He shyly stepped up to the young man he's been talking to for what must be months now. Austin stared, no emotion present on his face.
His insides were churning, and he swore that he was going to be sick. He felt flushed in his light hoodie. With one final roll of his stomach, he began to leave.
He thought that he could do this. He thought that facing him face-to-face would be no different, but he was terribly wrong.
A steady, warm hand grabbed his wrist, and panic flossed his body. That familiar voice that's been clouding his mind was comforting him in ways he would never be able to explain.
"Why don't you stay? Please."
YOU ARE READING
Projection
General FictionIt's not so bad when you have someone there for you. Kinda.
