Description
"You can't keep living like this," he whispers, the freckles on his face pulse pain as he smiles a soft, reassuring smile at me. His brown hair that was spiked at all times was now falling into his deep, sea-weed green eyes. His minty scent floats into my nose making me want to groan as I could taste a bit of the mint coming from his breath and cologne. His cold, hard hands go around my waist and he looks me straight in the eyes and smiles, as I pry my eyes from his beauties. His smile donned with a small dimple stands out on his freckled face. The freckles were light, as if they melted in with his pasty skin. "Not without you," I whisper, a devious smile on my lips. I was hammered in the middle of school and he could see this as his reflection stares back at him from my muddled eyes. He shakes his head at me and frowns at little bit. "I don't drink, Dylan, not your Tanqueray," he says before letting go of waist and walking the other way down the abandoned, blue locker filled hall. Papers were scattered everywhere and you couldn't tiptoe and not step on one. I knew he was being honest, that's better than any gentleman. Read more to find out if Dylan and Chase find a way to cut Dylan's addiction or if they will get plastered trying.
No Labels (Coming Soon)
