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He seemed almost angry now, constantly on edge eyebrows never un-furrowing, jaw locked tight. Colby honestly wanted to just cry at this person who was in no way the boy he would consider his best friend, he wanted to help more though. Sam didn't want help. Colby new he should have listened to his thoughts that night, the scratches were from Sam's own pale pink painted nails. He should have noticed how some days he'd walk out of the bathroom eyes slightly red from tears, how he would start harshly scratch at his wrists when the silence was going. The way some days he'd walk in with just a little less hop in his step. The person who embodied happiness was clearly shattered and he should have noticed sooner. Oh how he wishes he would have noticed sooner.
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