I could be buried in my expectations.

He laid back, staring at the dots on his ceiling and the way that they bunched together in the corner closest to his door. He took in a breath and whispered out, "I think I'll become a reader. I'm a little sick of baseball." He closed his eyes; waited for silence because he had become accustomed to her silence.

Instead, she touched his forearm. "You can't just become something that you weren't before."

He wanted to argue, but decided to be content in her answering at all. "I suppose you're right. An artist probably couldn't get away with picking up tapdancing shoes."

She nodded, satisfied with the knowledge that he agreed though she hadn't listened to a single word he actually said; and was definitely bullshitting her. She closed her eyes and did not notice that his body had tensed next to her like it does when he's angry.

"What are we? I mean...Really, what do we do?" He was full of resentment, though his voice was dripping with insecurity.

"We lay in bed and we contradict each other." She answered matter-of-factly.

And like a toddler full of why's, he pushed. "But what are we? Aren't we supposed to be in love?"

She sat up, cocking her head to the side and taking a second to notice how hopeful his eyes could look despite the way he knew it was futile. There was a brief, passing moment in which she almost wanted to just say what would make him happy. But she knew lying just wasn't her style and yet breaking hearts seemed to fit her like brand new jeans. She could make him happy, but she'd never really mean it. So instead she rest her head back against the wall behind the bed, took in a breath for added affect, and then lowly stated, "You can't just become something that you weren't before."

He took in the words, having to replay them in his mind a million times with in the few moments of silence that followed. He wondered if she could hear his heart crack, and then he wondered why it hurt so much; what was wrong with him. He didn't love her either, but he had kind of hoped that she would make him. Doing his best to keep his jaw clenched and somehow speak at the same time, he ignored the tightness in his throat caused by the knot that was growing every second. "So, if you don't love from step one, it just won't ever happen?" And all at once, he was sick of her speaking like a novel while he made himself so obvious. "I don't believe you."

She tried to avoid letting her eyes grow, but couldn't deny the fact that he had shocked her. His sudden growth of a back bone and pair had not been what she was expecting in terms of a reaction. Shutting her eyes again, she watched the inside of her eyelids and admitted to herself that he was right, but also admitted that she wasn't one for games of effort. "Are you the now or never kind?" Taking in a breath and holding it, she realized for the first time that she didn't really want him to say yes. She sounded more hopeful than she wanted to be noticed, but she knew he'd notice anyway.

He crawled out of the bed, and stood by his door. Peeking up at the bundle of dots that were now directly above his head, he opened the door from behind him. "Maybe I should be." His words were cold and final, and he was out of sight by the very last one.

She knew well enough to be gone by the time he'd returned, because he'd meant what he said. And she had unknowingly chosen never.