You're smiling again. You're always smiling and it confuses me. Everything's always okay, but I know differently. You think I don't notice when you tense when my hand trails on your arm, or how you avoid changing in front of others. Your blue jacket covers up what you think no one knows exists, your bright smile covering up the feeling you won't let anyone know.
"Butters, wait up!"
You turn to me, smiling with your usual greeting. You fix the slip of your jacket, but not before I notice the yellow and purple fingers marring your pale skin. I hate myself as I once again pretend to not notice. You talk as if nothing's wrong, you smile as if you aren't in pain. When time comes for us to part ways, I can see the hesitation in your eyes. For once, you let your facade slip. I pull you into a hug, burying my face in your hair as you stand still in shock. I gently lift your hand up, which you try to pull back. "P-please l-let me g-go," you fearfully beg as I move back the blue sleeve.
"I already know."
I bring my chapped lips to the ugly bruise.
"Butters, I'm here for you."
