funeral boy

the wilting flower

uh

this chapter is a little weird but enjoy

im posting this early (literally, it is 12:37 am) in celebration for me finishing this goddamn book! i'm editing now, and everything is in drafts but man i really did well with this one.

i've never finished a book on here for real, with like, a good plot and everything. so i'm proud of myself yay

ok continue reading

GRACIE AND SHAWN ARE UP TOP BTW

"So?"

"So, what?"

"How was it?"

"It was. . . interesting."

"What does that mean?"

"I just don't have anything to compare it to, that's all."

"Well what about when you jack off? Was it better than that?"

"Ew, Gracie! Gross!" I laughed. "It was nice. You were. . . nice."

We were sitting at our favorite restaurant for breakfast on a Saturday the morning after we had sex. "It's not supposed to be nice- it's supposed to be sexy, steamy- the highlight of your year." Shawn looked down at his breakfast and paused his actions. I could clearly the blush rising on his cheeks which he was so quick to cover. He shifted in his seat nervously.

"Can we not talk about this here?" Shawn's voice was barely a whisper as he glanced across the restaurant. I followed his eyes to a table of teenagers I recognized from school.

"Why can't we?" I let out a nervous chuckle.

"I don't know. You're you, I'm me, we- you know. I just don't want to embarrass you." It was then I looked him dead in the eye and shook my head.

"Hey! Don't you ever think that. I will never be embarrassed by you." Shawn was silent as he began eating his breakfast again. I stayed frozen in place, waiting for Shawn to meet my eyes so I could assure him I was telling the truth. "I will never be embarrassed by you, ever."

And we ate in silence. The air had changed from the conversation's sour turn. It felt odd sitting with Shawn and not talking about anything at all. It was absolutely awful to have to sit there knowing Shawn was only feeding his mind with self conscious thoughts. "Now about that killer dick of yours."

I had never, in the whole nine years I'd known Shawn, seen him as red as he was in that moment. He covered his face with his hands and said: "Gracie, don't."

"Why not? It's the biggest I've seen!" I laughed at his nervousness. "You should try for the Guinness world of records." I joked, cracking him a smile. Shawn's face was scrunched up humiliation. I could hear his breathing beginning to quicken and my lips reverted back into a thin line.

I always loved teasing him. I just never knew it would get this far.

"Hey, are you okay?" My eyes danced over Shawn's face, which seemed to drain of color as he struggled for the right words to say. His eyes fluttered shut as he raised a shaky finger in the air.

"I-I need air- I need air." And then he stood from his seat in our booth and staggered toward the men's washroom. It wasn't long until I was on my feet too, following him closely to the washroom until we got separated by the large door. I waited outside until I started to hear Shawn's irregular breathing from inside the washroom. At that point I could've cared less about the gender qualification.

When I pushed the door open I saw a teenager using the nearby urinal, causing me to scrunch up my face and look away. I knocked on every stall there was in there, whilst the pissing teen repeatedly yelled: "There's a girl in here!"

Shawn wasn't in any of the stalls. Instead, I found him behind the last one, near the window all the way in the back. He was sitting on the floor with trembling hands and fearful eyes. I recognized everything that was happening. I knew what to do- I guess I had my mother to thank for that. I got on my knees and grabbed his hands, holding our stare.

"Y-You're having an anxiety attack, okay? B-Breathe in," Shawn did as I said, though he struggled immensely, "breathe out." We continued this until eventually he stopped hyperventilating. Those ten minutes were one of the most dreadful experiences of my life.

My mother was someone I could deal with seeing in that position. Shawn was a whole other story. He was so fragile, like the flowers his mother used to plant in his back garden, the ones cherry red that wilted too fast. Shawn was the cherry red flower, it was when he laid in my lap, our fingers intertwined and my arms around him, that I knew he would wilt too fast.

last paragraph is my favorite text oh goodness

i feel like i'm the only one who ships gracie and shawn really hard like almost as much as sharden

IM JOKING I LOVE SHARDEN TOO MUCH OK PEACE HOMIES