love should cost an arm and

alan stands in the doorway, rocking back and forth on his heels.
robby walks right past him, to which he responds by trying to catch up with him.
alan clears his throat, “do i, uh,” robby turns around, “do i look good?” his voice is small.
“yeah.” robby turns back around.
alan smiles, “you promise?”
“yeah, i wouldn’t give you something you look ugly in.”
“alright,” beat. “i like it.”
“good.” robby sighs, “you look good in it.”
“i do?”
“yeah. yeah, it’s pretty.”
alan has bruises on his neck, face, arms, legs, jagged scratches up his arms. “i’m glad.” he stops, “do you think i look good?” he feels as if he knows the answer.
“sure.” robby stops, then staring only at the bruises. “you look beautiful.” he isn’t looking alan in the eye. he doesn’t see him smile.
“mod robby?”
“i love you.
“do you love me?”