciting things. "What's your family like?" Damian asked, taking advatage of that fact that it was his turn.

[TAYLOR JAMESON]

waking up on the bathroom floor

[/b]
pull myself back together just to fall once more[/font][/center]

The smirk, as small as it was, made Taylor's own smile brighten more. Those small little gestures were far too rare from Damian and, to Taylor's knowledge, only came out when he was amused. Still, the rarity possibly increased their value. Being around Peter or Steven he was used to the whole world pretty much smiling. It was obvious something was wrong when they suddenly began frowning or avoided eye contact all of the sudden Was it weird that whenever Damian smiled or smirked, he felt special? It was like this moment. From his observations of the other boy he didn't talk to anyone. Constantly he was minding his own business, kind of like he was in his own world avoiding confrontation. Even if no one else would understand, it was nice to be for once treated differently in a good way. There were the people that ignored him, the people that were interested in him, and... well he didn't know where to categorize Damian. Maybe he'd have to make a complete new category just for him...

As he answered his question, he was a little surprised to hear his parents were so high status. A doctor and writer. It was also a little shocking that his parents were in Chicago, which caused Taylor's brow to furrow. That meant that Damian wasn't homeless at all. And if he had ran away, he hadn't gone very far. Not that he could imagine a doctor and writer as the worse parents in the world. If anything, the only problem Taylor might have with working parents is them not being around enough. Deciding not to question Damian's personal reasons for being here – well at least at this time – he tilted his head at his next question. He really should have seen it coming. Leaning back he stared at the ceiling, deciding what he wanted to say. He had hoped Damian would have gone into more details of his family life, but oh well.

The scary part was even if his past wasn't exactly happy, he wasn't afraid to talk about any of it. Taylor was extremely blunt, even if he didn't intend to be rude. He didn't have many regrets and pretty much zero secrets. It was easier to face things when he was truthful to the world and truthful to himself. He didn't have a happy childhood. He didn't have nice parents. He lived in a town that hated him. All of these facts he had said about a million times to his therapists without breaking down. They all thought that because he said it so easily it was just more reason he was unbalanced. Who knows. They could be right.

“Well... I was raised in Montana with all those woods and open fields!” he said, starting on a happy note. It wasn't exactly the answer to the question, but he didn't want to jump into the bad. Highlighting the good things was something Taylor was great at. “My dad was the head police officer of the small town and my mom stayed at home with me. She probably could have made time to do other hobbies. I think she liked designing cause she was always sketching stuff. But, my Dad told her not to... It was kind of like everything was his rules,” Taylor said, slowing down at the last sentence with a pout. It was sometimes difficult to explain how OCD his father was, needing everything constantly in order and everything clean. Usually when Taylor didn't put something back properly like a book or the calendar he was punished for it. Luckily that lifestyle didn't rub off on him as his dorm room could sometimes be a complete mess.

“Um. I guess my family wasn't that average. I mean not like those Brady Bunch shows or anything. For one, I am an only child,” he said, the smile flashing back for a second at the thought of the show. “My dad wasn't very nice... he pushed my mom around a lot and liked locking me in this dark room when I was little... and did some other stuff.” The whole cat ordeal was the only thing he'd ever be fuzzy about. He never dealt well around blood and the picture of a cat's head being smashed open wasn't exactly an appealing picture. His father had practically murdered his best friend. For once his hands curled in, pinching the bed sheets but not intended to shift into fists. Even if his father had been cruel, he never hated him. Biting his lip, he wished again he could steal Damian's pillow or run to his dorm to get one of his cat's... he so needed a hug. He didn't want to look sad around Damian though, that wasn't his job. His goal was to make him happy. “Anyway, they both died in a car accident, and that's where my family ended.” he wrapped up with a shrug.

A meager smile edged on his lips as he added, “With every end, there's a new beginning, no matter what people say. I got to come here, meet new people, and learned a whole bunch of new stuff.” It appeared that nothing could bring Taylor down for too long. It was only in his nature to bounce back, already feeling his body relax again. Letting his eyes fall back to Damian the smile soon brightened again, “So it's my turn again, huh?” Trying to to think of another question was a very nice distraction from what he previously stated. “Hm, do you eat?” he suddenly chuckled at himself, “That came out weird. I meant like what do you like to eat? Like do you go out? It's obvious you're not a big cookie fan.” All evidence of sadness by this time had vanished, his eyes glowing with happiness and excitement once again.

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[DAMIAN RITTER]

Everyone is so full of shit
Born and raised by hypocrites
Hearts recycled but never saved
From the cradle to the grave

Damian wasn't sure about how he was supposed to react to Taylor's little story about his family. It wasn't like Damian to be sympathetic, but he figured it was no wonder the boy was mentally unstable. Anyone with a past like that would have some problems adjusting. He wasn't sure if he should hug the boy, which would be a little awkward for Damian, or just shrug it off. Because the mere thought of hugging Taylor worried Damian... he settled for shrugging it off. Bad things happened to everyone, right? So what, the boy's dad was a bit on the abusive side...and his mother was too soft to do anything about it. The point was that out of the three of them Taylor was chosen for survival... Taylor had been the strong one. That was all that mattered. Damian drew in a deep breath, feeling the feel of the room change completely.

This couldn't be good. Damian wasn't the best person for emotional support. He just couldn't make himself sympathize with people. But again, Damian was confused as to why Taylor held a different feeling for him. Part of him kind of wanted to be able to hug the boy, but at the same time he wasn't sure that he was capable of that kind of adjustment. It was a different kind of situation for Damian. He couldn't abandon every single belief he had built up for one person. Impossible. Besides, Damian reasoned with himself, he didn't even know Taylor all that well. He glanced toward Taylor, who was sporting a smile. Damian wasn't sure how since any other person would be crying or making a big deal about it. He had to remind himself that Taylor was no normal person.

