where's my love

Prologue

Cold bones. Yeah, that's my love
She glides away, like a ghost

Does she know that we bleed the same?
Don't wanna cry but I break that way

Cold sheets. Oh, where's my love?
I am searching high, I'm searching low in the night

Does she know that we bleed the same?
Don't wanna cry but I break that way

Did she run away?
Did she run away? I don't know
If she ran away
If she ran away, come back home
Just come home

If you bled, I bleed the same

If you're scared, I'm on my way

If you ran away
If you ran away, come back home
Just come home

Fear. The most haunting emotion, second to love.

Love is the beginning of fear, finding you when you least expect it. It creeps up on you, and once it gets you, it never let's go. You shrug it off as your mind playing tricks on you when suddenly, your mind is filled with thoughts of that person, that one specific person, and you can't think of anything else. It drowns you in feelings of self-doubt and insecurities, and constant fear.

When asked what you should do, people usually respond with 'don't waste time, because you'll regret it if you don't say it'. Those people are wrong. The regret that will follow your confession could be greater than the regret that would come with staying silent.

So you stay silent.

And live in fear.

~

Fuck.

That was the first thought going through Dan's head when he walked into 4th-period english. The seat that he had originally been seated in from the beginning of the school year (which in reality, was only about a few weeks), was taken. Not that he usually got annoyed or angered when this happened to him, but this was the one class where he didn't know anyone, and he wasn't inclined to socialize with his fellow classmates.

So he walked into the room, and passed by his seat, glaring at the student currently having a discussion with his friend seated in front of him. Even though he was angry at the guy sitting in his seat, Dan kept his mouth shut.

Talking to his peers wasn't his favorite activity, and would constantly ignore their comments, as well as any kind of action to try and spark a conversation. So, consequently, he would sit by himself.

He scans the classroom for emptied seats. The majority of the students are huddled into small groups, some sitting on top of the desks, their feet resting on the chairs bellow them, giggling and conversing with their friends.

Dan sighs and walks over to the one seat without a book bag or book resting on the desk or in the chair. He drops into the chair, drops his bag under the desk, and opens it, taking out his textbook and class notebook, leaving it on his desk. He then crosses his arms over his chest, and leans back in the chair, waiting patiently for the class to begin.

After a couple of minutes of Dan analyzing the scratched and dingy classroom floor, he hears someone clear their throat to his left.

Dan jumps slightly and looks up at the boy who was calling his attention. The boy has raven black hair, which greatly contrasted to his pale skin tone. The most shocking feature of this boy is his blue eyes, which were slightly covered by a few strands of his hair.

"Can I sit here?" He asked, motioning with his hand at the empty seat next to Dan.

Dan thinks for a moment, and then nods his head, turning his attention to the front of the classroom when the door opened again to reveal the teacher, Mr. Brown. After taking attendance, he turned on the board behind him and started explaining the material.

Dan opened his battered, crumpled, and stained notebook, flipping to the first blank sheet, and started writing down the material Mr. Brown was discussing.

Until he lost his place writing and couldn't remember the bullet point, and decided against asking Mr. Brown to repeat his statement. So instead of pay attention, Dan absentmindedly started drawing circles on his page, ignoring the lecture.

A few moments later, he felt a nudge at his elbow. Dan instantly looked in the direction of the boy who had sat next to him earlier. Dan scowled but nevertheless waited for the boy to say what he needed.

"Did you write anything down about what he just explained?" The boy whispered.

Dan pushed his notebook in the boy's direction and he sighed. Dan smiled at him nervously (he may be antisocial and hate people, but he's not an ass), and fiddled with his fingers.

"Damn," the boy muttered to himself, "thanks anyways."

After a few moments of silence, the boy turns back towards Dan, shocking him slightly considering that he turned unexpectantly.

"Names Phil," Phil said, resting his elbow on the desk, and extending his hand towards Dan to shake. Dan raised an eyebrow and looked at his hand curiously. Phil held his smile and stared at him expectantly. Dan then sighed and took his hand, shaking it.

"Names Dan."

Dan dropped Phil's hand and crossed them over the table. Phil pulled his arm back and rested a fist on his thigh, his other hand resting on the table.

"Well Dan, it seems like this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."