There Are Easier Things
Sometimes you just have to wonder about the guy, ya know? Like the way he looks at small animals - they stare at each other for a long time, and then when the rat or whatever runs off he jerks after it before he can catch himself. Or the way he just heals everything - I mean, I knew that he was getting shot up and no one can miss that many bullets, but he doesn't have any fucking scars, but I never really figured it was anything wierd.
But then, when I say he doesn't have any scars, I'm not counting the one on his neck and down his back, 'cause that shit's worse than any scar I've ever seen. Scars can have memories of their own, and hell knows I have my own fair share, but let's just say bodies don't usually last long enough after an injury that bad to make a scar like that.
So even though I'm fucking the guy and he's my goddamn partner, I barely know anything about him at all. I guess that's only fair, 'cause I don't exactly talk about myself either, but it's kind of uncomfortable sometimes, I guess. He's even skinner than me, and I wonder if he eats at all, 'cause to get skinnier than me's pretty hard. He's got a lot of pride, which was why I was surprised when he let me fuck him in the first place, but I guess everybody's got something they can't work out. He's fucking piss-scared of women, and his little angel is way off-limits, so I guess he has to get rid of all that sexual tension somewhere. He should just take up smoking.