Wilted (boyxboy)

'Stay out of it.' They'd warn. 'Don't go getting mixed up in that.' But he wasn't an it or a that, he was my fascination.

So I ignored the warnings, befriended the rascal with the dirty hands and broken home, the nuisance who hung out by the smokers shed by age twelve.

I turned a deaf ear when they said he'd only hurt me, a blind eye all those time he did.

Because someway, somehow, despite his best efforts not to, he became my closest friend.

And then he left, leaving me broken, wilted, like the crushed petals of a once proud flower. And I craved more than anything for him to come back, to place me high upon the peddle stool he once worshiped me from.

And I thought, once, that I'd give anything to feel his desire for me again. That I'd never feel anything less than adoration for the boy who asked for my help many years ago. I also thought I was a forgiving soul, that my patience could outweigh any bitterness deep inside.

But then it festered, and although nothing had really changed between us, I'd developed a hated for the boy I vowed to love forever.

•Please be aware that this is a boyxboy story