Chapter 2

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Tyler's POV
*Warning! This chapter includes homophobia and abuse*
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When I saw his face I felt as if I was being stabbed by hundreds of knives, each second felt worse as they cut my old scars, opening them once more causing the memories to bleed out. I wish I could have just punched him right there but I couldn't. Even though he caused me so pain I couldn't bring myself to hurt him.

"I'll get the charger later." I spat out the words and I turned around, I walked as fast as I possibly could without looking like a weirdo. I didn't even need that fucking charger, I just wanted to get away from my 'beloved father' and have some proper human interaction.

I walked closer to my house. I hated it. Don't get me wrong, it is a beautiful white building surrounded by magnificent ruby red flowers yet every time I see it, I  just want to cry and run away. All the horrible memorise that surround this glorious building are enough for me to want to scream until I can't breath anymore, to drown in the sea of pain, to be gone forever, to finally be free.

I'm not going back in there to my abusive father. Not yet anyway.

I walked to my favourite place to hide away from everything. I followed the dirt path into the area surrounded by tall and leafy trees. Inside of the circle of trees was an old worn out bench with tens of initials carved into it. This place was my home away from home.

Slowly I sat down on the bench. Staring into the navy blue sky I started to think.
'Why is he here?'
'Why did he come back?'
'Why couldn't he just fucking go back to that stupid America he loves so much!?'
And with that I felt the hot tears pour down my cheeks. I wasn't going to hold it in anyway, so just seconds later I started bawling my eyes out. Breathing was becoming harder as a lump formed in my throat.

A sudden rustling noise came from behind me.
'It's probably just the wind or something' I though relaxing in my seat again. Then a little sneeze came from the trees.

"Whoever you are could you please leave me alone?" I turned around to see a thin figure standing just behind me.

"Tyler," He started and walked to stand in front of me. I looked away from him not wanting to see him again.
"Tylah...." Fuck his accent is hot. Wait what? Did I really just think of that!?

"What." I hissed at him looking up at him. He looked at the empty space next to me and I just nodded. His body radiated heat as he sat beside me.

"I just wanted to talk," his voice was quite as he brought his hand to his messy hair.

"Then talk but don't expect me to reply." I spat out harshly crossing my arms over my chest.

"Umm, okay..." We just sat there in silence.
"Look," Troye turned his body around to face me.
"Why are you acting like you hate me?" Was that a joke? Did he really just ask that!?

"I don't know, maybe because the last time we saw each other you were acting like a fucking dick!?" This time I turned to face him. My eyes locked with his blue ones and I could see a hint of pain in them. Serves him right.

"Wha-what do you mean?" He really didn't know did he?

"The month leading to your eighteenth birthday was one of the worst things I have been through." I turned away again.
"One day we're best friends joking around and the next day you act like I'm your enemy." Just at the thought of that day I felt tears building up in my eyes.

"Ty?" He reached out and put his hand on my shoulder. I flinched at the sudden contact and I felt pain as he pressed harder against a bruise that was left earlier by father. He must have realised I didn't like the contact as he moved his hand away.

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