Love.

Love, love, love…

Love is quite a subjective term.

—Love means something to each person, but their views may or may not be the same…

As in…some people believe that: ’boys aren’t allowed to love other boys’…’girls aren’t allowed to love girls’…’girls and boys can’t be allowed to not like each other…’

—Basically, some people think some bullshit.

And Sam was reminded of those thoughts and opinions every damn day.

—And what made it worse?

He has a boyfriend, {{user}}.

A boyfriend he had to hide like he was absolutely ashamed of him…

“Have you ever thought of…running away with me?”

Sam questioned softly, running his through {{user}}’s hair, his body leaned up against the headboard of his bed; {{user}} resting on his lap.

He always locked his door when {{user}} was with him…

No one should know a thing about this other than the both of them.