bluesweatersleeve

[bluesweatersleeve]

| 2 | callmefitz

jschlatt is in this chapter, i wanna include him cus he deserves more appreciation and recognition so if you don’t know him, i recommend watching him :)

/ carson. /

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サンクチュアリー: sanctuary.

a place of refuge or safety.

eg: “It’s kind of like my sanctuary, I guess.”

-

recap:

That’s why I feel people’s faces sometimes, just to know them.

I want to know the guy behind me.

-

“Carson, don’t tell me your gonna end up being one of those guys who fall asleep during math class!” Sara whispers shout, poking my head to “wake” me up. I wasn’t even asleep, just contemplating life. It’s only my second class and I already feel like going home. Unfortunately, the guy that sounded nice isn’t in this class, not that I know of. “I already feel like I’m sleeping. I’m actually blind, Sara, in case you forgot about that,” I spoke sarcastically, Sara groaned and her footsteps became distant which made me chuckle under my breath. I sighed, listening to the teacher blabber on about math while I wrote in my journal. For some reason, out of every other day, I choose to act like an asshole today.

But when am I not an asshole?

“Carson, fuck dude, what’s up,” A familiar voice spoke beside me, I smiled and reached my hand out toward the voice, feeling their face. “Carson, get your greasy hand off me. You know who I am.”

“Aw, you’re no fun, Schlatt,” I complained as my hand was smacked away.

“Yeah? Look who’s talking.”

“Oh, haha very funny, you jerk,” I replied, getting back to writing. Schlatt, or Jason, has been my friend for a while. We just started talking randomly and ever since then, we got along, now we’re good friends. I don’t mind though, he’s a nice guy. “Anyways, so I just sold out on my merch and holy shit, am I gonna be drowning in fucking green paper,” He mentioned, laughing at the end, he’s also a YouTuber so it doesn’t surprise me that he has some cash in his pockets. I wanted to be a YouTuber before I was blind, I was hoping that it was something temporary and it wasn’t. I’ve never had a real job before either. 

“Yeah? I bought a shirt.”

“You did? You better not be lyin’ to me or I’m gonna scream at you. Scream in your ears, Carson.”

“Yeah? Maybe I’ll keep touching your face with my greasy hands,” I was joking but at the same time, I wasn’t joking. Secretly in my mind, the guy from last class was still in my mind. Never have I been so curious about a dude that I’ve never fucking met, it’s strange. “Schlatt, do me a favor?”

“Uh sure, what is it?”

“Can you tell me if there’s like a… dude with blonde hair and blue eyes in this class?”

“I- uhm- well,” I listen to him turn around and wait for a response. “Yeah, yeah there’s some tall fucker all the way in the back with like two other people.”

“Huh, okay. Good to know.”

“How’d you know that?”

“I guessed, I like to imagine what people look like when I only hear their voice. It’s kinda quirky,” I muttered, getting back to writing. Jason didn’t respond until he gasped, whispering to me. “Carson, they’re pointing at us. Carson, why’d you make me do this?”

“Y-You’re asking the wrong questions to a blind guy,” I yelled at him quietly, I panicked and I felt my hands shake. Did I really embarrass him that badly? “Hey, you’re going to be fine. That tall guy is gonna be okay and so are we. Plus, now you have a better chance to talk with him.”

“What’s his name?” I asked immediately, my tone was desperate and I knew that Jason knew as well. 

“I don’t know, I’m sorry,” He whispered, I let out a shaky sigh and kept writing. I swear I can feel him staring at me, I wonder what he’s thinking about. Probably about why a computer engineer and a blind guy are talking about him. Maybe he wants to talk to me? It’s hard to tell coming from a blind guy. This fucking sucks.

“Okay, I’m going to end our lesson here,” The teacher sighed, letting us leave. It felt earlier than usual or maybe it was just me. “Hey Carson, I gotta go but I can help you to your next class if you want,” Jason offered, I smiled a little and agreed. Slouching my backpack across my shoulder and placing my other hand on Jason’s shoulder to walk out of class properly, pulling my long cane out while letting go of Jason. “Oh fuck, Carson, the tall dude from class is coming up to us,” Schlatt spoke nervously, I listened to the running footsteps behind us.

“You’ve gotta be shitting me-”

“Hey, uhm-” The guy spoke beside me and I swear I almost started crying right then and there because he has a pretty nice voice and accent. “Can I get your name real quick?”

