Drawing of a Rose [Troyler AU]

By jamtim

53.1K 3.6K 1.6K

Troye Sivan is a 16 year old boy who loves to do art. He's also homophobic. When Tyler Oakley rocks up to the... More

Prologue: Slowly Closing
Chapter 1: The New Kid
Chapter 2: Masking the Emotions
Chapter 3: Cute Boy
Chapter 4: Confessions
Chapter 5: Flashbacks
Chapter 6: Explanations
Chapter 7: Artwork
Chapter 9: Not fully out
Chapter 10: Casual Chit-chat
Chapter 11: Plans
Chapter 12: Iced Coffee
Chapter 13: Opinions
Chapter 14: Revelations
Chapter 15: Fairy-flossed Angel
Chapter 16: Who Was He?
Chapter 17: One Big Question
Chapter 18: Like I'm Toxic
Chapter 19: One, Two, Three
Chapter 20: Flower Of Truth
Chapter 21: Like Hell He Was
Chapter 22: Pity and Sympathy
Chapter 23: Toast
Chapter 24: Sun, Music, Peace.
Chapter 25: The Sandbar
Chapter 26: Ocean Eyes
Chapter 27: I Promise it Will
Chapter 28: Twisting and Coiling
Chapter 29: Forgive?
Chapter 30: Autopilot
Chapter 31: Raindrops
Chapter 32: Future
Chapter 33: Unraveling
Chapter 34: Choices We Make
Chapter 35: Safe of Secrets
Chapter 36: Painting Memories
Chapter 37: Movies
Chapter 38: Delving Into The Past
Chapter 39: Old And New Acquaintances
Chapter 40: Stop Being A Teenager
Chapter 41: Swelled Head
Chapter 42: Recharge
Chapter 43: Fast Paced
Chapter 44: Moving Too Fast
Chapter 45: Recollection
Chapter 46: Blanked Out
Chapter 47: Please Stay
Chapter 48: Getting It Together
Chapter 49: Say I Love You
Chapter 50: Thanks for Listening.

Chapter 8: Messages

1.2K 95 19
By jamtim

Troye P.O.V. (Trigger Warning abuse)

I creaked the door open, hoping he won't notice my presence. I breathed a sigh of relief when I only heard soft snoring.

I stepped inside, going straight to my room. I locked the door, relaxing instantly.

I chucked my bag in the corner and placed my painting on my small desk.

You're a really good artist.

Tyler's words echoed through my head. What did he see in this painting?

To me, it just looked like a girl with broken wings. Nothing more, nothing less.

I didn't know where I got this image from. Whenever I paint, I just go into autopilot, letting my hands do all the work. Every time I painted, his voice entered my mind, screaming words about how I was useless and unmanly. Yet I still painted.

I swung my cupboard open and placed the girl with all my other canvases. That was the only time they got to see the light.

My stomach rumbled, and I decided to eat.

I made my way into the kitchen, quietly, as to not wake him.

Reaching for the Nutella,  I accidentally knock the bottle of honey to the floor, it's crash resonating through the house.

I cringed, putting it back and grabbing the bread.

"What're you doing in there?" A gruff voice yelled from another room. Footsteps pounded through the house.

I winced, preparing for the worst.  I could see him in the corners of my vision,  standing in the door way.

"What are you doing?" He yelled.

"I'm making a sandwich" I mumbled.

"Why the hell have you got paint on your hands? What the fuck you've been doing?"  He accused.

I gulped and looked at my hands. Sure enough, there were specks of red, green and black smudged on my hands.

"T-there were kids m-mucking around at school with paint" I lied.

"Then why is it only on your hands, you little shit?" He yelled.

I couldn't retaliate. Instead I waited for the pain.

I cried out as he pushed me to the ground. He kicked my stomach, knocking the wind out of me. A punch landed on my arm. A kick to the leg.

"You fucking liar" he spat and walked back to his room, slamming the door loudly.

I laid on the floor for a minute, before standing up. I grimaced as I put pressure on my leg.

That's gonna show tomorrow.

I breathed in slowly and finished making my sandwich,  limping towards my room.

A sat on my bed, staring at the wall while absentmindedly taking bites of my sandwich.

I heard two faint plops on my plate, and looked down to see tiny puddles of salty water.

I reached to my face to wipe the tears away. My elbow was pressed against my pocket, a crackling noise being made every time I moved.

I furrowed my brow as I reached into my pocket, pulling out a yellow note.

Suddenly I remembered the events that happened earlier today.

'-want someone to talk to-'  it had said.

That was what I needed right now.

I grabbed my phone and typed the number in.

My mind started to doubt my actions. What if it's a prank? What if they don't care? I shook the thoughts away and texted the number.

(Bold italics like this are the messages)

Hi. You said if I wanted to talk to someone was to message you, so I am. I am the kid that was crying in the toilets. I won't tell you who I am, I just want to talk.

I hesitated before sending it. I clicked turned my phone off before I began to regret it.

I quietly exited my room. The time was 7pm,  so he would be out drinking by now.

I placed the plate in the dishwasher. I didn't feel very hungry, so I decided to skip dinner.

I limped back to my room, leaping into bed and snuggling in the covers.

My mind kept racing as I tried to fall asleep.

My mind began to settle, before my phone vibrated.

I opened my eyes. Who would be messaging me at this time of night?

I unlocked my phone, my breath catching in my throat when I read who it was from. Well, it was a bunch of numbers, buy I still knew who it was.

The mysterious boy had messaged me back.

Hi! talk to me whenever you want, I'll try to message you ASAP. don't worry, I don't care not knowing who you are. If you ever feel sad again,  message me :)

He actually messaged me back.

I decided to message him back, short but meaningful.

Thank you.

I eventually fell asleep,  for once a slight smile tugging my lips and not full of dread about the next day.

A/N So a happy chapter!  Yay!

And thank you for 70 reads! Damn I did not expect that.

Ooh I got a story to tell.
When I was getting off the bus, before the doors opened, I looked at a girls phone and what she was doing. And you know what she was doing? She was on WATTPAD! I got excited (internally). I don't know what she was reading I never read what was written but I just got excited knowing someone else used WATTPAD.

Oh by the way, this story I'm writing, no one knows I write it. Muahahah.

Idk what I'm writing anymore.  It's late and I need to go to bed.

Comment and vote if you enjoy this blah It helps blah blah blah.
Imma go now!!
BYE!!!.

Jam.


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