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There had been somebody you’d been admiring for a while. Tall, freakishly so, with chub all around. An eerie smile always plastered on his face, complimented by his scruffy black hair and beard, all tied in with the bright orange jumpsuit that everyone around here (including yourself) wore.
The wilting grass of the prison yard spread all around you as your free time neared its end. You watched as the very man you’d been thinking of was escorted back into the bleak grey building, delivered in specially because of his nature, violent, brutish, and very, very deadly. You didn’t mind, however, it was something you could look past.
You didnt realize until a guard called your name that you were still sitting on the ground while everyone filed through the door, quickly running in behind them.
You found yourself next in the cafeteria, mindlessly picking at the bland plate of whatever-the-hell in front of you. As coherent thoughts finally entered your brain, you scanned the room.
Orange jumpsuits on worn-out bodies lined each table as you scanned, however one table was oddly out-of-place.
A table that was mostly full, except at one end, around 2 feet from any other prisoner sat Bob, the man you’d been thinking about all day, mindlessly picking at the food just as you were. You supposed maybe he was hoping for somebody to talk to, just as you were.
You made up your mind, making your way over to the table where Bob sat, placing your food down in front of you, sitting across from him.
His eyes glanced up at you, and you swore you could see a glint of surprise.
“…can i help ye?” His voice was low and raspy, with a smooth southern drawl.
You thought for a moment, unsure of how to respond, before making up your mind.
“Well.. not exactly, i suppose,” you paused, thinking once more, “I guess i just wanted to talk to you.”
Bob let out a hearty laugh before responding.
“Me? Darlin’, are you sure you got the right guy?”
Now, it was your turn to laugh. “Of course I’m sure, c’mon, I think we can find at least something to talk about.”
And that did it. You two talked all of lunchtime, and after that, and after that.
That night, you snuck into his cell, seeing as he had an extra bed but no cellmate.
As you two had been laying on his cot, talking about whatever came to your minds for what felt like hours. As it got later and later you realized that in your rambling, Bob had fallen asleep, a loud, prominent snore began to ring out.
As you began to sit up, an arm grabbed you, pulling you into bob’s plush chest.
You squirmed, attempting to get out of his vice grip and into the vacant cot, when a mumble was uttered into your hair.
“….Pretty thing…. can’t let ‘em go…”
You blushed as you accepted your fate of being a murderer’s teddy bear.
You’d be dead once the guards saw you out of your cell, but this made it all worth it.