*Featured on Wattpad Urban Fantasy and Stories Undiscovered profiles*
"Alcohol, Cigarettes, and Sex won't get rid of the bitterness in your life."
"Sugar," he loved the way her skin throbbed beneath his touch. "How else would my life be sweet?"
A hu...
Lance tried to relish the roaring wind that twirled his hair all over the side of his face. Well, not until one of his dark brown locks got into his right eye. He sighed annoyingly and tucked his hair behind his ears, disrupting the dance party. He glanced briefly at Mr Oliver who nodded his head slowly to the country song that blasted loudly through the car stereo system and his little frown turned deeper. He would have done anything he could to avoid this journey but what was the point when they were already halfway across Scotland. Plus, he had no one he could run to.
He turned his head towards the wing mirror of his seat when Mr Oliver caught his eyes on him and observed his dull blue hazel eyes and his pink lips stretched in a thin line. Those were the only attributes that reminded him of his mother. The rest, he got no idea.
"You still haven't mentioned what happened to your hand." Mr Oliver brought up the topic again, his eyes glued to the free road.
Lance gritted his teeth in frustration and hid his left knuckles under his shirt. He was still staring at the wing mirror.
"I told you it was nothing serious. I bumped my hand on the door," he flexed the back of his fingers in front of Mr Oliver, showing him his bruised knuckles. "It doesn't even hurt."
"This sure doesn't look like a bump bruise. It looks more of a glass smashing bruise," Mr Oliver revealed and Lance snorted. He didn't reply to his discovery. He still kept his eyes on his reflection. "I'm just looking out for you Lance. You're starting a new life and I won't be there-"
"I'll be fine." Lance interrupted, clearly not in the mood to talk about his supposed grandparents. Instead, he relaxed his head on the head restraint of his car seat and shut his eyes so he would give off the 'I'm not interested in whatever you're saying' vibe.
Mr Oliver on the other hand ran his left hand through his hair while his right hand controlled the wheel. He was worried for Lance. It sure wasn't going to be easy for him to live with people who had no idea of what he passed through. It wasn't going to be easy for them to keep up with his behavior either. Deep down, he also felt a pang of loneliness beginning to set in. He was going to be alone again. There was no one to call son anymore. His wife and son had died due to an airplane crash years before he was moved to where Lance lived.
Lance had noticed that the car wasn't in motion anymore and peered his eyes open. He blinked off the bits of drowsiness in his eyes and sat up, using the sleeves of his long sleeved shirt to wipe of the sweat that trailed down his eyebrows. Turning his head towards the right, his lips turned down at the sight of the old couple that stood in front of a house with a dark red roof, beige walls and red framed windows.
