Ezra tilted his head a little to the side. She was being nice to him, but as much as he wanted to keep holding her hands he pulled them away. If anyone saw her she'd be labeled a sympathizer. He shrugged a little. She was worrying about him for reason other than possibly guilt. He found it impossible to believe there could be someone out of his faith in a time like this that would ever give two shits about him. He flashed her a small smile to show his appreciation before standing up and pulling her with him. The streets had begun to clear when the air started to smell like rain and the light outside began to disappear. He glanced up at the sky and he started to regret not bringing a jacket or something that could shield them from the rain.

"I didn't let you feel my skin so you would feel sorry for me. I did it so you would understand. You don't understand...you don't understand anything," he said sadly, "you live in those big houses encased inside a bubble of the rich. Protected because you're part of the system, not part of the problem. You get to go home and forget I exist and pretty soon I might not, but I get to go home and remember your kindness. I get stuck with the idea that maybe they're not all bad, and I get that small bit of hope that maybe this country won't listen to [i]him.[/i] I'll get beaten again and you'll be in my mind, where you have no right to be. But you won't have thought of me once."

His words were soft, full of defeat as he stood there. A few drops of rain seemed to fall when his voice stopped. The curls in his hair bounced a little and he looked up wondering if he'd ever get to feel the rain when he was older. Would he live long enough to teach his own kids that looking up at the rain could bring a sense of calmness and security. He lost himself for a moment as he tried to think of the future he so desperately wanted, but all he saw was her face behind his eyes. Her eyes holding the guilt of something she had no control over. She seemed to hang onto every word he said and it pained him to break down the barrier her parents seemed to build around her. He saw her crying...crying because of him. In his mind he reached out a hand and wiped away a tear the way she had done for him. 

"I should start getting you home. Lead the way, miss," Ezra said not knowing what else to call this girl, but even if he did know her name he would never speak it. To speak a name meant friendship and he would not allow himself to get close to someone that could be his undoing. He looked back to her and started to reach out his hand so she could guide him, but then he let his arm drop. She wasn't another girl from down the street. He had no right to touch her. She was part of the elite.