saving mitch ↠ scömìche

• prologue •

everyone has their nightmares,
even me, my dear.
Pentatonix | Light In The Hallway

Scott Hoying's POV

I admired the nature and the nearby bridge. It's all so beautiful and I'm glad to live in this new town. Los Angeles. It's very pretty, but warm. Very warm here.

I took pictures of some animals. This spot was famous for its beauty and I understand why. It's stunning. I looked at the pine trees and the flowers, noticing both were dying and I frowned. It wasn't winter, but it was becoming to come close. It's slightly cold at night here, I've noticed. Not much but enough to where you're wanting to wear something to cover your arms. Although it's more windy than 'cold', it still gets to the point where you probably want to wear a long–sleeved shirt, like I mentioned before.

I looked at the bridge and noticed a man there, but I didn't take much notice to him. Even though he was very, very attractive from what I could see of him, I wanted to not be creepy so I took my focus to the nature. Or rather, tried to.

My gaze was on the small brunet, leaning on the edge of the bridge, looking at the lake. He was wearing black and grey clothing; skinny jeans, platforms and a grey hoodie. His small frame was surprisingly adorable to me. I've seen plenty of small men but I didn't think any of them were attractive. I always thought more muscular and bigger–than–him men were hot. But I don't see him that way; more of as a cuddly kitten that I'd never want to see go away.

So when I saw that he was crying, I became worried and I wanted to walk up to him and ask the man why he was crying, why his cheeks were puffy and why his eyes were red. Why he seemed so depressed. But I couldn't, in fear of him thinking I was creepy. And I didn't want this man to think I was creepy, because if I were to meet him again, I'd try my best to act as non–creepy as possible.

I kept my attention to the nature again, even though I wanted to very badly speak to that man; to comfort him.

But I couldn't.

I glanced at him one last time when he did the unexpected.

He began to stand on the edge.

The bridge was high up, very high up. I gasped when he looked down. So I did what my instincts led me to; I ran as fast as I could to the man.

As soon as I got to him, I pulled him down by his wrists (he was short) and he gasped as I did. Once he fell, he didn't fall onto the pavement, he fell into my arms. He looked at me and I stared into his chocolate brown eyes and he stared into my icy blue ones.

"Why didn't you let me fall?" The man whispered.

I looked to him as if he were crazy, "How could I?"

The man laughed humorlessly and shook his head, "Don't you know who I am?"

I raised an eyebrow, so he assumed I didn't. "I'm the guy everyone makes fun of," the small man answered barely audibly.

I widened my eyes slightly, and before I could say anything, he spoke, "You shouldn't be seen around me. They'll assume you're a friend and hate you too. I'm the faggot around here. For your own safety, I suggest you leave me alone and let me die."

I took an intake of breath, "I'm not letting a man like you die," I said.

"Why not? I'm pathetic," he stated. "Because despite what those people say about you, I will always think differently, even if I just met you. I'm not letting anyone else's opinion affect the way I think of you. It's my opinion, not theirs," I said.

He laughed humorlessly again, "Good luck living in LA then. Can you put me down?" I nodded when he asked and did so.

"Mitch Grassi," he said and took out his hand. I shook it, "Scott Hoying."

"You're going to regret trying to talk to me. Something bad will happen, and trust me, you don't want that to happen, and it will if you're near me. So when you see me again, for your own safety, I highly recommend you leave me alone. I don't care if I'm dying. Leave me alone."

I sighed, "I don't care if they do something horrible to me. You're a great man and shouldn't be put down for what other horrible humans think."

Mitch scoffed, "You just met me. You don't know who I am. What I am."

I looked down at Mitch, "I have noticed you enough to say that you're no where near the things those people say about you."

Mitch looked up at me, "Say that in a day and maybe I'll believe you."

***

a/n;; Scömìche. this is my first time writing a gay fanfic.

wow. yes, this is an extremely short prologue.

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