Re: jude/oli: sonrisa
[Jude knew bad, and Oliver knew bad. He imagined that they both knew night sweats and terrors, but Oliver didn't know death like Jude knew death.] I didn't want her to...
[As if that was just another confirmation that he hadn't wanted any of the bad things that happened to them. Not one. Jude squeezed his arm, but Oliver was already crying. He didn't evening know why. He hadn't known the woman, not by a glimpse, and not by her blood splatter. But for some reason, he was so overwhelmed with tears. He didn't know why. Could fear and thought stack upon your senses until they pressed upon your very tear ducts? The feeling was building stronger, and he couldn't sniff them away. He wanted to run, and he didn't know why. He didn't want to go anywhere, but he wanted to be somewhere small and dark where nothing could touch him and he could just be for a second while he wiped his tears.
Instead, he used Jude's shoulder. He was trying not to cry, and the shock of it all helped, but tears were still watering in his eyes without any influence of sobbing. His brother asked about the painting, and Oliver closed his eyes, thinking.]
Its going to be red... washed out red, and he's going to be black... for his hair.