Reaching High

"...I...see. I would have thought being able to become something so wonderful would be a thing the elite would want to save for themselves. How odd." Sam had thought Remi's world at least in some ways similar from the way he dressed and could use the items in the place around him, but it seemed as he learned more and more it was clear they had very different original cultures, marked out in a million little details. The hand had meant to be a casual kind of touch, not anything meaningful, just something he would do for anyone reassuringly; (or at least, something he was trying to learn to do, to be a little bolder with his attempts at conversation) but it seemed like it had an adverse affect on Remi. Instantly Sam drew away as if burnt, hating that he never seemed to know what to do when it came to this man. Then suddenly it was back, Remi's insistence that he should leave. Sam sighed, chewed at his lip. You couldn't really pull someone back twice, could you? Eventually you would just feel like a desperate loser, which was exactly what was happening. "...Alright, if you'd like. I'm...sorry. If I make you uncomfortable." There was a flat sadness in his tone but nothing intentionally guilting, Sam trying to look as if he was going to read the book before him now and not watch Remi leave. Samuel At seventeen, I started to starve myself I thought that love was a kind of emptiness And at least I understood then the hunger I felt And I didn't have to call it loneliness