Paint Me A Better Life

Paint Me A Better Life

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing36m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Tue, Dec 25, 2018
"Why do you choose to paint?" Tobias asks, leaning back against the house, his legs dangling over. "It's an escape I guess. I get to create something, anything." I say, pulling his warm sweatshirt closer. "Would you say that you're able to create something you may not have in your own life?" Tobias asks, turning his head to the left to look at me. I turn my head to the right to see him. "I guess so, why?" I answer. "Paint me something. Paint me a better life." >>>>> Addicted to drugs and unable to remember a day he hadn't had a drink of alcohol, Tobias Eaton struggles with his life. Not only the addictions, but the fact that his home are the streets of Chicago. He left home when he was sixteen and has never looked back. He's now made a small name for himself, being the best street fighter there is in the city of Chicago. And all his money, goes to the drugs and booze. And the most ironic thing, is that the place he fights the most is a block away from a rehab facility. Beatrice- Tris- Prior, finds him one night on her normal route home from work as an artist. His face almost a different color and blood dripping all down his body. At first, he seems icy, and cold. But he soon warms up to the idea that someone may actually care.
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[COMPLETED] Kizalyn Reeves has fiercely fought to establish stability after a turbulent upbringing. While opening her tattoo parlor offered hope, an abusive relationship cast a shadow over her newfound independence. Determined to defend herself, she turns to boxing at Knockout Arena, only to encounter an arrogant instructor. Despite his hot-tempered attitude, she finds herself drawn to his circle of friends. However, a late-night visit uncovers the gym's sinister secrets, plunging Kizalyn into a dangerous world she didn't know existed. Her world is shattered by a single gunshot, forcing her to place trust in an unlikely ally-the very person that pulled the trigger. -- "115," he says, his breath hitting my face. I stammer, "What?" "That's how high your pulse is right now," he says as he presses his body further against mine, closing any gap that existed between us. His thumb grazes over my lips, his eyes dark. His hands are off of me abruptly, and he walks away, heading for the stairs. I stare after him, unable to move from my position against the wall. He looks back at me, a coy smirk forming on his face. He says, "I'm dying to find out how high I can make it go." -- **WARNING This story contains heavy use of violence, drug abuse, domestic abuse, sexual content, drug addiction, and illegal activities. Read at your own discretion. Disclaimer: The characters depicted in this story share names with famous individuals, but they are entirely fictional and do not represent or depict any real-life personalities.

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