Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 6

clothing department, Sammy had made sure to point out that he liked color in his wardrobe, gesturing to the all-black outfit Bran was rocking and making a funny face. In response, Brandon picked out a flowery, colorful Hawaiian shirt and handed it to him. This was quickly tossed back, only to land on his head.
    He had thought about bringing Sam to his favorite store, Hot Topic, just to see his face, but they really didn't have that kind of time today. The idea of Samael wearing guyliner, in a spiked dog collar, and with a pair of fingerless gloves, made Bran want to purr. Not that he'd go for it.
    It was just an all-around great day.
    Sammy was now garbed in jeans and a blue t-shirt that made his eyes stand out, because Bran needed another reason to be drawn into them. Not.
    They had brought the bag with the remainder of the new clothes back to his car, picked up Sam's knife– because no one can go anywhere without a shiny, bejeweled gold dagger, of course— and went to the coffee shop to get some lunch. They were sitting outside now, munching on some sandwiches and talking like old friends.
    Brandon had heard about this phenomenon– where you meet someone and immediately feel like you've known that person forever— but he thought it was a bunch of bull. Now that it was happening to him, it was surreal.
    "So, your father disowned you?"
    "Pretty much, yes." Samael looked sad.
    "Why? I mean, I know that stuff happens sometimes, but why did he go to that extreme." There had to be more to the story.
    Samael was silent for a few minutes, but he seemed to be thinking, so Brandon waited patiently.
    The man finally did answer, but seemed to choose his words very carefully. "Well. My… brother. He did some horrible things, and blamed me for them."
    "And your dad believed him." It wasn't really a question, but Sam answered anyway.
    "Yes, and before I knew it, I was disavowed and removed with nothing to my name."
    "That's really harsh." And it was. I mean, jeeze. He could have at least let the guy take some clothes or something with him.
    "Yeah, well, sometimes my Father can be… stringent." Samael looked wary. "He always has his reasons though, even if he is not always forthcoming with them." There was something Samael wasn't saying, Brandon knew it. He didn't think the man was lying to him, just not giving all the deets. That was okay, though. He had some crap in his past that he didn't really want aired, in all its stinking misery. So, he got it.
    He did feel like he owed Sam something. After all, he did open up. This was no longer generic conversation, about books and music and such. This was personal, and deserved a bit of the same in return.
    "I've been on my own since I was eighteen. My mom died when I was ten." He glanced up at his companion. "Car crash. I wound up in foster care. The good thing is my foster parents sent me to college, and helped me get scholarships to pay for it. Then they were gone. They'd done their duty. The rest of it… well…" Brandon focused on his half-eaten sandwich again, pulling it apart.
    "Not so good, eh?"
    He shrugged. "I lived."
    "What about your father? Why did he not take custody of you?" Samael sounded concerned. It was… nice.
    "I don't know who he is, never met him." Bran tried to give Sam a smile, and knew it fell flat. It sucked not having a dad. Sucked even more the way people treated him sometimes because of it. Like his mom was some kind of whore or something, and then after her death, like a nobody.
    "I suppose everyone has their own story, huh?" Sam gave him a smile back, and then froze. His eyes had flickered over Bran's shoulder, and then flew back and stayed. He was just staring at something.
    Brandon turned to look, and before he knew what was happening Samael was running past his field of vision, chasing some guy. The stranger glanced back, and saw the big man barreling toward him. His eyes widened, and he took off, pushing people out of his way and jumping over bags and chairs, knocking a few over in the process. He threw down a trash can behind him as he ran, trying to block the oncoming train that was Samael. Sam just followed, dodging and weaving, trying to avoid the obstacles in his path.
    Bran didn't know when he'd gotten up, but he was running in the same direction, tagging along behind some distance. He wasn't as good at avoiding things, and he stumbled a few times, murmuring apologies at the irritated onlookers that he past. He turned the corner just in