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Sky watched Henry walk off, and felt a sting of disappointment. [color=pink]“Of course he went to comfort the tragic Disney princess,”[/color] he muttered, flicking paint at the bench with a little more force than necessary. [color=pink]“Who wouldn’t?”[/color]

He paused, catching himself. His grip on the brush loosened. [color=pink]“She’s been through hell. Don’t be a bitch, Sky.”[/color] Sky bit his lip and sighed, quieter this time. [color=pink]“She just happens to be the kind of broken people run toward. I’m the kind they run from.”[/color]

He dipped the brush back into the paint with less flair this time. He dragged it across the bench in silence. Every now and then looking back at Henry and Kassy. Wishing. Not for her pain, but for the softness it invited. For someone to look at him the way Henry looked at her. Just once.

[color=pink]“Too loud. Too much. Too fake. And when I’m not?”[/color] His lips quirked into something like a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. [color=pink]“Still too much.”[/color]

He blinked, shook it off, and forced his usual smirk back onto his face like a mask being reapplied. He gave the bench a sassy flick of the brush. [color=pink]“…Still should’ve let me paint it pink.”[/color]