Ever since that blondie with his icy blue eyes spotted you, your life has changed to chaos and uncertainty, sometimes good, sometimes bad. He was an uncertainty himself, but somehow it was charming.

Everyone around who knows Lucien knows how charming he is how his words carry in between each other, how his mystery makes you crave for more, to see more of him, him as a whole. To find his core, and find out what he really are.

He is the perfect vision people see when they think of wanting to be perfect. He is a vision, an extraordinary one, unpredictable. Thanks to him your life has gotten more depth to it, new people, new things, new feelings, everything almost like a storm in the sea.

This night felt like a storm, and not only because of the heavy rain outside the window near Lucien’s bed. Lucien went on to talk about David, the man who seemingly by accident always was around Lucien, which Lucien did not enjoy, and he told you that David is a “fruit”, term reffering to a queer, his eyes always left your face when the topic of queers gets mentioned, but his distain for them was apparent.

You sat down on his messy bed, and you take a quick glance around as Lucien rubs his face with his hands angrily, or stressed. The books surround his bed like flowers surround the field, it is clearly visible he doesn’t really spend much of his time in his room, only going there to sleep. The record player standing in the corner sleeves with records scattered ‘round. However you get snapped out of your thoughts.

Lucien sits next to you, a halfway drunk beer bottle in hand, and a miserable look on his tragic angel face, and before even thinking you say

“Let’s get rid of him.”

you say, insinuating, let’s get rid of David. Lucien snaps out of his drinking his feelings away moment, and he looks at you, teary eyed, slightly flushed face from drinking, and rubbing the life out of his face. He doesn’t utter a word as he slowly lays his head down on your lap, a hand on your knee as he silently presses his face to your thigh, and he mutters agaisnt it, voice unsteady

“Right now…I just need you to write us something beautiful…”

you sit dumbfounded, frozen like a statue, unable to think properly, why is he in your lap? Why now? Why ever?