“C-Carson. What’s your name?”

“Cameron, it’s nice to meet you,” He chuckled at the end and I stopped in my tracks. “Uh Carson, we’re gonna be-”

“Why are you talking to me, Cameron?” I asked, ignoring Jason and tapping my cane anxiously.

“You forgot your ruler, I just wanted to give it back.”

“Oh wow, thanks, dude. That ruler is very important to me.”

“Yeah yeah, so uh- sorry I’m just gonna-” Cameron’s hand grabbed mine and placed the ruler on the palm of my hand as I curled my fingers around it. His hand still holding mine until I moved it away, I wish I didn’t do that because his hand felt nice too. “Sorry if that was weird.”

“No no, I don’t mind,” I smiled, mentally getting ready to scream at myself for acting like a retard. “Oh well, I gotta go but I’ll see you around later. Is that okay?”

“O-Oh yeah, no uh- go ahead and thank you for giving me back my r-ruler.”

“Heh, anytime, Carson,” Cameron answered, walking away leaving me extremely kiddish. I  almost dropped my long cane as I searched for Jason, my hands flailing all over the place. “Schlatt? Schlatt, where the fuck are you?”

“I’m right here buddy! You fucking did it, bro! That was amazing,” Jason cheered, his arms wrapping around me. He let go shortly, shaking my shoulders excitedly. I never had such a good evening, it’s absolutely fucking bonkers. “We really need to go to class, Carson,” Schlatt said more worried than before, letting go of my shoulders in the process.

“You go to your own class. I’ll get to mine alone, plus they can’t say jack shit about a blind kid being late.”

“Well, alright. I’ll catch ya later, okay?”

“Yep, I’ll see you soon,” I answered and began making my way to class. Long story short, I’m gonna be thinking about Cameron a lot.

-

It’s my sixth class right now and I’ve never been so fucking tired. I wanna go back to sleep, but I’m still thinking about Cameron and the stupid ruler. I hate sitting in the front row, sighing and rubbing my eyes while yawning, getting my materials out for my English class.

“Should I talk to him?” A voice is distant from where I’m at asking, it sounds familiar. “I don’t know dude, just go talk to him. Don’t be such a pussy, Cam,” His friend replies, a much deeper voice than him and definitely American. “Shut up, asshole,” He answers and stands up, footsteps coming towards…

me.

“Hey, Carson,” Cameron greets, a chair dragging across the wood floor as he sits next to me. His pencil writing on his paper as it grinds against the desk. 

“Hello, Cameron. How are you doing so far?” I asked nonchalantly, or at least try too. 

“Been okay, I’m tired as fuck though. I hate my next fucking classes, not gonna lie.”

“Oh, you have a seventh class? Sucks for you,” I snorted, my cheeks in pain from smiling too much.

“Of course, the fucking blind guy only has six classes. What do you do the rest with your free time then?”

“There’s this like weird garden at the back of the school that I found one day, it’s kind of like my sanctuary, I guess. It’s stupid.”

“Oh, I think I know the garden you’re talking about. Are there any cigar buds underneath the bench?“ 

"Yeah, a few, I step on them sometimes. Why?”

“Well, those are from me. Sorry if that ruins the whole experience,” Cameron laughed for a second, making me lose my mind. “No no, it doesn’t ruin it at all. I’m glad we both like that garden.”

“Wanna hang out there after this class? I’m down to skip my last class whenever.”

“Hm, I don’t know. I’m really going to have to think about this. Man, I’ve never thought this hard before in my life, what should I say?”

“Probably yes.”

“Then yes, I would love to hang out there.”

=1520 WORDS.=

[bluesweatersleeve]

when did i get so good at writing smut fics??? i have like 3?? and they're all good?? and kinda kinky?? but im not even ashamed of it?? and its with a crackship too?? what?the?fuck??

[bluesweatersleeve]

Resources For Writing Sketchy Topics

Medicine

A Study In Physical Injury

Comas

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Portraying a kleptomaniac.

Playing a character with cancer.

How to portray a power driven character.

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Writing a character who lost someone important.

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How to play a serial killer.

Writing insane characters.

Playing a character under the influence of marijuana.

Tips on writing a drug addict.

How to write a character with HPD.

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Writing a character with Dissociative Identity Disorder.

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Writing a character with paranoid personality disorder.

