Smile

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"Smile." I look at the boy next to me in question. "What do you mean?" He sits up on the grass. Now that it has become lighter out I can see him clearer now then before. "I want you to smile. I've only known you for about three hours and I can tell you don't smile often." I grin as I hear this from the small boy. He actually paid attention to me. That doesn't happen anymore, not ever. "Thank you." He simply says before laying back down a little closer to me than last time. I don't mind though. Not at all. Its a little chilly so him being closer is keeping me bit warmer. Well that's my excuse for as to why I'm letting him be that close. Although it's not like there is anyone around to ask why. "How old are you angel?"

Beautiful Thing - Larry Stylinson AUWhere stories live. Discover now