Hello readers!!
This is my first published work so sorry if it's a bit rusty!
This is a warning now that this story will contain:
Heavy substance abuse
Blood
Drugs
Violence
And Death
Do NOT read this if you suffer from depression or suicidal thoughts.
You have been warned.
┏ C o n t i n u e ? ┓
[ Y e ѕ ] ◄ [ N o ]
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Shimizu's Pov:
I lay on the floor my last pack of cigs* in hand. I didn't really feel the pain of the huge knife in my chest, I felt oddly relieved until...Yuuto busts through my door like some sort of dumbass doctor. I feel his stupidly soft hands try to take the knife out of my damn chest, like an idiot I get hard again as I see him touching me...I felt so disgusted with myself I wanted to die but haha well look what situation I'm in now.
Well...that's near the end of my story, dying with a fucking bonner just because that nerd was in the same room. But, this...isn't the beginning of my sad ass story, so why not just start from there.
YOU ARE READING
"Soul Of a Smoker"
RomanceDo I need it? Mocha Am I under control? Can I beat it? Wake up If it swallowed me whole Would I see it? I can make you feel alive I know, but do I need you to survive? (Ha ha ha) Just a sip Does it still matter which one? Just a drip (Ahhh!) Am I du...
