Booorrrreeeeeeeeedddoooooooommmm

(Bruh

How old are you?)

Met rubbed his neck nervously, at a very old scar between his shoulders. “I don’t know. It”s up to you and Andre. Not me.”

(Also I made Met a backstory if you want to read it.)

(Oh so you’re not that far.)

(This backstory is super sad tho:

When Met was born, he was born into a rather poor family. His father had fallen drunk and he got caught up in a street fight, which ended up with the poor chap being killed when little Met was two. His father always stepped in the way of his mother’s abusive methods of punishment to the child, including severe beatings for crying in hunger. However, now that his father passed, his mother fell into a deep state of anger, placing her irritational anger on her tiny son. She would scream and hit him, and when he grew older, she would do absolutely unspeakable things to him. She would burn his genitalia with a hot knife, sexually abuse his tiny self, and starve him. He was unable to cry at night, for if he did it would recieve him a screaming and a lash of the knife.
Thankfully, however, a concerned neighbor had expressed their concern for Met’s well-being. He was never seen outside and was never allowed to play with the other children. He was apparently homeschooled, apart from being registered in a school’s mainframe. So this neighbor called CPS and they launched an investigation. They only had to take one look at the state of the home, little Met and his absolutely ruined clothing and personality, to set his mother in prison (she was eventually sentenced to death) and to put Met in an orphanage.
However, Met did not do well in the orphanage. He leapt miles away from kind women who wanted to adopt and say hello, cried when a volunteer made him change his clothes, and he could be heard talking to himself in bursts of tears.)

The woman sighed with a sad smile. It also confused her as to why he didn't call Andre 'dad' after awhile. "I'm pretty sure he'd agree that your opinion matters in this too, Met."

(It’s BECAUSE HE JUST MOVED IT GEEZ)

Met scrunched his face up unhappily as he gazed at the bulb in his lamp. “It shouldn’t,” He mumbled softly over the skin.

(Did you read the backstory I wrote up?)

Met sniffled softly as he continued his fiddling and scrapes of the desk and pencil, shrugging. He knew the woman couldn’t see her, but he honestly wanted her to leave him alone.

(I mkkmwkeneoejwnwkwnwkwwpwjwk)

Met scooped his face up into his hands and shut his eyes. He felt tired and groggy from the long day. School had been fun, but this situation had taken so much out of him all at once. He grabbed his calculator and started to do his homework nevertheless, hardly paying attention.

(Yesssssss)

(When he finishes, since it’ll be around the same time.)

(She’s great!)

Met finished up with a little bit of reading for his World History class, setting down his pencil after taking his notes. He gently shut his textbook, set down his new iPad from school and leaned back into the chair with a faint sigh. Homework was exhausting, but he felt much more comfortable with his Calculus. And he had read up on a lot of stuff he had missed. He felt distinct pride in himself as he rose out of his chair and turned off his lamp, slowly taking off his scarf to dress into something more comfortable.

(Shhhhhhh I won’t tell anyone lmao)

Met found the comfy sweatpants and a t-shirt with a pretty pattern that Andre had bought for him and laid down slowly, shifting around on the unfamiliar bed. Though his bed back in the orphanage was much too small, it was comfortable. This one was big enough, he just wasn’t used to it. It helped everything that had happened in the past few days crash down. He was somewhere new.

Met had been messing with his new phone, tossing it around his bed curiously. He giggled softly at each little bounce and the noise it made. He picked it up and turned it on, humming curiously as he swiped through all of the apps available in the App Store. There were a lot of games. A lot. Met wondered if he should get one and was just about to when Andre knocked. He started into a sitting position, swallowing and hastily turning off his phone.
“Ye-yes?”

Met rose out of his bed, the phone bouncing onto the floor as he went to open the door. He looked sleepy but faintly amused.
“Okay. That sounds good.”

Met shook his head a little. “No. Not really.” He grinned meekly at Andre’s tiny smile. “Whatever you’d like is fine.”

“But I don’t know what to get,” Met protested with a tiny squeak in his voice. “I don’t know what’s around here.”