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“I should think so,” I answered for the speechless man, laughter infusing my voice as I sat back in my chair. “Oli is my roommate.”
“Everyone loves to play with those of us that are broken.” I reached up and gripped the sleeves of his shirt, not letting him back away from me as I finished. “Until they find all our sharp edges. But you and I, we rejoice at every cut. Every scratch makes us feel, proving to us that we’re alive. I can see that we’re the same in that way, just by looking at you. You want to break me just as much as I want to break you, so we can play along those edges.”
