You can sit there for hours and never even twitch your lip. You could stare off into space and never blink. You could sit there for hours.

I could never.

Every time one of these guys – who I love so very much, cracks a joke, I cannot resist. I must do as they please. I must laugh.

You never do.

You sit and wait. You never roll your eyes. You never react to anything. You just sit and wait. I try and watch you, but I become distracted. My brothers, the people I care for the most always have me smiling. Always have me cackling, and I can't help but forget about my guilt for one second and just laugh, like the good old times.

I am always left laughing last. I am always the one who has the ungraceful chuckle in the awkward silence, that seems to always falter in its pitches and notes. I am always left clutching my side, gasping for air. I'm always the one who cannot contain my fit of giggles after looking into Sam's eyes for a long while. I may forget about you and my guilt for a second or two, but I always remember whenever I see you.

How could I ever fight temptation? I must laugh. The joke was funny. And when I hear something is funny, I laugh.

You used to laugh. Not anymore.

The only thing you can give is a small raise of the lip, but it's gone so fast it's almost as if it never existed. And calling it a smile, is already pushing the limit...it's more like a grimace.

But I'm very optiimistic about you so I lie to myself, and call it a smile. Even though your nose is upturned, as if you're smelling something bad...I look past that, and think of it as an act of happiness and not one of disgust

I cannot forget the even then it looks troubling, as if that little grin was too much for you to even muster...as if you did not want to smile, at the laughter around us. As if you have no more room in your heart for fun and love, hilarity and life...as if you are just a dead soul that only looks up and down. Side to side. And then back at your hands in closing comfort.

I gulp.

You sniff a couple of times, but your unimpressed state never changes. The stare in your eyes is hard for me to look at. Only then, can I see how truly empty you've become. When I look into your eyes for ten seconds...I see it all. I see all the pain inflicted, and I want nothing more than to take it away and make you laugh again. Bring you back

I look at you once, and all I see is bags under your eyes, all I see is tiredness in your body...your shoulders limp, your legs look heavy, as if it is a burden for you to even walk. Your hands are lifeless...like a corpse, when you raise them they sag down, as if you have no strength to pick them up.

Then I look at you deeper and deeper...and I cannot deny that your beauty still prospers...I cannot ignore how even though the stress you endured was unreal, you still manage to silence each and everyone of us with your perfection.

Then I reach your eyes and see how emotionless they are.

I frown, whenever I notice your aloof stare. But because these guys are so funny, it doesn't take me long to laugh again.

Your brother often looks at you in nothing but worry, nothing but love and hope, he looks at you and flinches as if he suffers from physical pain just from the sight of you. He refrains from smiling for a while...until something gets him going. But even then, that laugh is fake and strained, as if he doesn't really want to. As if all he thinks about is you.

After he looks at you, he looks at Sam. He shoots him a look of pure loathing, hatred for him. Sam only looks down in shame. No one speaks.

Not until Quil cracks a joke that leaves everyone flying off the walls. Leave it to Quil. Leave it to the guys to make everything better.

But we all know. And we all forget who really is to blame. We all forget...or choose to ignore the fact, that Sam is not the one that deserves Seth's hate filled glares.

Making it better is only making it worse. We are only covering the truth. We are only hiding from fact, but when we hear it, we know. We raise our eyebrows and smile tightly. Some look away uncomfortably from the terrible honesty, but it's true. We all know it's true. We all know who the real culprit is to blame for your pain...

And coincidentally, it's always the last one laughing.

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