This boy is fickle.
Even his most honest answers leave her wondering.
He harbors so many secrets.
Yet he seems to be real.
The secret keeper.
A janus god.
Two-faced yet true to a higher aim.
She is lost in it.
Lost in the sweetness and allure and beauty.
Lost in a web of precious moments.
Confusion and desire warring in emerald oceans.
Helpless surrender over better judgement.
She can almost taste the boy.
His genuine laughter.
That modulated, caressing voice.
The broken baritone of his plea.
It´s like velvet, silk and and a light touch of rain.
He is like poetry Sara thinks
and for a second
is amused by the literary comparison.
Sometimes former addicts can and do
forgo their drug
and Scofield´s nothing short of that to her.