The fashion foe casually read a neaty book outside the school premises. He sat alone on a bench aside the flower garden. The wind swiftly pushed against his locks. He took a whiff of the fresh air, flipping a page. A small curve formed on his face as he stared down at the book. Tiny tinted shades of rosemary appeared. The story he examined was vividly wholesome. The rest of the world caved in whilst he pictured flawless, joyful endings. This guy dearly adored shipping. All in all, he was binging a romance.
He discovered all sorts of limerance. He imagined a new dynamic route he could turn to. He has observed the ups and downs in relationships, whether they were in real life or fictional. Although he mainly enjoys going on a search for healthy couples, he chose hatred at its finest.
Something about the word 'hate' appeals to him. Perchance, it's the way he sasses and switches his emotions, directing rivals or his absolute nonsense over a simple inquiry. He didn't save time to comprehend the meditation. In all honesty, he doesn't feel the need to try. He has a certain someone helping him figure.
The bookworm wouldn't dare pair himself in a personal situation such as himself and an enemy in the wild. Considering his depressing bullying life, he knows the truth himself. All of those fantasizing dreams he'd cope were never to occur. Sometimes, when one dreams, they just have to wake up. The boy has learned with his own feet.
Nonetheless, steering said feet can be difficult. Zander Wickham found out the rare way. The same goes for his "twin" Drew Blight (istg if y'all make any toh reference).
The so-called twin stumbled upon the exact area the pianist lied. He flicked with his phone, catching the breeze. He glances up and spotted one of his victims. Being the immature git he is, he slid the device in his pocket and made his way toward them.
"What's good, freak?" He shouted, gifting immediate attention.
The smile Zander once had faded to a frown. He furrowed his eyebrows, blankly darting at the boy standing in front of him. He muttered, "What in the ever-loving fuck do you want?"
"Well, you know me, I get bored a lot." Drew answered, smirking at the older guy. He added, "I was wondering how you've been, now that I can clearly see you're slacking around."
"Okay, and?" Zander argued. "The fact you brought up you were bored and feel the need to bother me shows you have such a pressed life. It's not cute, babe."
Drew was astonished by the words he heard. He tittered and replied, "Damn, did your silly, old story not go the way you planned?" He jabbed his index finger into the book Zander was reading. The purplenette blazes at his actions.
