Five/Aidan Imagines [BoyxBoy]

NICOTINE AND TEARS - PART II

Isaac 🥺🥺.

❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎

Mahogany wood dug into the nape of my neck when my heavy head rested against a windowsill. The weight of the drugs clouding in my head and behind my eyes blurred my senses and the hazy gray sky that was displayed above me, hypnotizing me with the clouds swirling in authentic patterns and repetitive sways. I sucked in a nicotine encouraged breath and studied the way that the whiter clouds of mine mimicked the movements of the rainy day's showcase with swirls and licks in the air.

My lungs burned something fierce in a way that enticed me to continue the session I began with my friend of many years, Reese. We were notorious for our drug exchanges and our market in selling doughnut shit to horny but lonely 18 year olds around the block. Some of them we knew for as long as we held our stoner reputations in the palms of our hands, some of them we haven't even seen more than once. A flash of a face, of a life we never had the opportunity to know personally. Reese was the type of person to not realize the fact that other people had significant others too, friends to text, families to impress. The whole business thing has been eating my insides up with guilt knowing that I have been ruining their lives and encouraging them to fall into that inescapable hole that I've wound up in after I got sent to this dumb ass foster home. He never knew that maybe what we were doing meant nothing to me.

Sure, he was my friend and I loved him like family. But with our constant smoking sessions nowadays, he never really talked to me anyway, rather just eye fucked his cocky new boyfriend who hated my guts or just stared off into space like a retard, not even taking one single hit of any drug. It's like our friendship and all of its spontaneous memories and kinks and unique factors of it never existed at all. Never even mattered.

I shifted in my spot on the ground as my ass was growing numb, and I huffed a short breath. I hated how I acted like this. All of this- everything about me, was utter bullshit. Everyone thought I was some carefree teenager who could joke about sex and live an indifferent life knowing that I would kick the bucket sooner or later. Fucking desperate teens left and right and drinking every last Red Solo down to the bottom was my presumed motto. Well guess what? Guess.

It isn't! Haha!

Fucking Hell! I hated my life! I hated how my lungs were always feeling like they were on fire, I hated how Reese or anyone didn't care for me anymore, I hated how Julian stole him away from me when, oh my God, I actually fucking loved him and he never even knew it, and I hated how my eyes cross when I throw a childish tantrum like I was doing now! GOD, I NEED MY GLASSES!!!

I groaned loudly in anger against the whole world, against myself, and I sat up to fling my glass bong across the room. The navy blue stained glass exploded against the opposing force of his wall, finally expressing my grief over something so stupid. Glittering shards of glass quickly shattered into sand-like pieces, sprinkling like snow onto his carpet. At that moment, I didn't care if I was the one who was responsible for cleaning up the chaotic mess in his room or not, or lending money to Mr. Daniel for fixing the absurdly large dent in his wooden wall. All I cared about was that nothing I could break and nothing I could ever say would make Reese genuinely like me.

But that was okay. Julian had him I guess, and they were so undeniably in love that anyone around could've seen it. It was something I would never have, according to Reese once (thanks, asshat).

What, you think I'm so fucking despicable and would break them up just to benefit me and my sorry ass? Ha, you're pathetic for even assuming.

My limbs felt sluggish as did my eyelids when they drooped in a mirror of how one would appear when fatigued. Though I wasn't. I was wide awake but that didn't mean I was fully there. I sat up and lazily crawled my way off of the pillow I was perched on, and watched through my freakishly blonde hair as my pale hands began gripping onto his mattress for support. My knees shook when my attempt at standing up was unsuccessful, and I fell back onto my side with my face smashed against the carpet, dragging down all of his pillows and blankets with me.