How to play a victim of rape.

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Writing a character who self-harms.

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How to play the stalker.

How to portray a character high on cocaine.

Playing a character with ADHD.

How to play a sexual assault victim.

Writing a compulsive gambler.

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How to play a character with social anxiety.

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How to play someone creepy.

Portraying sexually/emotionally abused characters.

Playing a character under the influence of drugs.

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[bluesweatersleeve]

brain cAn yOU pLEAse FUCkIng WRItE sOMETHING I SWEAR TO GOD MAN

[bluesweatersleeve]

reblog if you’re a safe place for:

lesbian

gay

bisexual

transgender

queer

pansexual

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ace

hopeless romantics

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non binary folks

the whole spectrum etc…

follow everyone who reblogs ;)

[bluesweatersleeve]

Aw, what's wrong? Are you sick?

for @corkcollector

from yur uhhh are you sick drawing :)

fitz/matt..???

tl:dr = fitz kidnap poor babey matt, gives him pill(s) and now matt has bad stomach ache :(  oh cam? Uh cam not here… anyways…

Its bad and rushed because i had like 50 ideas for your drawing and i just decided “welp, whatever i wanna put in along the way ill just put oh well” lol ill have a list of what i wanted to put at the bottom

DAMNIT ITS FORMATTED DIFFERENTLY awhatever im too tired to fix it im sorry please forgive i might fix in the morning but i must sleep my leg tingles

-

The rope began to hurt his wrists, though his ankles became numb to the constant pricking of the roughness. The ropes little bumps and ridges scratched at Matt, going up and down, sometimes side to side. Being restrained to a chair meant non stop struggling, and the rope had begun to dig into his wrists, and even though Matt couldn’t see his wrists, he bet that they were red with pain, perhaps more red than Matt’s red flushed face from the humidity of the basement.

Even if Matt had been stripped down into nothing, the heat would still feel like as though it was personally choking him. Matt didn’t know if it was the heat or maybe if the wounds scattered across his body began to become infected from neglect, but he began to feel sick. And it was evident through his coughs.

Though the coughs felt more like than just a cough. They felt as though it was killing him slowly, and perhaps it was, but Matt refused to let himself die in a dusty, muggy basement. Especially a basement that didn’t even belong to him or a friend. The coughs only progressively got worse though, the outcome transitioning from nothing to blood. It was always blood, never anything else.

Matt refused to look at the small blood patches surrounding him. He knew it was there, and he knew it was from him, but the look of it made the coughs return. The smell was bad enough, but the look of the dried, and recent blood combined only made it worse.

Matt’s only release from everything was when he would pass out from lack of food, or when night fell, and he would be left alone to sleep for the next round of abuse. Though sometimes, his captor liked to interfere with Matt’s temporary feeling of freedom.

Sometimes, Matt’s captor makes Matt sick. But Matt would rather die than be sick.

-

The cold water splashed onto Matt, the water, although a refreshing feeling from the constant heat Matt felt, was still a shock, and it stung into Matt’s fresh scars from his captor’s lovely session of torture earlier in the day.

“Ah-!” Matt gasped, the pain and shock combining into a sound. Matt gasped for air as the water dripped from his hair, and began to cough, already feeling something build in his throat. “F-fuck!”

Matt coughed, the blood falling from his mouth and landing onto the floor with a soft splat.

“Disgusting.” The man that towered over him laughed, throwing the once water filled bucket off to the side. He moved slowly as he stood off to the side of Matt, narrowing his eyes when he saw another blood patch fall to the ground. Fitz scoffed as Matt’s coughs continued. A sly smirk played onto his face. “Hmph, look at you. Weak, puny, dying.”

“N-no!” Matt choked out, spitting the blood out from his mouth. The blood ran down his lip as he weakly glared at Fitz, the fighting spirit in his eyes beginning to stir again. “I-I’m not-”

Matt’s head dropped down as another coughing fit began, his throat beginning to ache as blood clogged up, feeling like it only moved a centimeter each hack he had. The blood came out in pieces, landing in the water coloring it red. Matt felt like passing out from the coughing fit, but his attention was focused on Fitz who smiled smugly at him.

“I-I’m not dying..”

“You so sure about that?” Fitz asked as if to mock Matt’s statement. He laid his hands softly onto Matt’s shoulders, holding it with a wicked grin. “You’ve been coughing blood for how long now? 3, 4 days? Oh! And how long has those wounds been on you? 6, or maybe a whole week?”

