Hey! So this is pretty much my first prompt/storyline thing I've done on here so please take it easy on me 😅. I'm not super experienced and I did my best to write this out, my apologies if there's any flaws or it doesn't seem as detailed or long as others you've seen. Well, here it goes hope you like it!
(This is MxM and romantic, nonsexual, and in 1st person, even though the prompt is in 3rd. If you want more info on who I am you can check my bio! Also, PM if interested or add me on discord cherrycoke#2443)
It was a pleasant, mid-September evening in a quiet California town called Mountain View. The air was cool and the sun was setting, the sky being a breathtaking scene of blue, pinks, and oranges. At the abandoned, unfinished bridge was Robin Spier, slowly making his way to the end of it. In hand was a marker and hanging off of his slumping shoulder was a small, black, well-worn backpack full of patches and pins ranging from bands to horror movies. What was he doing here? You may ask. Well, to put it simply he had been a quiet boy, 17 years young and more of an observer than one who experienced life in the front seat, minding his own business and just getting by. Me, myself and I was a quote that basically described him. Or that is, until someone came around and flipped his world. He made it to the end, the reason of him coming being a bit sinister and dark, he himself being nervous and squeezing the life out of the black marker in hand, so much so that his already pale knuckles turned white. He sat down, his legs swinging over the edge and peering down at rocks and river that dropped down below, which became more difficult to see as the light of day started dimming. Was he really going to do this?
(This is MxM and romantic, nonsexual, and in 1st person, even though the prompt is in 3rd. If you want more info on who I am you can check my bio! Also, PM if interested or add me on discord cherrycoke#2443)
It was a pleasant, mid-September evening in a quiet California town called Mountain View. The air was cool and the sun was setting, the sky being a breathtaking scene of blue, pinks, and oranges. At the abandoned, unfinished bridge was Robin Spier, slowly making his way to the end of it. In hand was a marker and hanging off of his slumping shoulder was a small, black, well-worn backpack full of patches and pins ranging from bands to horror movies. What was he doing here? You may ask. Well, to put it simply he had been a quiet boy, 17 years young and more of an observer than one who experienced life in the front seat, minding his own business and just getting by. Me, myself and I was a quote that basically described him. Or that is, until someone came around and flipped his world. He made it to the end, the reason of him coming being a bit sinister and dark, he himself being nervous and squeezing the life out of the black marker in hand, so much so that his already pale knuckles turned white. He sat down, his legs swinging over the edge and peering down at rocks and river that dropped down below, which became more difficult to see as the light of day started dimming. Was he really going to do this?