This is a depressing story. Thank goodness that it is not true then, right? This is actually a small piece I've had in my head for like half a year now, but I haven't gotten around to write it up until now (Or, if you would rather see it that way, I haven't been able to get my thumb out my arse when it came to this).

I hope you like it, and feel that it was worth reading when you're done.

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Source of light and darkness.

He woke up. But, he didn't wake up alone, as he had done every other day of his life. He didn't wake up by the alarm bell, as he had done every other day of his life. And he certainly didn't wake up in the morning, which he had done every other day of his life. No, this time, he woke up next to someone else. Someone warm. This time, he woke up because of someone whispering in his ear, lowly, caringly, lovingly. And this time, he woke up in the late evening hour of our round clock, because what it was that had put him to sleep, had happened more or less, just after dinner.

He opened his eyes, looking to the other. The other's smile reflected upon his own frame, and if it wasn't for the darkness of the room, the feverish blush on his cheeks would be seen, clearly. He was asked if he needed something, food, water, just a bit of tendering. He looked at the clock and sadly enough excused himself, but he had to leave, for he had parents waiting at home, and a school waiting for his arrival in the morning. So, instead of staying in this wonderful, albeit somewhat small estate, he would move up on his feet, putting on his clothes. His body and heart wanted him to return to the warmth of the bed, and especially of the other human in the room, but his mind clearly said no. He would have other chances for that. Hell, he would have a whole life-time in front of him.

He turned around in the hallway, sharing a hug, and a kiss, with his newfound source of light. When he, after some time, finally would leave the apartment, he would feel like a new man. He walked towards the bus, and felt a vibration from his cellphone in his left pocket. He smiled even more then he already was as he thought of who it might be that sent the text-message, but he did not take his mobile out of his pockets until he had firmly sat on a seat in the blue bus. Before he read the message, he would glance out the window, looking at the snow that fell onto walkers, cars, ground, bushes and trees, only seeing the beauty of it. Not the ignorant cold and the cracked, gray and mischevious ice that was hidden beneath the fine layer of snow. Then he would look at the message.

It made his heart skip a jump, and he shivered some as he let out a joyfull, and somewhat loud, laughter. He looked around to make sure that no one else heard him do that though, it would look quite awkward and he was easy to embaress. Luckily, for him that is, the bus was almost empty, it was only him and the driver. And he was seated quite far back in the bus. Happily he returned to the world of text-messaging, answering the other and smiling brightly. He even hummed on a happy song, while pondering if this was love or not. Is this love? This great sensation he felt in his body, more then just a simple tingling feeling that felt as if it could make even the most secure person having butterflies in his belly before a speech. This warmth in every fiber of his body feeling as if he would let it leak out he could warm the entire that he was living in for several months. Is this love? He hesitated before answering that, unsure of it he was, not wanting to claim anything untrue. But the next vibration from his cellphone, the next message he read made everything clear to him. He sighed happily as the bus drove closer to his destination. Those three words really were said too much, but at the same time, not enough.

As the bus stopped, he would jump down his seat and walk towards the open door, almost falling on the way, drunk with the happy storm that raged in his body, in his torso, in his chest, right in his heart. It pumped, not blood, but love out to his cells, carrying not oxygen, but happiness for his muscles. He walked into the opening of the well-lit tunnle that he had to walk through in order to reach home, his eyes fixated downwards, as he didn't want to have people who would happen to pass by to look at him because of his widely smiling face. Suddenly he felt something prodding his chest, making him stop in his tracks, something like a finger but thicker, harder...

He looked up, and saw a completely, utterly and outmostly normal face. He opened his mouth to speak but-
”Gay.”
A shot.
And then darkness.
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Thanks for reading. Have a good night.