In a Friday evening when the sun was just setting, disappearing between all the buildings, there was a boy all bundled up in a few blankets. It appears the night has been getting colder, wasn't the time of underwear and freshly made marks on his skin anymore. He was seated on a balcony on the highest level, legs dangling off the edge. He loved the fact that he could see everyone and everything but no one noticed him, made him feel powerful, free, space out. Maybe he wasn't the same person everyone wishes him to be, told him it was better to be like that, shaped him into their own fantasies only to get rid of him after. Maybe his past didn't matter anymore. While he was full of wonder he felt another presence right behind him, a hand pressed against his cheek. Ah, it was him. Him, who made him feel like he could fly and dream and hope and be 𝒉𝒊𝒎𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇. Maybe he didn't need to worry about anything when he was around. Maybe he was home.
𝐊𝐘𝐎𝐊𝐎 𝐏𝐘𝐎𝐓𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐎.
99'S ART PIECE. FAMOUS ARTIST AND VOLUNTEER IN ANIMAL SHELTERS IN HIS FREE TIME. UNAVAILABLE. FUNNY ANTI SOCIAL. NAIL POLISH AND MAN BUNS. OCEAN BLUE EYES AND TATTOOS. DEEPLY IN LOVE WITH HIS SOULMATE. CAT HYBRID. PROBABLY RIDING HIS BOYFRIEND'S DICK AS WE SPEAK. EX STRIPPER. COMES FROM A RICH FAMILY. LISTENS TO 2000 SONGS UNIRONICALLY.