silly little gw fic :))

this is the only chapter thingy... idk how to split up stuff

6:48 AM, Monday .[Your House - Skate Park]

You wake up startled to a thundering yell coming from downstairs. It's your bitchass mom. She's straining her throat to yell up at you once again. You can tell from the slurring in her speech and the raspiness in her voice that she's being sitting up all night, smoking, drinking, watching TV. Nothing out of the norm for you at this point, but it still never ceases to get on your nerves. "I'M COoMMINNGgg" You screech, your voice cracking because of the lack of sleep. Maybe if she would just turn the TV down once in a while you could get some fucking shut-eye. Either way, you groan as you get up from your bed to get ready. You take your hair down in the mirror, brush your hair, your teeth, make sure your eye bags are completely invisible, etc. Afterwards, you go back into your room to get dressed. You throw on a hoodie, your favorite one,(it's pretty much the only one that doesn't always smell like tobacco somehow. It's nice.) along with a pair of jeans that are just a few sizes too big. It doesn't necessarily bother you, it's just that it really can't be that hard for your mom to remember what size pants you wear, surely. You rush down the stairs, as to avoid being yelled at more than you could bear. You feel especially frustrated this morning, for some reason. Maybe you just have some kind of bad cold, because you're just really tense and hot and you are not feeling very great. Once you get downstairs, you grab a bowl of cereal and rush out the door before your mom can scream at you to go to school. You won't even go anyway, it's not like she cares, or like you have any friends anyways. You walk over to the skate park, God, it's so annoying how you have to leave your board over there. At least your mom can't get to it that way. Once you get there, you notice that your skateboard is gone. What the fuck. Well, yes, in hindsight, maybe it wasn't a good idea to leave your skateboard, probably your most prized possession, unlocked out in the open all night long, but that's not what you're thinking about now. You're panicked and you're spiraling into an insanely upset state. You have what feels like the most horrible cold, or some kind of case of the flu or something or whatever it may be, but you don't know that. All you know is that it fucking hurts. And it hurts a lot, too. The worst migraine you've ever experienced, along with a terrible stomachache and you're sweating because of how hot you are right now, especially the fact of the sun beating down on you like never before is definitely not helping. At this point you're sat with your legs crossed on the ground, your head in your hands. You just want to curl up in your bed, bury your face in your pillow and cry. Cry away everything. Release all of your anger, your fear, all of your doubts, your regrets. All of a sudden, you hear footsteps. You don't even care. You're not embarrassed or anything, for some reason. You just want to sit there and cry, get it over with. They can laugh all they want, you don't care anymore. You sit and cry again for another few seconds, then you stop and think for a few seconds and hear that the footsteps are coming towards you. Fuck. Is it several people? Are you gonna get picked on? Well that's probably obvious. Of course you are. This is so stupid. I hope they just pull out a g.n and kill me. That would be better than to just keep doing this for the rest of fucking life. The footsteps are close now. Probably only 10 steps away from being right beside you. Jesus, how can you even focus on the footsteps right now? This headache is so horrible that you cant even think about how many tears are flowing about of your eyes, so many that they aren't even just dripping off of your chin at this point, they're just pooling out and creating two puddles on the ground. That's the only thing that's not stressful right now. The relief. Watching the puddles slowly increase and flow into one. It's so... peaceful. It's so calm. Why can't everything feel like this? Maybe there are things that may make you as soothed as this. But there is nothing like this feeling in your life that you will ever experience. You suck. Your life is shit, and there's nothing good about it. Maybe you should just off yours-. Before you get a chance to finish your thought, you feel an unfamiliar, yet strangely comforting feeling. What is that? You try to focus... it's a hand. Someone's hand is rubbing your back. You notice that unlike a few seconds ago, your shoulders are no longer so tense. Your tears are streaming out less uniform, the puddle is now just dripping into several spots below you on the ground. And you're not crying as hard anymore. Who is this person? What do they want? Why are they doing this? Usually, knowing you, if anyone, especially a stranger, even brushed up against you, you would fucking sock them in the face. So then, you wonder, why is this so comforting to you? Is it because you don't have the energy to be mad right now? But, this situation right now, it feels so... blissful. Like you're floating around in the air, gracefully gliding through clouds and such like how a dolphin floats carefully through the sea. You've never felt so at peace before. You finally, after several minutes, minutes that felt like centuries, look up at this person's face. You just have to know who this miracle being is. When you look over at the face of the individual, you see a man. At least, at first glance. Of course, you're not entirely sure, mostly because of the bob cut and, once you look down a little, the chest window and lingerie. He appears to be about in his early 20s, if you were to guess. You look up at his face once more, and you see the most empathetic expression on his face. It feels like he knows exactly how you're feeling, like you two are one in the same in this situation. After a few seconds of looking at him, as well as wiping your eyes after becoming aware that the tears had come to an abrupt stop when you saw his face. "Hello," he says, in the most gentle tone you've ever heard, "My name is Bruno Bucciaratti." You could almost fall asleep listening to him speak. Not because it was boring or anything, of course, he just spoke with so much care that it felt like he may as well have wrapped you up in a warm, fluffy blanket and the softest pillow ever, put on the most elegant music and left you to rest peacefully. The way he presented himself was so kind and gentle, you almost started to cry again because of how much you felt comforted and relaxed for the first time in what felt like your entire life. You look back at him and reply, "Nice to... meet you, Mr. Bucciaratti... I'm, er, my name is... (y/n)." You whisper, almost still catching your breath. "It's my pleasure, (y/n). Also, does this belong to you, by chance?" He asks, so politely. "Oh my God, yes, yes it does! Thank you, thank you so so much sir..." You exclaim, gasping for air as you see Bucciaratti reveal your skateboard from God knows where. You were so elated that you almost forgot what a horrible state you were in for a moment, and all of the intense emotions snapped back to you like a brick. You fall back over, once again in excruciating pain. Bucciaratti helps you up to your feet. You feel even more dizzy, but once you feel how soft and smooth his face and hands are you melt back into bliss. This man is absolutely an angel. He must be the most perfect man on Earth. You feel your senses giving out on you. You black out after a few seconds...