Whether you sniff it, smoke it, eat it, or shove it up your ass. The result is the same: addiction.

❝i'm blind,❞ luke muttered. ❝nice to meet you, blind. im michael.❞ © 2014 michaelsvans {#1 fanfiction - 9/28/14} {#8 teen fiction - 9/18/14} cover by @michaelclifford

❝our story isn't over, it's just forever unfinished.❞ © 2014 michaelsvans

Luke is infatuated with the boy with locker number 2537.

in a horizontal integration type of business, people like luke don't really belong. cross dressing twenty-nine year olds aren't supposed to watch their thirty-one year old CEO buy as many firms as he can simply to maximize everyone's profit.  but here luke is, in a dark blue skirt and grey top, dropping his communications report on michael's desk five minutes before 10 p.m., his blue eyes falling lower and lower as the minutes take on.

It's hard to live a life with the other half gone. or Michael is prison and Luke has to live.