ʏᴏᴜ sᴀᴠᴇ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ,
ʙᴜᴛ ᴡʜᴏ sᴀᴠᴇs ʏᴏᴜ?𝑷𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: 𝑩𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒆 - 𝑫𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒅 𝑮𝒖𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒂, 𝑩𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒌𝒔, 𝑳𝒐𝒐𝒕𝒆
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His hands combed the tumble of wavy locks of hair that fell just above both sides of his jaw as he stared at himself on his broken mirror. Particularly, his dull blue eyes that reminded him of...
"Not tonight Lance." he chastised himself and sighed helplessly as his mother's face flashed in his mind. Why couldn't he forget her? He was so young when she died, her death was not supposed to haunt him. But still, he witnessed everything that happened. The wolf charging towards them, towards him.
His fist clenched tightly as he fought the urge to finally condemn the mirror. Then he sighed again and closed his eyes. The last thing he needed was to show up at her party with a bloody knuckle.
"Lance! You're needed outside!" he heard his grandmother yell and he hurriedly tied up his sneakers and attended to the last button of his black button up shirt.
His phone rang and he turned the call off immediately when he checked the caller's ID. Not tonight too. Not like he ever picked Mr Oliver's calls.
"Where are you going?" his grandfather asked and he rolled his eyes and placed his phone into his ripped jeans pocket.
"A party. I won't be back late." he didn't miss the surprised smile his grandmother had on her face. His face scrunched up when his grandfather opened his mouth to speak but he was grateful she beat him to it.
"Be back by 12." she smiled and he nodded awkwardly.
"Thanks." he got out of the door and squinted his eyes to observe the Ford through the beam lamp that shoned really bright. Then he got closer to the car and got into the backseat when he noticed the Asian girl was sitting at the front next to Sugar. He was surprised she could drive.
"Hi." she greeted softly and he gave her a small smile when she turned to smile at him. He ignored the same flip flops that occurred yesterday when he noticed how pretty she looked with her hair straight.
She turned to drive away and Lance choked when he noticed she added red streaks to her hair. He gripped his jean tight when a picture of his mother's hair coated in blood appeared in his mind. He breathed as if no air would ever be enough. He felt like he was drowning, like he was trying to keep his head above water when the tide came crashing hard.
YOU ARE READING
The Art Of Being Lance|√
Werewolf*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...