an island full of secrets that looks so pretty from afar, but you set foot onto it and your faced with the reality. it holds the damaged, the broken, the broke, the drugged, the rich, the greedy, the creative, the lustful, the forbidden, the denied...
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"Sometimes all you need is a drunken confession" ----------------------------------------------------------------
He was tall. He was brooding. He definitely was not simple. He was a complex boy, he could not tell you the time of day without that crazed look he had that somehow came so naturally to him.
And the boy's name is Blake Andrews.
Blake is broke, he's traumatized, maybe even heartless. He had always learned things the hard way, things had never been easy for him and it was the same on the inside of his life too. He had always had it hard, always.
He had never gotten the good, he had only gotten the ruin. He had gotten those blazing fires and those threatening stares. With the abusive sperm donor and that whore if you could even call the woman that. He didn't have a family, except for her. He had been adopted into a lifestyle and he didn't want it to end except for when the unspeakable happened and then he was no longer safe there.
When he was hurt and ashamed, yet only Tyler knew the truth about it.
Only she could ever know the truth. Right? Unless he would tell Tavia.
She was the only person who got it, not fully but she got it.
She was his safe place till the end.
"Blake" His name fell off her lips like it was poetry and he looked at her as the sun was now high. The sunrise long gone.
"Tyler" Her name fell off his lips, it rolled off the tongue like something from the novels. It was like when that one character says a name so perfectly and then you can't help but wonder what other things could just be said ever so right.
"How are you today Andrews?" The question sounded so forbidden to his ears, like it was something so new, though she had asked it before. The question still felt like it was something out of those words from the fictional societies. He did not know how to answer that question because it was as if he couldn't answer it.
"I hate talking about that shit, you know this" His words were not cold nor were they harsh, the boy just couldn't find his mood. He wasn't sad yet he wasn't happy either. He wasn't angry but he wasn't just plain good. His voice sounded monotone practically.
"I know Blake, but you need to" She sounded like herself, she sounded much happier than he was by far. She wouldn't allow herself to sit back and watch him suffer in the silence. She wouldn't let him revel in the peace that it didn't seem to bring him.
