"It was love at first sight, at last sight, at ever and ever sight."

Before the story...

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He opens his eyes and sighs, irritated. He hates being woken up the second he manages to fall asleep. He kicks his feet and stretches. Without his alarm clock, he had no idea what time it was, but he could hear voices arguing outside the door to his room. He slips out of the window and looks around for something to do. His eyes dance with excitement. The sun is just beginning to rise, casting an orange-pink hue across the sky. The birds sing their morning song, and a gentle breeze blows through the trees. He decides to go for a walk along the beach; sand between his toes felt good.

He runs his fingers through the sand as he walks, admiring its unique texture. He gazes out at the horizon and marvels at how vast it is - stretching infinitely into eternity. The waves crash against each other in a mesmerizing rhythm that puts him in a trancelike state of peace. A small flock of seagulls soar overhead, cawing at one another as they ride on drafts of warm air.

As he continues his walk, he eventually notices a silhouette in the distance. It takes him a moment to realize that someone is sitting at the edge of the shore, and as he gets closer, he can make out more details of the figure. It is an older man with grey hair and a kind face. The man looks up at him with a gentle smile, and He feels himself relax in his presence.

The sand is warm beneath his feet as Andrew sits beside him on the beach. He introduced himself and exchange names - his name is Thomas, and he used to work as an accountant but now spends most of his time fishing and writing poetry by the sea. He turns to Andrew - "What brings you here?"

A calm swirl of emotions twirls in Andrew's stomach before he smiles softly at the stranger - "I'm looking for inspiration, anything that could help me find a way out of my situation… and hoping I'll find more than just that."

Thomas nods knowingly and says, "That makes two of us. You will find your way, whether it's here or elsewhere - just have faith and keep going."

Relieved and pleased with this piece of wisdom, they soon shook hands and say their goodbyes; as soon as Andrew feels Thomas' skin against his own palm, he has this feeling that they will meet again. His footsteps feel light as they crunch over the sand beneath him and he can almost see himself walking away from everything back home, towards something better. As he walks away, a warmth spreads through his chest like butterflies fluttering in a summer sky; maybe everything will be fine after all.

He heads back in the direction of school, and as he gets closer, he notices people looking at him curiously - a few of them pointing and whispering behind his back. It's only after he passes a shop window that he realizes why; there is a dark bruise on his cheek, just above his eye. He looks away quickly, hoping no-one noticed and continues walking until he reaches school. He is constantly asked about the bruise on his cheek, but Andrew never mentions what happened. He just smiles sadly and shakes his head before continuing on his way.

As he enters the school, he feels a sense of relief to be safe from any further questioning. He walks to his locker and opens it, his thoughts drifting back to Addy. He wonders if she noticed the bruise, and if she did, what she thought of it. He decides to text her, just to let her know he's okay.

"Hey, just wanted to let you know I'm okay. Had a little accident, but nothing serious. Hope you're doing well. - Andrew"

He hits send and waits for a reply, but it never comes. He sighs, disappointed but not surprised. He knows the difficulties of their relationship and how complex it can be. But he refuses to give up. He's determined to find a way to make it work, no matter what it takes.

As he walks through the halls, he hears whispers and stares from students, but he keeps his head down and makes his way to his first class. The memory of the collision with the wall filtered through his mind, thwarting all attempts for it to register in his present thoughts. The teacher asked him why he had a bruise on his cheek and the likelihood of the innocuousness of the story she had been presented with became apparent. His smile was less convincing than usual, he thought.

She grew more insistent about needing an explanation for his tardiness; aware that something else was going on but unable to discern exactly what it was. His reality lurched back into focus as a flood of light poured in from the open door behind her as other students shuffled in past her to their desk. It happened quickly, but it seemed like time slowed down and paused over this moment while they stared at each other to see who would crack first. He felt bad for lying, but avoided getting into too much trouble by cutting class the day before; just long enough to escape the questions in which he could not provide a suitable response.

He's still processing the events of the morning as his teacher begins to lecture. But then he feels himself drift away into a trance-like state of peace. The thought of Thomas' words echo in his head - "You will find your way, whether it's here or elsewhere - just have faith and keep going." He knows that if anyone can help him make it through this time in his life, it's Addy and Thomas - one on each side holding him up with their inspiring words; helping him believe that maybe things are happening exactly as they should be.

