CHAPTER TWO
             

      Before there ever was a me, there was a you.
            You in all of your glorified danger. You in all of your glorified honesty. You never lied to me, you never spoke any half truths. 
         You were always talking, anything, everything, even though people probably stopped even listening.
          You never too much cared about what anyone had to say really, I can hear your voice now when you say that saying you'd always say. "Did they say it to you?"
          And of course I'd repeat, "Well no I suppose they didn't."
      "Well then, should you give a fuck Grant?" With questionable raised brows, your serious stares always seemed to intimidate me.
          And then I'd innocently reply, "No! But it still hurts my feelings when I find people saying mean things about me."
       "Then why do you keep coming back?" With a voice of angelic hatred. One I couldn't forget if I were reborn to this earth. 
        With a different name, lived in a different city, country, if my eyes changed to a grey, and my hair no longer the color of a blazing fire.
        I'd always remember your voice, I'd always remember your face and that unruly hair of yours you kept well up at your best.
         Your eyes were piercing through me, fixed as if you were to crucify me for not being as tough as you.
      You always forced me to be as tough as you.
        "What?" I'd question appalled, and I'd do that childish scoffing and crossing of the arms. While I'd intake all of your beauty in its innocence.
      "Why do you always come back here, you always find me. Because you like me. You look for me because I give you happiness that you feel like you can't find anywhere else in this dreadful town. Your name is Grant.
       You're the first girl I've met with that name. And that name no longer belongs   to any boy, or any girl. It belongs to you.
          And if I hear the name Grant being given, I'll slice their tongue in two, paralyze their limbs, and watch them slither like the snake they are!"
        "I am not flattered at all. That is a terrible thing to say or do Stone."
     "You're flattered, and the buck of your hips towards me, tells it so."
         "You liar!" And with a fit of laughs and a tackle onto the ground we'd wrestle.
        Then things would die down, and we'd just lay there. Listening, to the sound of nothing, not even our heart beats. Just being next to you, was a mental high.
   You in all of that glorified beauty, in my eyes, you were a king.
    Forever, you'll be my king.
     Sincerely,
                Grant Everly