𝐓𝗼𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 | 𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐜𝐞 ✔︎

• Cᴀɴᴛ sᴍɪʟᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ •

|ᴄᴀɴᴛ sᴍɪʟᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ - sʟᴇᴇᴘɪɴɢ ᴀᴛ ʟᴀsᴛ |
____________________________________

He strolled down the street slowly, pace delayed and stiff as he stared intensely at the phone. His thumbs hovering hesitantly over the cracked screen stuff showed nothing but his unanswered messages.

His mind had suddenly came to the abrupt conclusion that spamming pathetic messages a few days ago was the sensible decision. How he diluted himself with such an unrealistic fantasy in the first place was beyond his own knowledge. What did he expect, that George would come running back into his arms after a desperate, depressing message? He knew that it was a high risk, and certainly one with very low outcomes.

And right now, as he stared at the screen, he was already feeling the painful repercussions. The embarrassment was flushing his cheeks, taking control of their natural shade and amplifying it ten times over. Of course George ignored him, what else would he expect?

George,
I'm sorry. I'm really fucking sorry. But I know that's not enough, and that I'll never be enough for you. Because you, George Smith, are the most beautiful soul on this earth. And me, I'm the most broken. Forgive me someday, that's all I can ever ask x

He took a deep breath, sucking in as much grungy city air that he could hold before closing his eyes, leaving his thumb to either press send, or miss.

He didn't miss.

The bing rang echoed through his ears, alerting his senses that he had actually had the audacity to go through with it. He sent the message, letters dripping in despair that George would surely frown upon. It was times like these when his mind was really open to how pitiful he was, and he couldn't reject the characteristic no matter how much he wanted to.

He used to be colder, more ampathetic than he was used to now. He used to be someone his father would approve of, someone he would be proud to call his son. Now, well now he has ripped apart that facade. Shredded it to pieces, leaving no evidence that his previous persona ever existed. That though should scare him, frighten him so much so that he feels obliged to go back to his old ways.

But no, it did the opposite. It made him...proud. He was softer now, he understood how his reckless actions would have a drastic impact on another's life, one he didn't want to leave. He knew what it felt like to be nice and smile at strangers on the street.

But most importantly, he felt happy. For the first time since his mind can run back, he felt happy in who he was and who he rotated his life surrounded by.

This huge change in his previous nature, it was all down to one person. He owe that person everything he had, all the love he had stored away for him was sitting beating in his broken heart, screaming to be let out. Reece wasn't completely oblivious. He knew, had known for quite a while.

George wasn't a friend. Because friends, they don't make you feel like how he does. They don't smile at you innocently and suddenly the whole zoo is going bezerk in his stomach. His mind like a dam, one look in George's direction and it simply burst, washing away any thoughts he had previously held.

But he liked that. It meant one thing to him, something that calms his nerves and eased his racing thoughts. He was a blank canvas when George was around, ready to paint the person he was meant to be. No violence, no knives, and certainly no daunting expectations that steered his future. He could just be him.

Suddenly his phone went off and his hopes skyrocketed, pulse beating in his ears as he stared at the screen which was now displaying a call. His eyes took a few seconds to conjoin the letters to make a contact, and his heart had never dropped so fast.