A/N: short chapter but it'll serve as a beginning to the next one which will be out soon.
Kent
I didn't know if I was running away from people, or if I was running away from my past, or my future, but I was running alright.
It was really stupid of me; dragging him into this: my hell of a life.
He didn't need that. He had the perfect life with his perfect family. All I was going to do is tear the canvas of what we were down to shreds.
I drew an image of him in my heart.
He painted it with colours only he could choose.
I tore it apart. He taped it, too afraid to lose, and go back to the start.
A stroke of water his shades will soothe.
A symphony it was but he wasn't Mozart, yet I wasn't Beethoven.
But our canvas, from silk was woven.
He tore it apart. I taped it. We called it art.
I didn’t know how far I ran, or even where I was for that matter. I was walking aimlessly. No food, money, clothes. No nothing. Just me.
Fuck me.