Jailbreak ?Maxian?

People looked at us differently the next time we went into the cafeteria. They would throw a small glance and then look away and hope I didn't notice. They were afraid of me. Previously, everyone knew me as the quiet guy with a life sentence. They didn't know what I was capable of or what I had done to earn myself that sentence. But now they got a glimpse into what happens when I'm pushed too far.

Max is oblivious to this, as usual. They now know not to mess with him because he's under my protection. They now know what happens when someone does something to him that I don't like.

We sit in our normal spot with our food and eat. Max digs right in while I eat in a slower, more reserved manner. While I eat, I look around to see which guard is on duty, in hope that it's Ryan so that I can apologize. I find that there are extra guards on duty now, which is probably my fault, but none of them happen to be Ryan.

I hastily make a decision to ask one when Ryan will be on duty again, so I tell Max I'll be back and walk over to one of the more familiar guards. "I have a question."

"I may have an answer," he replied.

"When will Ryan be on duty again?" I ask.

"I can't answer you that," he tells me.

"Please?" I beg. "I really need to talk to him."

"Guards aren't supposed to make small talk with inmates," he robotically states. "Now go sit back down."

I sigh and walk back over to the table. Max raises an eyebrow when I sit.

"I was asking when Ryan was back on duty," I inform him.

"What did he say?" Max inquires.

"He wouldn't tell me," I sigh.

"I'm sure you won't have to wait that long," he reassures me.

"I hope."

<m>

It was free time and Max and I decided to spend it in the library since it's one of the least populated areas. There's a small sitting area in the back with a beat-up, old couch that's so worn out that the cushions make you fall towards the middle. I let Max sit in the middle, since it's less worn than the other two seats, while I sat to his left. He had an old book in his lap, focussing down on the finely printed words. I sat leaned back, trying my best to not fall into him and disturb his reading.

I watched him while he read. His eyes were locked onto the page, biting his lip in concentration. His dark curls falling forward and almost into his eyes as his head was tilted down slightly. I admired his features, from his soft skin cheeks to his plumply perfect nose to the form of his lips. Max was a beautiful person and I couldn't deny that even if I wanted to.

"Why are you staring at me?" He asks without looking up from his book. "Do I have something on my face?"

"No," I reply simply.

"Then why?" He looks up from his book and directly at me this time.

"You're very beautiful," I tell him.

"That's gay," he laughs slightly as a light red coats over his cheeks.

"Not really," I shrug. "I think I can admire your looks without it being gay."

"It's gay," he says.

"It would be gay if I said I like you because of your looks, but I didn't. All I said was that you're beautiful, meaning that I observe that you have nice looks," I explain.

"You sound smart," he smiles. "And thank you, I guess, for the compliment."

"You're welcome," I smile. "I just thought that you should know."

"I think you look good as well," he tells me.

"Faggot," I joke.

"Fuck up, cunt," he laughs. I can't help but enjoy the sound of his laugh too. He has the kind of laugh that just makes you feel happy when you hear it.

"You have a very cute laugh," I say without thinking.

"Stop being gay," he laughs and blushes.

"You're just making me gay, dude," I laugh as well.

"Oh am I now?" He jokes. "So you're gay for me now then?"

"It seems like I am." Admitting to that felt odd, whether I was joking or not. To be quite honest, I don't know if I am joking anymore.

"What even is this conversation anymore?" Max says with another laugh.

"No clue," I laugh as well.

"Well it's gay for one thing," he says. "But just as a joke."

"Yeah, as a joke." That was harder to say than it should've been. I don't think I actually want to be joking anymore. I think I do genuinely like Max.