Trigger warning(s): implied sexual/physical abuse (maybe? I'm unsure if it's implied)
First person POV
POV: Owen's
Owen's age: Sixteen
Unnamed friend's age: Sixteen·
"Hurry up! I'm getting all wet from the rain!" My friend complained, his voice more like a whiny child rather than a teenager.
"You can go ahead, then. I want to enjoy the rain." I respond, my voice hardly audible over the downpour.
"What?! You actually just want to stand there and get all wet? Have you gone mad?" He questioned in disbelief. I didn't respond, instead simply looking at the rain as my steps come to a halt just outside a small store. I take off my right glove, a very rare occurrence, revealing my scarred hand before putting the glove in my pocket. I then put my arm out from under the awning, letting the cold rainwater hit my skin, causing me to emit a quiet and soft purr.
I can almost feel his bewildered stare etching in to my wretched flesh.
"..I don't like getting wet. The sensation's uncomfortable to me, weird. I also don't like being cold. It's a feeling so familiar that its become unsettling. But the rain's different, oddly enough. The gentle, rhythmic pelts on my skin feels... good, in a way, and the uncomfortable feeling of being soaked becomes bearable. And while I still don't like getting wet, and while I still hate being cold, the subtle differences from other forms of water and other cold things makes it okay to me..."
"..What?" He muttered after a pause, confused by my unprompted words. I look back at him for a moment before looking back at my arm, admiring the way the rain maneuvered around my leathery and no longer even skin.
"..You'll understand what I mean one day." I say as my arm slowly drifts downwards towards my side, the rainwater flowing off my textured skin like a river.
I'll never be clean.
I don't bother putting my glove back on. There was a momentary silence before he broke it.
"You're weird, Owen." He comments.
"I know." I continue walking, his form hesitantly following after mine.
"Does that not bother you?" He wonders allowed. I shake my head.
"I might be weird, but I'm not crazy or something. And as long as I'm not crazy, I'm not bothered by being weird." I state.
"Whatever you say. Also, shove off, beanstalk." He speaks, his hands shoving my shoulder in an attempt to move me away.
His skin burns me.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever." I mutter dismissively as I sidestep away from him, the safety of the awning barely able to protect my body from the rain with how close I was.
"Let's just get to our dorms so I don't have to deal with this thunderstorm." He said, his pace picking up as a flash of lightning bolts through the cloudy late afternoon sky. I nod in agreement, though the reasons we wanted to get to our dorms quicker were vastly different.
"Yeah. Let's go, gnome." I respond.
"Hey! Don't call me that!" He pouts as he lightly hits my shoulder out of disapproval and annoyance.
I can get rid of their touch.
I just nod, the harsh pelting of water against the metal awnings creating a comfortable silence as we now wordlessly make our way back to our abode.
An abode that no longer feels like home.
Words: 543
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Owen oneshots
RandomOne shots specifically reserved for Owen. Some one shots will be wholesome or platonic. Some might be romantic. Most will be graphic and somewhat disturbing, as these 'oneshots' are more centered on Owen's mind and the thoughts/things that he had an...