There are caravans we follow
Drunken nights in dark hotels
When chances breathe between the silence
Where sex and love no longer gel
my eye hurts. correction. the bone next to my eye hurts. on the outside of the eyes, next to my left one. this is all chris wood's fault. well, his nuckle is the one who contacted with my eye (well, almost eye, not actually my eye, but when i say eye, next to it is what i mean) but it is really vic's fault, as always. except it actually is.
we were in the dunkin donuts in waltham at something like 1:30 or 2am. vic was being a bastard, on top of being WAY more flirty with me than i am comforatable with him being. (him specific) and was threatening to pour coffie on me. chris made some sort of comment, i turned to playfully hit him, and he blocked, and i turned my head weird and something and i might have been destracted in making my movements 'cause out of the corner of my eye i cought henry and clint walking up to the dunkin donuts, but somehow the bone next to my eye contacted with chris's knuckles. and i know it was red then, and it looked like it was going to turn purple. but my hands were icy cold so i didn't need to procure ice from the dunkin donuts people, which is good, but as henry said, the entire even looked kinda sketchy. he walked in and said "you, know, from outside it looked like chris hit you" and i turned to him, hand over bruised spot, eyes wattering like mad, and said "well, he kinda did" and henry being all gentalmanly like got this kinda panicked or surprised or disgusted, no, shocked, look on his face, and i then clarified "it was an acciedent, and it was probably vics fault anyways" and laughed the whole thing off. but it HURT. and it still hurts, and i have yet to look at the thing this morning to see if it's actually turning purple.
so yea, that's why my eye hurts.
and the moral of today's story is -- sometimes, it really IS vic's fault