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❝ girl you know you make my cold heart warm with a touch,} one kiss then we fuckin, i just can't get enough put it on me, that's the best part baby the trust trust me i got nothing for you other than love. ❞
***
𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧'𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐯.
for a spring night, it was awfully cold.
in other words, his boyfriend's hoodie, despite it's size was not enough to keep him warm as he trudged down the sidewalk of the loud city. every bump in the sidewalk was one that interfered with the wheels of the suitcase that he carried behind him, bumping with every single one. the area he had managed to walk to in just one day wasn't one that he should've been in- not at night, not with tears dried to his face and definitely not so aimlessly. to say he cared, however, would not be very accurate; just like the cold wind blowing through his curls, he was numb.
the only thing he could do was be thankful that the hoodie he wore still had his scent. the smell of lavender and washing powder was the only thing that had stopped the boy from walking into traffic, but when the smell began to fade away he was sure it would be quite easy seeing that the last of his will had been already drained from him. of course, it was his fault.
right?
he was the one who had left the only boy who had ever provided any sense of love for him, but who in their right mind would love a boy covered in scars who was only good for his body- and not even that, considering that it wasn't worth much anymore? indigo wondered just how much; after all, what else was there to lose? whoring himself out was the only thing he could see if he did decide to keep the breath coursing through his lungs; but then again, he'd have to think about even that first.
he'd do that later. for now, all he did was walk- away from the boy who's smile plagued his thoughts so heavily he wished he could just forget but he couldn't- he couldn't and it hurt him so bad, silent sobs escaping his lips and with every single tear the life seemed to drain from his soul. the pain was manic; worse than the one that night that man had decided to beat him to a pulp. no. this one was much more grueling, making it hard for indigo to walk each time he lended a thought to how hurt he knew jae would be but what was there to be said?
that's who indigo soriano was; a good for-nothing drug addict who used others.
just like his mama.
the seventeen year old barely recognized himself as he sunk to his knees, kneeling in the middle of the sidewalk as a sob heaved from his chest that felt as if it was going to explode. not even grabbing it with his shaking hands stopped it from feeling as if had been punctured; as if the pain he could feel had replaced his blood, running through his veins until they were about to burst. tears ran down his face as easily as the rain poured from the heavens, but unlike the peaceful storm his sorrowful whispers were nothing but tormented.
