“You come from a place that hurts.” I said, looking into his eyes.
“Isn’t that a line in a song?” He asks. He knows my music. No one knows my music. Why does he have all of these connections to me? To where I’m from?
“You caught me. I’m just a plagiarizer.”
“A good one.”
“Nothing about me is good. You are good and I can’t stand to be with you for it.”
“Doesn’t stop me from wanting you.” The look in his eyes is serious now.
“You wouldn’t want me if you knew what happened back there.”
“I’m ok with plagiarizing, but I’m not ok with assumptions. You can’t say that if you’re not willing to tell me and see if i run.”
“But I don’t want to risk seeing you run.”
“What happened to not standing me?”
“That went out the door when I fell for you.” That line was lame I tell myself. I should stick to stealing lyrics. I can see the slight smile on his face. I relax a little because things seem lighter now, more at ease. And that’s how I want them to be, it’s the whole reason I cover everything up.