Hey guys! Apologies about the last fic ;-; Sorry for so much "He asked" "I asked" in this one :/
Tried to make it fluffy enough!
Without further ado, this is being entered in @MyMentalFiction's Competition, so I hope this is competition worthy! Hope you enjoy it, mate :D You know the drill; Fave, follow and share!
Brian...
Ugh, Christmas again. It's always kinda been lonely for me 'round this time of year, and every time it got harder to handle, really. There was nothing at home for me at all. I left home, not telling anyone I was gay until I left home. It was only my parents who knew, I am an only child, and ever since I told them I was gay, I haven't heard from them. I tried to call and stuff, but they wouldn't answer. They said one was enough to handle, for I was rebellious and a messer growing up. I moved across many states from home, until I ended up somehow in California. Every Christmas, I would stroll down along the shores of the beach, as I would do every evening. I wouldn't do much at home, other than play guitar, or draw stuff I think of randomly.
"Place never gets old." I mumble, and knock back a gulp of JD. Tonight was one of those nights. Nights where I'd feel like shit and wanna drink away my thoughts. Troubles though? Well, I had some sort of job, moving shipment from ships, for a few hours a day, but getting just a little for it. If it was paying my rent, it was okay for me.
"And the weather gets colder.." I said, pulling my coat in tighter to me. Luckily I don't get sick easily, I must be used to it after all these years of living here. Though it never snowed throughout the three seasons, (Not that it's meant to) it sure gave us one hell of a cold blow. I found my old spot, leaning against the tree over looking the sea. It was dull out, but I could see the waves, and hear them too, so it was okay. Just behind me, I could hear people laughing. I slowly turned around, seeing a happy looking couple across the street. He had his arm around her waist, hers around his, and were walking down the snowy street, turning to walk around the corner.
"And then there's me." I muttered, and realised there wasn't much left to drink. There must be enough to last me until I made it home... "Home." Didn't feel much like one really. It doesn't even look like one. It's dark and gloomy inside and out. I never open the curtains, which makes the place look neglected. Well, that's what it is. How can I clean it if I can't even get enough payment to do so? I've been warned so many times, if I didn't pay the rent, the streets were gonna be my new home. Of course, I was usually out there most of the time, so it didn't bother me.
"I'll worry about tomorrow.." I say, looking up to the dark sky. Just as I say that, I feel a snow flake land on my nose, and I wipe it off.
"What is Christmas? Snow? Laughing? Family?" I think aloud, scratching the stuble on my chin. The thought never crossed my mind, until tonight. For kids it's all Santa, or presents, but we were all like that, right? But I guess as I got older I got out of that young phase, and looked at reality.
"Is it love?" I whispered, as I watched more heavy snow flakes fall from the sky. Hm, my drink is talking. I shut up my mind, and knock back the rest of the bottle, and decide to at least try make my way back home. It was dark, too much snow, and I was just about drunk. But in the end, I didn't really care if anything happend to me.. There's no one who would care, I won't have to worry about my job, and my place might be given to someone who needs it. But that didn't mean I was suicidal, I just didn't care. I was pretty much fed up. I put the bottle by the tree, and turned away, the sound of waves behind me. They kept me company at night.
"Love, huh? Jesus Brian, you're happy the way you are!" I growled to myself, walking down the path, causing footsteps in the snow.
Love. What was it about it, that made it so special? Was it waking up to someone to call yours every morning? Was it having someone to cuddle, someone who has surprises everyday? Or was it having someone who can understand you more than you can? As a kid, love was always a hug from my parents, but the last time I actually had a hug was when I was fifteen. I'm twenty six now. Love must change in time. But I don't need it, do I?
