Daniel Howell threw on his hoodie, trying to talk to his verbose mother on the phone. His responses were always the usual: "Yes mum." "Okay, mum." "love you mum, bye." "Okay." "Okay." "Okay." "Okay goodbye mum my phone is dying." That last one was actually true. The lengthy time they spent on the phone talking usually drained his battery. He plugged his cell phone into his portable charger and stuffed it in his backpack, along with his spray deodorant, gel, wallet, keys, and other things in a disorganized pile. Dan (just barely) zipped up the backpack and before he rushed out the door, he checked his arms and legs to check if a new one had popped up. As per usual, every one had a broken heart above them, signifying all of the relationships he had failed. He looked on the back of his wrist, staring at the tattoo he had from birth. As usual, a fleur de lis was shown. Nothing changed. The world was still not giving him a soul mate.
-Hey guys! Lately I have been losing views on my stories and I have never really been active here, but I will try my best to update as often as possible! I am making it a task now.