Damian nodded when Taylor mused that it was his turn. Again he hoped that it would be nothing personal. He raised an eyebrow as Taylor continued to change his question. Damian decided not to count all three of them. He shrugged, "I do eat, of course, but i'm obviously not a pig." Damian turned so that he could look at Taylor, "My guilty pleasure food has to be peanut butter and jelly sandwiches/" That was something that Damian hadn't really had to think about, but he figured that it didn't hurt to answer a question like that. At least it wasn't a personal question. After that last one, he wasn't so sure that Taylor would ever ask him another personal question.

"Why do you stalk people...specifically me?" Damian asked curiously. The other boy had an interesting hobby, though Damian would never choose it for himself. It scared Damian that someone was getting to know him. He tried to convince himself that it wasn't like that... that once Taylor was satisfied and had a bunch of surface knowledge, then he would get bored and move on. Yeah- that had to be howit would work.

[TAYLOR JAMESON]

waking up on the bathroom floor

[/b]
pull myself back together just to fall once more[/font][/center]

Taylor couldn't help but release a small giggle, amused by Damian's guilty pleasure. It didn't take a lot make him laugh. “PB and J?” he repeated with a smile, “Well at least it be easy to go grocery shopping for you. I love PB and J, but the jelly always gets so sticky. And you have to put the perfect amount of each, otherwise it's so unbalanced. You either get a chunk of peanut butter or too much fruity jelly.” His nose wrinkled at the end, obviously experiencing both of those scenarios. Damian's favorite food really did surprise Taylor a little bit. He was thinking of something fancy or with a name he couldn't pronounce. Nonetheless, it did make Tye feel more comfortable to think the two of them were more alike than he thought. “I'll have to make some next time I come over! Or, well...” he began, biting his tongue at the end. He wasn't exactly sure if Damian would want him back again after he gave him that hour time frame. It was like after the hour was up, he was suppose to be out of the other boy's hair. No one had to dig deep to notice that Taylor didn't want to leave. As each minute passed, the situation more and more appeared like it would turn into one where Damian would have to drag him out if he wanted to get rid of him.

It wasn't Taylor's fault that Damian was so much fun! The other boy didn't seem to notice it, but he was really easy to talk to. Yeah, he sometimes had his smiting comments, yet Taylor could lie on his bed all day talking. It was also nice that he was being so honest when it came to answering his questions. At least, Tye thought he was. He saw no reason to question anything that came out of the other boy's mouth. It was odd how he felt early on that he could trust him. As the next question reached his ears, his smile brighten. No matter who it was, he'd always love people interested in his hobby. It was like someone asking someone else about art, or music, or writing, or how to build a bird house. Just someone intrigued about another's interest always fueled the person informing with excitement, especially one as odd as Taylor's.

“Well, I really don't have a reason,” he began, taking a moment to think about how he'd start. “It's not like I'm some creepy guy that takes people's belongings and builds shrines, or kisses the floor the people I stalk walk on.” That was a common misconception a lot got from Taylor. They all assumed he was deeply in love with the people he followed or at least had some interest in. “Actually, I follow people because I'm curious. I like seeing from other people's perspective and by following them I learn a lot of new stuff! Like I followed this guy that worked at a computer store, and that's how I'm so good researching. And then I followed this girl who drew a lot and in order to follow her I enrolled in her drawing classes. And I can draw things better than stick figures now!” He loved telling stories, his smile beaming as if he was childishly proud of his accomplishments.

“You in particular though...? Hmm...” What had been his reason? “You were different. I don't follow boring people because then I get bored, right? Something about you sparked my interest though. You, you...” It was obvious he was trying to find a word, but realized soon after it would be an impossible task. No word could properly pull it together. “... you responded to me differently. I mean, I get 'fuck off' time to time, but you could have been A LOT worse. I actually thought after I followed you around more you get a little more sick of it and snap at me.” At that part his smile became sheepish, wondering if he should have admitted to that. Oh well, too late. “But I'm really glad I took an interest in you. I learned a ton about Germany, found out more about you than I think anyone would, and... well got to talk to you. I don't think I would have had that chance if I had just said 'hi' to you time to time in the hallway.” He said with a small pout at the idea of not getting to know Damian. “You know what? I'm really glad I took that chance in the library,” he sincerely added with a smile.

Feeling warm about the whole conversation and honestly feeling like they were bonding, Taylor took another risk. He couldn't help it, he just did it when he felt happy around someone he wanted to consider his friend. Being close, it was easy. Without warning he wrapped his arms around Damian, nuzzling his head into the boy's shoulder gently. Even though he didn't expect Damian to hug back, he still would take it rather than no hug at all. The embrace was a little longer than the one in the library, but Taylor didn't push his luck too much. Soon his arms were back against his sides and his chocolate eyes went from Damian's face to the ground. Part of him worried this wouldn't turn out well. The other part, didn't particularly care. If he were to be pushed a way now, at least he got a hug out of it before having to leave.

Knowing his time would soon expire, Taylor got up from the bed and wandered over to the drawers he had opened up. Slowly but surely, all clothes that had been messed up were folded in Tye's lap before being returned to their proper place. The boy didn't appear to see it as a chore at all. Like always, he wore a smile, even as he pushed in the drawers and picked up any big cookie crumbs. Laughing he said, “Wow I really did leave a lot of crumbs. You probably could of followed them all back to my room if you hadn't come here as early as you did.” Wasn't that from a book or something with bread crumbs? Little Red Riding Hood... no? Was it Hansel and Gretal? Or was that Jack and Jill? Taylor mused over those thoughts as he continued to clean like he promised.

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