The Goth and His Psycho.

The Goth and His Psycho: [Chapter One]

A/N 

Hello everyone! I wrote this story a few years ago and never imagined it would be as popular as it is! I really appreciate all the love, comments and the general support for the characters and narrative! I still really appreciate it despite how long it's been finished for! 

I would just like to say before you start reading that there are lots of mature themes; sex, rape, violence, mental health issues etc, etc, so read on at your own risk and avoid if any of that effects you negatively. 

Also; I would hate for people to assume that because I write about this stuff that I'm romanticising it; the characters are messed up and the story is violent and morbid and was written from a bad place in a bad time of my life. If you're struggling and you see yourself reflected in these characters and you draw a connection from that, amazing, but please don't avoid getting help and reaching out. If anyone ever needs to talk, EVER, my (virtual) door is always open. 

Love Always, 

Shanelle xo 

~~~ 

  "Ow!" the cry was shrill as it fell from the young girl's lips. She hunched over her knee, clutching at the torn flesh, visible as she was wearing only shorts. It was summer, no need for heavy clothes, but now the twelve year old was wishing she had worn her usual jeans, the damage wouldn't have been so bad. 

  "Are you okay?" the boy crouched down, his eyes on her bleeding knee, she looked up at him, fighting hard not to cry. 

  "Fine" she tried to smile, but her lip quivered, and he smiled at her encouragingly. 

  "Here," he pulled a small plaster from his jeans pocket, and pulled her leg towards him, she hissed as he brushed the blood from her shin, and he gave her a quick smile that seemed way too mature for his age. Then he smoothed the band-aid over her new wound and wiped the blood from the edges. "All better" he grinned that boyish grin that made her blush furiously. 

  "What about your shirt?" she asked worried, her jade green eyes guilty as she tugged at the sleeve of his shirt, now coated in crimson liquid. 

  "Mom wont mind" he shrugged carelessly, and she shook her head at him, trying not to smile. 

  "Why did you have a plaster?" she asked curiously, her voice wobbly as he pulled her to her feet. He picked her bike from the floor, and handed it over before answering. 

  "I know how clumsy you are" he gave a childish giggle, and she couldn't help scowling. 

  "Am not" she grumbled, and he laughed at her as he picked up his own bike, and they started down the road again, pushing their bikes along slowly. 

  "Bree?" he asked as they got to her little wooden gate, she paused as she went to push through it. 

  "Yes?" she asked as she turned back to him, and she frowned as he scuffed his worn shoes across the floor, what was wrong with him? 

  "Do you like me?" he mumbled, and an angry red blush instantly exploded through her round cheeks. She stuttered furiously, before dropping her eyes quickly to the floor. 

  "Yeah" she murmured, and his eyes quickly darted up to her face, only to flit away, embarrassed. "Do you?" she asked, barely above a whisper. 

  "Yeah" he replied, he gulped and she looked up at him, surprised and excited. 

  "Bree?" he asked her again, quickly, breathlessly. She looked up at him, shyly, and made an effort to meet his lovely brown eyes, although it was hard "Can... can I kiss you?" he stuttered out. She thought she would probably die from happiness, and fought to keep the smile from her face as she nodded, way too quickly. He smiled, a slow, shy smile, and leaned over to hastily press his skin to hers.