"Hi," I said desperately, " ... do I know you?"
His empty yet hoping eyes stared back at me, saying nothing in return. No friendly gesture, no blink of an eye. Nothing.
He looked heavy with burden, tired for such a young fellow. I wanted to stretch out my arms and at least offer a hug, but I soon felt such a gesture would be met with disrespect. It felt more comfortable to do nothing, and just stare at him.
"Are you okay," I had wanted to ask. But his eyes told me not too. His sullen demeanor spoke thousands of words that I could not comprehend, yet could still feel. Somehow I knew I must do nothing.
He seemed angry, tired, hurt ... all at the same time. Somehow I knew he had become a drone, a walking expressionless shell. The bags under his eyes told me so.
And so I put my toothbrush down, and when back to bed to sleep with my eyes wide open.
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