Oliver is a manga artist, but he was once an angry little boy with a sunny best friend: Ian Miller. Then, one day, they weren't friends anymore. Oliver doesn't know when was it exactly that Ian disappeared from his life, and refuses to remember why...
I have to tell him, to say it out loud now, right now.
"Oliver..."
I turn his damp, flushed face in my hand, and speak into his ear even though I don't know where my body ends, and where his begins.
"Shut up, fucker... Don't call me that."
"Ollie," I insist. "Listen to me, tell me you are."
"I'm..." His fogged honey shines through hooded lids. "I'm listening."
"I fucking love you, Oliver," I hold his face to say. "I've loved you every single day of my life, you know that, right?"
And Oliver laughs. A sound as raw and beautiful as he is.
"I know, moron," he murmurs, deciding that it's my turn to hear, his turn to hold me. "I know."
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ONE YEAR LATER...
Mad Soundsby Arctic Monkeys.
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When I was a kid, I hated rain.
Other kids seemed to love it, jumping in puddles, getting a cup of hot cocoa when coming back home and all that. To me it meant that Dad and I wouldn't go out, where things were always better, and I never liked getting wet.
When I grew up, that changed— inside was better. I didn't have to talk to people I didn't like, I never found it fun to pretend to drink, and pretty fucking stupid to actually do it until you pass out.
Inside meant video games, my favorite anime, my favorite sandwich. And Ian.
When Ian left, inside started sucking again. But by then I hadn't been outside for so long, all noises had become too much. The air felt dirty, it stuck to my clothes and skin, and I kept waiting for it to rain enough that I wouldn't have to go to school, but I still didn't like getting wet.