Lunch approached but instead of going to the cafeteria, he trudged to the library to not cause anymore commotion about the bruise. When he walked into the library, it was empty and eerily quiet, which was odd. He continued to walk into the library, and in there was one person who was in the nonfiction isle, Addy Bushroot.

Addy's eyes were wide and curious, her brow furrowed with concern. She looked at him carefully, her gaze flickering from his eyes to his cheek, an unspoken question in her eyes. Her expression was unreadable; she seemed to be trying to understand what had happened and how he was feeling.

She quickly looked back down towards his cheek, assuming to be the source of his distress, then back up into his eyes, searching for an explanation. Her expression was a mix of worry and gentle concern.

"Addy," Andrew built the courage to approach her, taking slow few steps up to her and his hands out by his sides.

"What's with the bruise?" She said quite loudly as she rushed to his side, her hands were gentle but firm, as she delicately cupped Andrew's face, turning it sideways to get a better look at the bruise. Her palms were soft, her fingertips lightly pressing against his skin as she moved his face gently. "Did... did your father do this?" She put his face back, then took his shoulders, "Was it because you forgot to be home?"

He couldn't speak, he felt a lump forming in his throat and felt pins and needles form in his hands as he tried to form words, but nothing came out. His mouth felt dry as sandpaper, his tongue leaden, as if it was fused to the roof of his mouth. All he could do was stand there and look down at the ground, unable to meet Addy's gaze. Andrew's voice was barely a murmur, like the gentle beat of a raindrop on a windowpane, barely audible above the strong wind outside, "Yes." The sound of his voice was like a ghostly whisper lost in the wind, so soft it could barely be heard but never forgotten.

Addy was, too, now at a lost for words, too shaken up to reply. Instead she looked down with guilt, knowing she should have known sooner. "Andrew... why didn't you say something sooner... I would have tried my best to remember..."

Quickly she put him into a tight embrace, which he took time to return. Her arms were strong, enveloping him in a tight hug that made him feel safe and protected. He could feel her body heat through her shirt, radiating from her chest like a warm fire. Her hands gently cradled his head, her fingers running through his hair like a mother comforting her child. There was something sweet in the air that seemed to come from their embrace, something fresh like a summer breeze and something comforting like a cup of hot cocoa on a cold night, with the sound of the embrace was gentle, like a whisper from far away, her breath brushing against his ear in the silence of the moment.

The tears he had been holding back finally came out and ran down his cheeks, but as each tear fell, he felt a little bit of the pain evaporate into thin air. With every hug, his anxiety seemed to melt away further and further until it was gone completely. He let out a long sigh of relief, feeling Addy's embrace like an anchor in an unforgiving sea.

Suddenly, Andrew felt a rush of courage. The words that had burned in his chest for so long now spilled out like lava from a volcano - all the pain, anger and frustration he had been holding in his entire life. He told Addy about his struggles at home and what it was like to live with an abusive alcoholic father. How sometimes the man's rages turned physical - like the bruise on his face - leaving him feeling more helpless than ever before.

Truth be told, Andrew never believed anyone would understand him and be willing to listen without judging or condemning him . And here was this girl, who was kind and gentle beyond belief, listening intently to every word he said and nodding her head with empathy. Her presence alone made him feel safe enough to open up about everything he had endured over the past months. In that moment he experienced love in its purest form.

He tried to ignore the way his heart raced when he was around her, and the butterflies that seemed to flutter in his stomach every time they talked. He wanted to trust her, but fear of rejection and betrayal kept him from opening up. He had feelings for her, but he felt like it would be foolish to express them so soon after meeting; it could make things awkward if she wasn't feeling the same way.

So instead, he chose to keep his feelings inside and act as if nothing was wrong when in reality, something definitely seemed different about him when around her. He feared what she might think of him if she were to find out how he's been feeling all this time; as if there were two versions of himself whenever she was present: one that was confident and outgoing, while the other was more introverted, vulnerable and afraid.

He kept these thoughts locked away deep within himself as much as possible; not wanting any of these emotions to go out as much as it has.