I'm not gay

Special Chapter

So, this story reached 200k reads and I promised multiple times that once it reached this point, I would add a special chapter. I honestly did not anticipate I'd reach this, or that I'd be able to write this (Even though at this moment I'm going on a vague idea for this part and am hoping my improved skills will help me write something that is adequate). I have drifted from the Septiplier fandom, I know, I'm horrible but it happens.

I am now working on an actual book which I will not discuss but I think if I write it well, it'll be great. Also, I have improved my writing since starting this book, and I'm a bit sheepish about this book now because there are so many things I would change but I guess that's to be expected.

But enough of me ranting and procrastinating, thank you all so much for reading and putting time into following this story. It really means a lot when you comment that you loved the book and liked the parts, really, it's amazing. So here we are, the special chapter and the LAST part that will be added to this story. ENJOY!

And yeah, that's me in the picture. Smiling even though I was stressing about everything in life in that moment.
_____

~Sean~

When I stepped out of the house, my shoulders heaved upwards and I shivered at the sudden change in temperature. I wanted to retreat right back inside and perhaps cuddle into the blankets of my bed and perhaps spend another hour or the entirety of the day just napping, but alas, I knew I had to come out today.

This is why I shouldn't make promises, because I overestimate myself and my willingness but when the time comes that I have to commit to my promises, I want to back out and return to the comfort of my bedroom.

"Ugh fuck", I breathed out, a cloud of mist forming in the air as the oxygen evaded my lungs and into the atmosphere. Perhaps I should be used to this cold climate by now, but it's not like I come out that often. I have an inside job, so why would I have to come out? Oh right, because I make promises to come out, which brings us back to the reason I shouldn't do that sort of thing anymore.

I take another minute to mentally complain to myself before I look to my door and lock it and then start my descend down the front steps of the house and hop off the last two. I consider taking the lazy option to use my car to get to the park which was actually just a five minute walk. The car would be warmer, but it would take more time wouldn't it? The process of switching it on, hoping the engine wasn't frozen and then start driving for two minutes before having to get out again, and that's taking into consideration that the car might not heat up in that time.

I decide against using the car and start walking along the sidewalk, my hands stuffed into my pockets and my chin hiding under the fabric of my soft scarf Mark bought me in Paris. Well, he didn't buy it for me, he bought it for himself and I took it from him. Despite the fact that I've been wearing it more than he has, it still had that smell of him on it.

My eyes fluttered closed as I breathed in his fading scent, my senses numbing in pleasantry. My eyes reopened and I stuttered in my walk when I nearly collided with a street light, taking a small hop back and then forward in a sidestep to avoid the pole. I spent too much time in my thoughts, I swear to god it was going to be the death of me.

Mark always said I was too clumsy or consumed in my fantasies, which was true, and I was tying to pry myself from the habit of thinking too much.

I stopped by a coffee stall to get myself some black coffee then an additional cup of herbal tea, because I knew he liked that and there was no doubt he'd appreciate it in such cold weather like this. Then the unreasonable anxiety filled me when I considered maybe he thought the same thing or getting us drinks and I come there with drinks and then we end up with more than we need and it's super awkward and-