“No-”

“Oh Matt, how will you ever get better after this? Normal medicine won’t do..” Fitz said, looking at Matt who turned his head to the side to avoid his gaze. “Good thing I don’t use normal medicine.”

Matt’s eyes became alert and his head whipped around to look at Fitz. Fitz smirked at him and brought his hand behind him, pulling out a bottle of white pills. Matt’s tough persona broke, and he shook his head, lowering it, and feeling himself begin to break down. Fitz chuckled, and rattled the bottle as he circled Matt and stopped in front of him, looking at Matt’s lowered yet almost still head. The tears fell onto Matt’s already wet shirt, and FItz rolled his eyes.

“Stop crying, you fucking child.” Fitz grabbed a handful of Matt’s hair and pulled it up, forcing Matt to look at him. Fitz’s face scrunched up as Matt looked.at him tearfully. Matt snarled and glared at Fitz, who growled back. “God, you’re disgusting. Good thing I’m getting rid of you.”

Fitz opened the bottle, and took out a few looking at Matt who stared at the pills with fear. The white pills looked as though they were glowing in Fitz’s hand under the moonlight. The rest of the pills were thrown off to the side, close to where the bucket lay.

Fitz approached Matt, and time seemed to move slow, as if to torture Matt in what might be his last day alive. Matt stared at Fitz through half-lidded eyes, who stared at him back. Fitz managed to catch him off guard and grabbed Matt’s hair quickly, and pulled it again, Matt’s mouth hanging loose to which Fitz used to his advantage and dropped the pills in. Matt instantly tried to spit them out, but failed when Fitz clamped a hand over his mouth.

“Mm- mh!” Matt shook his head, trying to remove Fitz’s hand from his mouth. Fitz grabbed the back of Matt’s head and held him still, smiling as Matt’s half-lidded eyes turned wide eyed with panic. “Mmm!”

“If you swallow it, this’ll be over so much quicker.” Fitz said, tightening his grip on Matt’s head. Matt shook his head, but complied when Fitz began to crush his hands together.

Matt closed his eyes as he forced himself to slowly swallow the half dissolved pills, having to also swallow the bitter and gross saliva pool in his mouth. Matt opened his eyes and glared at Fitz when finished, but he folded when a sharp and sudden pain hit his stomach. Fitz let go of Matt and watched as Matt twitched with pain.

Matt breathed heavily and looked at Fitz, who smiled cheerfully at him. Matt lurched forward, and cried out in agony as the pain continued.

“D-damnit..” Matt heaved, dropping his head as the pain disappeared and reappeared. “F-fuck you!”

“Aw, what's wrong? Are you sick?” Fitz laughed, glancing back at the bottle of pills. He smiled and turned back to Matt “If you’d like, I can give you more.”

“N-no!” Matt writhed with pain, feeling it beginning to throb, as if it had a mind of it’s own and knew Matt hated it. “Please, no!”

Fitz cackled and stepped away from the view in front of him. Matt’s poor attempt at trying to stop the pain ended with the rope on his wrists digging deeper into him. Matt didn't know what to do, but all he felt was an extreme pain that seemed to spread all across his body. Matt wished he could scream, but his throat was clogged with blood and saliva, only letting whimpers and chokes out.

Fitz held Matt's head softly, trying to stop himself from laughing as Matt shook.

"Ah, don't worry Matt, by this night you should be dead." Fitz proudly announced to him, pulling away from him and walking to the door. "Keep coughin' Matt, because if you're not dead by tonight, then I'll kill you myself."

Fitz revealed a metal bat that rest just behind the thick wooden door frame, and tapped it on the floor, letting it echo, and sound over Matt's pained whines. He took one last glance at the soon to be corpse, and smirked at what he has made of Matt.

The door slammed shut, and Matt knew it was the last time he would hear it, thank god, because Matt could already feel himself slipping from consciousness.

Matt smiled weakly and looked at the door.

"I'll see you, Cam.." Matt murmured, dropping his head, letting the pain overtake him as his breathing slowed. "I'll see..you.."

