𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲: waltzing

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irl !

Was this what it felt like to fucking die? Those were the words running through Y/n's head as the ice-cold water enveloped him. He forced down the urge to inhale, seeing as that would probably make him drown. Or throw up because of all the shit that was in the water. The British sea was not to mess with.

He resurfaced, gasping for air, inhaling sharply and desperately, as if he had just run a marathon. Being frozen to death by chilly waters was close enough to it. Fuck the British, and fuck their dirty ocean, and fuck the cold, and fuck everything that was the earth. Why did he even get in, to begin with? Y/n ransacked his mind but found no other reason than he had wanted to. He had wanted to let the water take away all of his senses, completely numbing him. Why?

The reason any irresponsible teen ever did anything stupid and reckless, is influence. Influence, of friends, of drugs, of alcohol, of nicotine, it made you feel invincible, it made you feel brave. It got people in trouble all the time, and this time, it got Y/n shivering to his bones, it got his teeth clattering.

"Why did you do that?" Asked Tommy, snorting with laughter. He didn't look as worried as Y/n felt. The pebbled beneath his feet felt like blocks of ice, yet they were smooth without being slippery.

Though his worry could be because he was so fucking cold, however, he was mostly confused and a little bit surprised still that he had decided to go for a swim and actually followed through with that plan. He shrugged slowly.

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