The Talk

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I kept running after Ollie. He was fast. We were at this old building thing when he ran up some steps and sat down by a railing. It looked like people came here often. I walked on the path and saw Ollie sitting on the ground by the railings with his head in his knees. I knocked on the walk and Ollie lifted his head up. "Y/n, hey." Ollie said.

"Are you okay?" I asked. I walked forward and sat next to him on the floor. "I'm fine, I guess. I'm just fed up. My dad keeps saying it's my dream to do football and I do want to do it, I just feel like because he never could, he's using me as a way to get to it." He said angrily.

"Well, I know I've only known you a couple of days, but I know you have a caring, strong heart because I know if I had cut my head open in front of any other stranger, they probably just would have left me. So you can do whatever you want, but I know that whatever you do, nothing can change your heart of gold," I said gently at him.

"Thanks y/n," he said, "that means a lot." I smiled at him and leant my head on his shoulder. He was warm. We sat in silence and embraced each others company until we decided it was time to go back.

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