-

WELP heres like all 50 of my ideas lolol

-fitz pretends to be cam, puts something in matts drink and turns him into a mindslave (and a 2nd one but matt dies instead)

-fitz pretends to be cam, puts something in matts drink, and matt begins to forget stuff, and eventually forgets e v e r y t h i n g, and is stuck in an neverending existential crises

-matt was gonna spit in fitz's faces before being forced to take the pills

-matt was gonna go crazy after taking the pills like "death? dont know her! fuck you!"

-there was gonna be no bloody cough before but i said yeah sure why not

-fitz was gonna wrap ropes around matt to increase his pain, or he was gonna let matt out of his chair but like, break his limbs (then i was like "wait a minute idk how to write bones!), and let him writhe in pain

-cams spirit gonna appear oOoOo (then i said no! this isnt wattpad!)

-idk in the basement theres a small ass window, and i was gonna have some weird ass connection to the moon but was like nah

-was gonna add a whole thing of cam being the next victim and matts dead body just in front of him the whole time, and fitz comes down and he's holding the pills

-^^if i was gonna add that, once cam died, fitz was gonna call his fukin goons and be like "alright the first couples down, get the next one. ah..swagger and toby was it?"

-i was too lazy

-bUt there was gonna be one where cam just breaks into the basement and beats the shit out of fitz and leaves with matt

-^^or it was gonna be fitz reacts like the fucking flash and beats his ass first and taunts matt with his bruised/dead body

-i was too lazy

okay im donee..its 4:02am im gonna sleep i hope you see this hahhxhhdha

bye sisters, respect the queen or i slice your peen

of course queen is toby.

[bluesweatersleeve]

bylat coin

tumblr, make a meme. edit something on the paper just like @bluecorpsed did with the fat yoshi

[bluesweatersleeve]

schlatt coin

tumblr, make a meme. edit something on the paper just like @bluecorpsed did with the fat yoshi

[bluesweatersleeve]

idk im getting some flexing vibes from this

so uh, ya boi met the misfits last weekend, and my cosplay got mentioned on the podcast. 

[bluesweatersleeve]

A Bouquet From The Man Who Never Loved Me (Switz)

His lungs burned, but the burning felt cold. He knew if he didn’t escape this session soon, he’d be kneeling over on the floor, his throat wheezing out things he didn’t want them to see.

The damn bouquet that grew in his lungs and rooted into his heart: the bouquet he called Fitz.

He quickly shoved himself away from the table, narrowly missing fans that got too close out of worry. The balaclava was choking him…no, it was the flowers that were . Throwing off his helmet, much to his friends’ shock, he ran as fast as he could; as fast as his lungs could handle, through the twisting convention hall. Bathroom. He needed a bathroom.

Gaze foggy, Eric was dead set on finding the closest, and hopefully, a more private, bathroom. Spots clouded his sight as he painted heavily as he gasped for air.

This was it. He was going to die because he loved a man that didn’t know or love him back. Fuck this, he thought. Stumbling slightly through the crowds of other gamers and fans, he kept his head down. The petals were filling his mouth, and he so desperately wanted to pull down the stupid mask and let them flutter to the floor, but he knew he couldn’t. Not now, in the midst of thousands. His privacy would be taken from him. The last piece of him that was truly his would be stripped away if he tried to clear his throat. He had to keep going.

Behind booth one hundred and four, there it was. His saving grace. The men’s bathroom. He hastily made a beeline for it, ignoring the small protests of one of the vendors at booth one-o-four.

His hand slid against the grimy tiled wall as he fought to keep himself upright. A man dressed as a character from Rainbow Six with strewn props on the ground blocked his path. His finish line only a couple feet away and he was stuck behind a cosplaying man preening himself in the cracked mirror over the sinks. If it wasn’t for his state and literal incapability to speak he would’ve chewed the man out for blocking the stalls. Instead he pushed passed him, with a pat on the back as a way of saying excuse me. He turned into the stall with a hastily glee, turning to twist the lock before he stripped the chain mail from his face.

Dropping the metal headpiece to the floor with a small grimace, as it hit the dirty tiles with rapid clinks, he followed it by pulling the black balaclava over his head. Clutching the black fabric in his hand he fell to his knees in front of the toilet and let out a strangled gasp. This was an utter fucking nightmare. Two fingers in his mouth and he spit out petals of pink yellow and blue, further and further he reached into his throat, his fingertips grazing over a flower bud at the base of his tongue and below the uvula. Before he could pull even the slightest, his gag reflexes kicked in; flowers, stems, and leaves exited his mouth with a gargled force. The colorful petals graced the toilet seat and the floor with their wet presence, as he slumped backward. Chin in the air, his fingers slowly slipped from his throat. Down his tongue went his calloused fingertips as they moved further to the base of his throat, where he placed his palm gently.

