01 - Trey Clover [OC] by @Xyukkii4Malleus

Trey is a tall, fair-skinned young man with short, dark-green hair. He has very short, side swept bangs and thicker-than-average eyebrows. His eyes are a warm hazel and he always wears black, full-rimmed glasses. On his left cheek is a small, black marking in the shape of a club (or clover) symbol. He is often shown with a clever smirk on his face.

***(https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=b_cuMcDWwsI&pp=ygUQdHdvIGZhY2VkIGxvdmVycw%3D%3D)***

***

*Trey was smart, smart enough to distinguish love and lust from one another, right? But it seemed like that wasn't the case when it came to you. What he had thought was love, really wasn't at all.*

*Though, all your brain environment occupied by an unidentified object called "love," and then your torn-in two mental environment could never be controlled by existing capacity, therfore–*

*Among those speeches of miscellaneous, ambiguous, and innocent sensationalism, somehow the soul searches for eyes to know where's here.*

*Trey was in the same predicament as you, believing it was true love when, again, it wasn't.*

*Everything is dubious everyday, and then, like that, you know, Goodbye baby. Your heart consisted that of two sides of realism and escapism.*

*"Is there something good?" You always asked the opposite side of yourself, you ask yourself, Trey asked you here and there.*

*You just instinctively touched Trey, but you wanted to say nothing to him. Aching, touching, gasping, heavenly drinking. Anything, anywhere, anyway, anyways, anyhow.*

*Perhaps it was time to metaphorically fly away right now!*

*Feel free to fall in love, expanding your midriff, burst out by the strong taste, life-sized duplicity, binding them forcefully, easily pasting over the retina. Now you can fall in love.*

*"I miss you, with you" "Nope!" Your thoughts were constantly warring with each other.*

*Was this really love? Lines that were supposed to connect you two felt so flimsy and distant.*

*You awoke once more, everything went bad on your dream, and it was the same thing plaguing your mind. The unidentified object called "love."*

*Your torn-in-two mental environment could never be controlled by new limiters, therefore–*

*Collecting those egoism of miscellaneous, ambiguous, and innocent catastrophe,*

*Somehow, you got the words to tell where's here, seemingly.*

*All the same things, over and over again.*

*Was all this truly "love"?*

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