Bloody fists

ೃ༄ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒  ͟͟͞͞· · · ✦

『▸ Brief mentions of conversion therapy

『▸ Violence 

『▸ Homophobia

『▸ Man does not know how to communicate...

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It'd been so long since he saw Forte.

At first he thought it was a ghost of a memory long passed, a daydream come to haunt them as they so often did. Come to tease him with something that could never be.

Arlo wanted to say hi, hell he almost did, he missed Forte so fucking much. Those joyful words however, died on his tongue as quickly as they formed.

All it took was a simple action.

That's all it took for Arlo's joy to twist and darken into something vastly different.

A kiss, a passionate gesture shared between two male lovers. An action they'd never be hurt for while Arlo had to endure so much pain and hate. That's not fucking fair, why is his first love allowed to have what he could never hope to achieve? 

How dare he have that?

Arlo didn't want to hurt Forte, skies above he wanted to make him smile not cry.

But he couldn't help the self-righteous anger that seethes through him, that selfish desire to tear everyone else down so that they can't do the same to him.

"You're a disgusting queer freak."

How many times had he heard that thrown at him? How many chicks had he hooked up with in a piss poor attempt to prove to everyone he's not gay? That the therapy worked so he doesn't have to go back.

Bloodied fists tighten as he walks away from Forte. He couldn't stand the fearful look given to him. He couldn't stand to see himself reflected in Forte's eyes. 

Most of all he couldn't stand the person he became to keep himself safe.