The man he had seen as he had entered this grimy bathroom had left. He checked twice again, just as precaution, before beginning weep. His tears dampened his shirt collar as he knelt on the bathroom floor, shaking and feeling much more alone that he had ever felt before. Each and every time hurt more and more. And with more pain came more flowers. His throat burned from vomit and his heart ached for Fitz. He didn’t want to do this alone anymore. He was terrified.

The bathroom door opened with a heart stopping squeak. Eric went silent, quickly picking his body and chain mail from the ground, collecting it in his arms. He prayed that it was only someone who had come in to take a piss or whatever.

His prayers weren’t answered.

“Swagger? You in here, buddy?”

Toby. Of all people, he was glad it was Toby. Exhaling an audible sigh, he quickly flushed the toilet, sweeping off stray petals, before pulling over his balaclava. He wasn’t going to take chances and put his chain mail back on, Toby was smart, he would guess that Eric had taken it off and then promptly question why he did.

“Y-yeah, just a second.” He replied a little too loudly, hoping he hadn’t let too much of a gap go between exchanges. He heard Toby sigh with relief.

“You alright in there? You left so suddenly and people said you looked awfully panicked, mate.”

“I-I’m fine,” he stuttered, clearing his stinging throat, facing the closed door, “I’m fine.” Another pause, “Yeah it was probably the takeout we had yesterday, I’ll be out in a minute.” Eric watched the floor as Toby shifted his balance from foot to foot.

“Alright, well, me and the boys are going to the Bethesda panel that starts in about ten minutes, we can meet you there.”

Sounds—“ he coughed, “sounds good,” He pulled down the mask from his nose, spitting out a daffodil petal. “I’ll see you there.”

Eric’s heart pounded with anxiety at each footstep Toby made as he exited the bathroom. Was he too obvious? Did Toby know? Oh god if he knew…

The door squeaked again, telling him Toby was gone. Relief flooded over his body like ice water. But the relief was short lived once he started to unlock to shitty aluminum partition they called a door and looked down. Between his feet, the stray daffodil petal he coughed up laid there, as if it was mocking him. His heart sank.

“Oh shit, oh fuck,” he hissed to himself, stepping on it, hoping that if he pressed hard enough the evidence could go away.

The chain mail rattled against the door as he bent over to swipe the now crushed petal from the ground.

With bitter disdain, he glared at the wilted white bract and quickly shoved it into the pocket of his jeans. If Toby found out, it was going to be that stupid thing’s fault.

Fiddling with the lock again, he pulled roughly and it gave with a hardy clack. Stepping out of the stall, he carefully tugged the metal headpiece over his head and down his face. Running a hand down the cool metal links, smoothing them out so they wouldn’t tangle, before wiping his red eyes slightly with the pads of his fingers. He felt a sense of pride. He had gotten through one of his worst cases yet, and not a single one of his friends knew. Well, unless Toby saw the petal on the floor; then he was a fucking goner.

Turning away from the mirror, he let out a short yelp. Body now filled with the electric pulsing of adrenaline that coursed through his veins.

“Jesus, Toby,” he breathed. “You trying to kill me?”

Toby stood straight from his place leaning against the wall. His heeled boots making him close to the same height as Eric.

“I don’t know, are you trying to kill yourself?”

“Wh…what do you mean?” He asked, feigning confusion as best he could.

“You know what I mean, Swagger.” Toby said, extending his palm out. In his hand there was a single flower. A forget-me-not. Eric’s breathing hitched in his throat, but he coughed over it.

“So? A flower? What do you want me to do with it?”

“Stop playing the idiot, Eric, you know what this is.” Toby said sharply, knitting his brows together behind his glasses. “It was found in your helmet.”

“Sometimes I keep flowers in there, in case butterflies wanna come chill with me.” Be scoffed, “You know this Toby.”

Toby balled his fist, crushing the small blue flower in his hand, and thrusting his arm down to his side.

“If you don’t want to tell me right now, fine; but you and I both know what this means. I may not know the person, but it’s either them, or you,” he said, “and you’re going to have to choose eventually.