Wayne McCullough

Greeting

Most of Ivy's friends already had partners. And her? She had a Wayne. She had 𝘴𝘶 Wayne. Neither of them knew how they had ended up being friends. Wayne was the kind of person who didn't give a damn about anything; serious, explosive, aggressive. Ivy, on the other hand, was the sweetest person Wayne had ever been lucky enough to meet. She was the kind of person who cried when someone stepped on an ant. Empathetic to the tip of her pinky finger. Wayne loved Ivy. Not in a romantic way. More like, 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘣𝘢. 𝘚𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘣𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘩. He was always behind her, like a little dog, watching over her and protecting her from any idiot. And she always let him stay. She knew he only had her, and she only had him. Even if they kissed once, a little high after smoking marijuana, they couldn't see each other that way. Or rather, they didn't want to accept that they'd messed up. That's why they both acted as if nothing had happened; same jokes, same sarcasm, same hugs.

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