must have looked exactly the way it did now

It's their hands and feet I can't stop looking at.

Intimate, taking the same form, as though in an embrace. The matching slouch of their hips; casual and open. It's tender somehow. Studded belt, cut-off Dickies, the bad tattoos-- but still he looks vulnerable, touching his own side, his friend's arm outstretched.

You never know what happens between people in a relationship. Even if it's your relationship.

Or I am I just being sensitive.

It's the fall-out. It's hard to take when I think of it too long and suddenly everything looks sad and misunderstood.