My Blood: joshler

Chapter Three: Tyler // just had bad luck.

Chapter Three: Third Person POV

Tyler:

The paint scared him, yet, drew him in at the same time.

He felt her, touching his hands and telling him to hold her, to mold her, and to kiss her beautiful with the power of his colours. And he was okay with that.

He was okay with her temptations, the girl in the canvas. He wanted to kiss her, he wanted to hold her and he wanted to throw her in the air, knowing that she trusted him enough to catch her.

He wanted to be believed in. He wanted her to believe in him.

The skies above her head, her beautiful yellow sundress and faded brown sandals. Her eyes of gold and honey and her hands pointed directly at him. Her golden hair, swaying in the unfelt wind, with beautiful strands entering her eyes.

Tyler thought she was beautiful and he didn't believe she was just swirls of paint, he believed she was a beautiful creation, not by him but by the souls of ever living artists that lived in him.

If you ever asked him who created the masterpieces he had hung all over his room, he'd say his friends. Tyler believed he had no artistic skill. He believed he was blessed with beings in him that painted for him.

It was a stupid belief, though he'd never admit it, but Tyler never believed in himself so even if he painted the most beautiful masterpiece, he would take no credit of it.

That was just Tyler Joseph.

Well, until he met Josh.

If someone had asked him, he would have said he wasn't crying, just letting off some steam.

And of course they would believe him. They wouldn't pry, but he didn't know if he wanted them to pry. However, just the thought of them not trying enough, hurt him.

His words had always contradicted his actions. Whenever he cried, he said he was okay. Whenever he was hurt, he said he was fine. He'd been labelled the good, caring one.

Apparently, he was caring because he never told people his problems but allowed them to dump theirs on him. He was caring because he was an introvert.

Tyler was on the way to the grocery store, which was way on the other side of town and he couldn't help but lament about how miserable his life was.

For one, he didn't have any friends - real friends, that is and for another, he forgot his coat.

It wasn't like he was stupid, he'd just been rushed out by his dad because apparently, he needed to cook - his fiance was coming for dinner, again. Tyler had never spoken to the woman, mostly because he'd made it his job to stay out of the house whenever she visited, but he'd seen her once.

She was beautiful, with a short blonde fringe that made her look a lot more younger than people her age.

Tyler could understand why his father would want a new wife, since Tyler's real mom divorced him six years ago, and left with Tyler's little brother, Max.

Tyler could feel the ever growing feeling of loneliness gnawing at his father with every sad sigh he took. He knew the pain his father felt when he saw the longing eyes he made at other happy couples, so Tyler couldn't really blame him. Besides, the man had to move on at some point.

Tyler just couldn't see why he had to do the shopping for food. His father had told him numerous times that he had to set up the house for his fiance but he couldn't help but grumble when he was being pushed out of the house in nothing but a thin white tee, skinny black jeans and black ankle boots. So much for warmth.

Tyler liked his house, mostly because he felt the warm walls actually accepted him and was the only place he could feel safe, and because he hated the outside world. At least inside, he could live in bubble of faux happiness and comfort with just him and his paint brushes, whereas the outside world consisted of busy cars and actual people, not pieces of paintings.

If only he could turn the world into paint.

These thoughts were the ones that filled Tyler's head, making him slow his pace, in order to keep up with his head. It was only when he checked his phone that he realized he might miss the four pm train if he didn't hurry and so, began a running Tyler.

He whisked past people, muttering apologies, shoving at them. The trains doors had almost closed when he'd reached, so he yelled at the top of his voice, "Hold it"although, it sounded like a whisper because of the wind.

Luckily, a good fellow held the doors for a little while, enough for him to jump in.

"Thank you"he whispered, getting replied with a nod.

Tyler's eyes scanned the entire train for a place to sit, or even stand and he was close to finding none, until he saw one next to a very good looking boy at the last seat. He blushed, realising he was going to be sitting next to someone that handsome for the next ten minutes and so he made his way over, trying not to hold eye contact.

For a tall boy with no flesh to him, he was doing okay. That's was until his feet hit metal and he was sent flying into the boys arms.

Talk about embarrassment.

Tyler immediately scrambled to his feet, muttering his apologies and sitting next to the boy.

The boy didn't say anything, looking forward as if Tyler wasn't there. It was then Tyler noticed the numerous tattoos that littered the boys wrist, upwards. He was wearing a coat, so obviously the rest of his body was covered but Tyler couldn't help but admire the tattoos he saw on the boy, knowing they symbolised something. They were also beautiful.

The boy looked uncomfortable under Tyler's gaze so the younger lad looked away, trying not to be impolite.

The windows of the trains were rolled down and they moved at such a speed that the air that blew through them, had Tyler shivering.

At a particular point, the boy raised his hands slowly, as if trying to touch Tyler but he quickly retracted and shook his head. And that was the only type of communication Tyler got from the beautiful boy.

He just had bad luck.

|| - //

Super excited x