Thief With A Bike ~ Krii7y

~~~ { 46 } ~~~

Whatever it was, John couldn't pinpoint it, it seemed to evade his thought process, or thought topic in general, he couldn't quite figure out exactly what he'd felt in that moment.

Whatever, it is what it is.

The path he followed down was covered in beautifully smooth powdered snow, which danced freely along the edge of his board. It was far easier for John to learn on this trail, then the ones he'd learning on previously.

That didn't mean it was unscathed though. Plenty of trails lined the powder, and made it difficult to stop and or turn in certain areas. That or it was a steep drop from powdered snow to ice underneath. Like skating on the edge of a wooden plank.

Smit had no problem with it though, stopping to help John, and even doing fast spins in the powder, making shimmering snow fly everywhere, and more specifically, into John's face.

Smit's giggle though, warmed John's heart, he was like a kid making snow angels in a Christmas movie, happy, without stress.

Wait Christmas.. when was that again?

John had always spent Christmas practically alone, yes, he had parents to celebrate with, but it was never a celebration for him. He never got presents, being too spoiled for that apparently, and he was usually hiding away in his room hopeful to avoid his family members.

Of course that only works until dinner, when he had to come downstairs and eat the shitty food prepared for him.

Yeah, John didn't dislike really any food in general, but the people who made it somehow made it unbearable for even a wild animal to eat.

He'd tried to feed his portion to the dogs but they also wouldn't eat it, for good reason.

So he'd given up, and ate it, gaged almost at the same time every year but still managed. Food wasn't even the worst part though, it was his cousins, aunts, uncles, all of the family members that came along on Christmas.

His cousins would pick on him, or wrestle in his room. He always beat them, but it didn't stop the relentless teasing.

Any female cousins or aunts would tease him for always having painted nails, something he'd picked up from a close friend. That friend unfortunately died 2 years later, he'd overdosed, no one was there to help him.

He remembered being so angry at his parents for daring to make fun of said friend, and even say they deserved it, but now he'd came to the conclusion they were all supposed to die in that small town.

John was the minority.

He survived.

Despite this John still didn't mind celebrating Christmas, he just never had any time to do it, either low on money, working, or just simply being too tired.

John snapped back to reality, sliding to a slow stop next to Smit, and pulling out his phone. This song was shit.

He looked back up to Smit after returning his phone to his pocket, where it would likely freeze, but wouldn't be lost. He was met with a pair of mismatched eyes, heavily contrasting with the snow Infront of him.

"What are you doing?"

"The dark tint is annoying." Smit huffed.

"How are you not blind right now?"

"Who said I wasn't?"

"You got me." John shook his head weakly. He looked up just enough to see, just through Smit's eyes, that he was smirking.

John glanced around the crowd around the tow rope, the people here were either younger kids, or older people who'd mastered the craft of jumping, it seemed. His eyes, however, didn't land on any of those people, but someone who seemed out of place, and also extremely familiar, yet he couldn't pinpoint why.

Suddenly, that pure panic feeling was back, but John didn't move, didn't say anything, he just glared, he was trying so desperately to figure out who this man was. Apparently Smit was aware of this too, having the same unease as John glancing about, concerned. 

John didn't notice that, his eyes were locked on this guy, and oddly enough, he glared back, before disappearing beyond the crowd.

"What the fuck?" Smit questioned, although it fell upon deaf ears. John knew him, he wanted to know who he was so bad, the gears in his brain turning, lighting themselves on fire.

"John?" Smit asked again, his tense mood prior dropped in favour of the need for John's attention.

"Hm?"

"You still up for this?" It seemed Smit chose to ignore what just happened, maybe he hadn't even seen the person responsible for it in the first place.

"Yeah." If Smit could drop it, he could too.

A/N

Im just gonna post the others like..................................................................................................... bruh

sorry ive been like not doing anything, ive been chill I just completely forgot I knew how to write....

yeah...

hope u enjoyed!!!!