I'm ill, home alone and I have some biscuits. Let's write some shitty one shot eyyyy
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It's always cold on the way home in October.
I push my glasses up my nose and stride on, pulling my backpack straps up as I walk. Bland faces pass my on my adventure home, but one face sticks out. A man, looking about 18? Is leant against a wall, a cigarette pitched between his feminine lips. Tight jeans and a customised leather jacket, Doused in what I guess is band logos and names, both complimenting him, but creating a 'too badass don't even try to talk to me or I'll punch you in the face' kind of look.
While I'm walking past, he grabs something for inside his jacket. Oh God. Oh God. I'm going to die. Trying not to breakdown on the street, I continue. A hand gently touches my shoulder, possibly giving me a heart attack.
"Hey." A masculine but sweet voice called behind me.
"H-hello." I manage to squeak out.
He spun me around to face him, quite easily actually, and gave me a charming smile.
"My band's playing a gig tonight and I have some spare tickets if you want one?" I don't know whether to feel flattered or like I'm just another boy he could easily get in the pants off.
"S-sure." I couldn't say no to him, it's just impossible.
He hands me a ticket, which I shove in my pocket, keeping our eyes linked for a few seconds longer than socially normal.
After my encounter with the boy in tight jeans, I convinced my parents I was going to study at a friends and head towards the club the ticket informed me they were playing at, 8pm. Sharp.
-
They were still setting up when I got there, but I'm not sure they noticed me there. I sat by the back of the bar playing game boy while they tuned guitars and set up pedals and amps. A familiar voice cut through the noises like a hot knife through butter.
"Yeah, just checking the mic." I looked up a little, not much, but enough to see the boy leaning onto the mic stand. "No game boys aloud, it's the rules." He smiles, gesturing his eyebrows at me. I smile a little back and hide it under my hoodie, still playing it. "And all cute boys with glasses on will be forced to kiss me because they are too damn adorable." I felt my cheeks flush, he just giggled at me, not a taking the piss kind of giggle, like a friendly, heartwarming giggle.
About halfway thought the set, it was 9:00, ,my curfew. As much as it hurt tearing my eyes away from the boy practically moaning into a microphone, my parents would kill me if I wasn't home. Heading for the door, someone grabbed my arm.
"Are we really that bad?" He said, pouting out his bottoms lip a little.
"No just-parents-curfew." The words were jumbled but he understood.
"Can I maybe...walk you home? A boy like you out tin the dark on his own isn't good"
"O-okay"
-
He took long strides which made it hard to keep up with him, but he was nice to talk to.
"I'm Gerard by the way.'
"Frankie . How old are you? You're really tall"
He fakes a gasp, "how dare you ask such a question!" He chuckles "I'm 18. How old are you? You're really short!" He mimics
"I guessed right. I'm 16. And shut up"
"Aw little baby, are you cold?"
"No-what-why?"
