Trigger Warning: there will be very sensitive content in this story in future chapters in the form of flashbacks.
For Reid Thompson, being popular was the only thing he had going for him. If you asked his friends, they'd tell you that he wasn'...
"What happened to you?" Reid whispered, staring down at the slightly younger boy. His heart was racing, and his eyes stung at the thoughts running through his head—of the worst-case-scenarios playing out in his mind. It was a loop, constant and unstoppable because the boy who he'd come to have feelings for was now staring up at him with the most broken look in his eyes.
When he first met Lance, he knew the milk-chocolate headed boy was different from everyone else he'd known. Everyone expected him to keep a façade—to pretend so that he didn't inconvenience parents who already had a lot going on—to fake a laugh and smile so he didn't let his teammates down by showing a weakness none of them knew he had—to shrug off comments and go to parties that he was invited to so he didn't seem like the lonely guy he truly was inside.
But Lance... Lance didn't care about any of that. He didn't even see any of it. He just saw Reid. Not the captain of the football team. Not an important part of the soccer team. Not someone the basketball team counted on. Not even the insane beast he turned into on the weekends when he dabbled in MMA training for fun.
But now, Reid wanted to see Lance. He'd caught glimpses that the boy had allowed him to see. He'd seen parts that Lance hadn't been ready to share. But he wanted the whole picture—he wanted the ugly and the beautiful, the tragic and the happy. He didn't care what it was, just that it brought him to their small town; to him.
Lance glanced down at his stomach, eyes catching every little pink, jagged scar. His fingers slipped onto his own stomach, feeling the raised skin every few inches and knowing there was even more under his jeans. He let his eyes travel to the rubbery, raised flesh on his left forearm, wincing as if feeling the pain of the flame all over again.
His innocent brown eyes found Reid's once he looked up and he swallowed past the lump in his throat once he saw the emotion in his beautiful green orbs.
Nodding, Lance licked his lips. And then he did something Reid wasn't prepared for.
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Hello and welcome!
I hope you enjoy this story-- I'm super excited to be going on this journey with Reid and Lance because they are parts of myself and I feel like I'm bringing something good to life.
Please feel free to comment all you like; they're a big inspiration and let me know if I'm doing something wrong or right.
Also, to any grammar nazi's, feel free to comment on mistakes but please don't be rude about it. What I post is a rough draft that is only quickly looked over for mistakes before I put it up.
I'm also happy to receive constructive criticism as well!
One more thing-- this shouldn't have to be said but sadly these days plagiarism is a huge thing: PLEASE DO NOT TAKE MY STORY. Create your own-- stealing someone else's ideas does nothing for you if you actually want to be a writer; it only hurts you in the long run. I'm sure you have some amazing ideas in your head that you can bring to light. If you want to take some inspiration from this, please feel free and go for it. But I will not take kindly to someone stealing my work for what it is. I'm not an amazing writer, I'm not a professional. I've been writing for years and been learning to get better and better with each story I write. That's the only way to get better.
This story might not even go anywhere-- I might get no reads and no recognition but that's okay because at least I'm still putting something of my own out there and getting better for it.
Anyway, that was super long haha, sorry! Please enjoy and thank you so much if you've decided to give my story a try.
Quick Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
