Being homeless wasn't easy after being kicked out, stupid homophobic parents. They said that it was to "protect their reputation" but it was clear that you knew it was just a hatred for your kind. You didn't have much with you and people weren't too nice to people who lived on the streets. You'd made a living of doing whatever small jobs people would allow a 16 year old to do, buy bits and pieces to eat and drink with whatever money you earned and then sleep on the side of the street after dark.

But even during these shit moments, you had a place that you enjoyed. The town cemetery. It was quiet and almost relaxing. You would go on relatively cold nights and sleep among the graves. It was one of the only places you felt like you belonged and could avoid having people throw things at you on the side of the road. Sometimes people came by and noticed you while paying respects to dead relatives and would give you food or a blanket out of pity. You had collected "gifts" from people like a fur blanket and some soft socks.

This specific night, you decided to head to the same cemetery that you enjoyed going to. This night was different though, you saw a boy at least a year older than you with ghost white hair and baby blue eyes just wandering around the cemetery. He didn't look or seem hostile, just enjoying the night. He had a white bunny plush that looked made of a soft white fleece, a black sweater and little ribbons tied on his clothes.

He wasn't a regular but you'd seen him now and then, usually avoiding him because you thought he would be snobby or rude because his clothes were clearly quite expensive. He was definitely doing better than you were. He was well put together whereas you were wearing torn and worn clothes and hadn't slept a full 8 hours in a while.