letters

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four things:
1. i'm on my phone, so no capitals
2. this is really short since i don't have a lot of time but would like to publish something
3. this will be different than typical the oneshots.                                                                                         4. Trigger warning: homophobia and abuse 

dear boris,
i'm leaving this morning as my dad is taking xandra and i on some business expedition... thing. to be honest, i'm not entirely sure. all i know is that i've wanted to tell you this for the longest time, and i don't think i could wait the three days that i'll be gone to say it. so,  by the time you read this, i'll be gone.

i'll start off by saying this: you are the best friend i've ever had, so if anything in here affects our friendship, then i'm sorry. i'm sorry to you and i'm sorry to my future self too.

but boris, i love being your friend, i love being your friend almost as much as i love you. i've never loved someone like i love you that wasn't family. but boris, you might as well be family, yeah? you're here all time (i'm not complaining, though).

and before you get the wrong idea, i don't mean as a friend, okay? i think you understand me, and i you, more than anyone else ever will. sure, maybe i'm wrong, but how could we ever know without trial and error? you know, the chances of us meeting were so unbelievably microscopic (my dad moves to vegas, your family moves to vegas in the same neighbourhood my mom dies in the museum, we are put in the same class at school, etc, etc) that i can't think of any other explanation besides- we were meant to meet. maybe we're not meant to be together like how i'm suggesting, but what's the point in not even considering it?

so, boris, i hope you understand what i mean, yes? i'll see you in three and a half days. if you don't have a response by then, that's okay; we'll talk together.

love,
theo

theo groggily jogged you boris's house; it had been a rare night where the other boy slept in his own bedroom. by the light of the rising sun, theo slipped his letter, wrapped in a crisply addressed envelope, under boris's door.

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Mr. Pavlikovsky rose from his drunken haze to wake his son for school, unaware that Boris seldom bothered to show up anymore. Moreover, it was past noon, much too late anyway. He opened the door to reveal his son, passed out, and a plain letter, simply addressed to "Boris." Well, well, well... what do we have here?

Mr. Pavlikovsky teared the envelope open, not caring to preserve the actual writing inside. Surprisingly, though, it was unharmed. His eyes scoured the words; he didn't know quite enough English to make complete sense of Theo's scrawly writing, but he knew enough. 

"Boris!" he roared . Boris, startled, awoke with wide eyes.

"What, what is the problem?" he asked, not calm exactly, but knowing not to show his dad was scared. He was like a dog in that way; fear provoked him. 

"This, this letter, love letter, might I add!" he rumbled, shoving the thing in Boris's face, who hadn't yet seen it. He quickly scanned it, mixed emotions tumbling inside of him. 

"I- I didn't know about this, I swear-" but his dad cut him off.

"This is ridiculous, no longer can you go to this, this homosexual's house. What an abomination," he said, shaking his head. 

"But-" he was cut off again. 

"And you..." Mr. Pavlikovsky growled. "How have you let this happen? I raised you right." At the same time, he raised a hand and struck Boris across the face.

"No, n-" Boris was shoved into the wall, kicked across the knees, and finally left alone.

"This won't happen again, yes?" Boris's dad said, more of a statement than a question. 

After he slammed the door on him, Boris flipped him off. 

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