Ansel smiled widely, explaining animatedly with wild hand motions in detail about the homerun he had just scored to win the championship game. His mom and dad smiled and laughed at all the breaks in his retelling, his dad occasionally cutting in to crack a joke which earned an adorable laugh from his son in the backseat. Mrs. Engrove peeked in the rear view mirror, grinning adoringly at her beloved son who had just turned eight a few days before.

He was a bright-eyed, clever, little second grader with loads of great friends. Ansel was incredibly outgoing and loved having a good time and his parents always pampered him, him being an only child and all.

The star of the baseball story, Ansel, beamed in the car as he recaptured the moment he slid into home plate, his teammates and coach swarming out from the dugout to congratulate him and jump around in joy as their hard-working team had just gotten first place in the league. Everyone, teammates and parents alike, were all sweating with the sun beating down on them, but no one could be happier at that moment.

A loud, honking car's horn yanked Ansel out of his randomly thought up memories and he gripped Coen's hand tightly, stopping on the curb of the sidewalk before he would've walked aimlessly into the busy street. Coen glanced down at him. "Hey, you look a little distracted. You alright?" Ansel gave a small nod, his mind starting to clear once again.

Coen looked at him for a moment longer before nodding and giving him a smile which earned him a grin in return. Ansel's gaze fell down to the bottom of the light pole, which had a string of white lights wrapped around that weren't yet lit, as it wasn't evening.

The blonde with the fluffy jacket and scarfed kicked at a piece of hard-packed snow, watching as it burst all over his shoe which made him smile. He was pulled across the crosswalk by Coen as they had been signaled to; Ansel just hadn't been paying attention.

As they got to the opposite curb, the two boys paused on the edge of the park, standing in a patch of lightly fallen snow that looked a bit like sleet. It wasn't late enough in December for full blown winter quite yet, but it was plenty chilly already and many people in the quaint town of Willow Springs were still excited for the Christmas holidays so early on.

Coen's brown eyes fell upon a snow-dusted picnic table and he led Ansel over to it, who of which followed along without an argument.

"You sit tight and find out what happens next to Enoc and his pal and I'll stay within your line of eyesight, got it?" Coen asked him, not able to contain the amount of excitement in his eyes and tone of voice. Ansel gave an amused grin, nodding obediently as he sat down on one of the picnic benches, holding his novel in his arms.

Sure, his favorite character in the When the Snow Falls, the book he just couldn't seem to stop reading, Enoc had just been diagnosed as clinically depressed and he wasn't doing all the great, but Ansel secretly loved watching Coen taking pictures. The brunette was extremely good at it, too, having a string with numerous clothespins with all his polaroids on it, spread throughout his room. He mostly took pictures of all the breathaking, scenic views, but yet, quite a few picture of a blushing, flustered-looking Ansel had made their way onto his white walls.

Why would you take pictures of me? Ansel recalled asking him on a piece of paper one day after Coen had snuck up on him to photograph him cuddled up and half-asleep on the couch.

"Because I hate being the only one to recognize your beauty," Coen replied simply, his sincere grin over to him proving he truly meant it. The brunette captured multiple blushing Ansel polaroids after that comment.

Ansel watched Coen stand across the snowy park, holding his camera up to his eye, his other squeezed shut as he focused in on the frozen droplets hanging from a grove of willow trees near the small river in which the town got its name after. The leather-clad brunette beamed as he stepped away from the tree after a moment, dropping his camera gently to hang back around his neck as he grabbed the small piece of film from out of the camera.

Coen opened up his jacket, pulling out a ziplock sandwich bag and putting the picture inside so it wouldn't get crinkled up and he zipped it back up, putting it back in his inside pocket. He looked over his shoulder to give an exaggerated wave over his head at Ansel who grinned widely back at him and waved back at him. Coen stepped back a few feet, before turning to walk into the middle of the park, his camera lens facing the sky from in his hands.

He lifted the camera up to his eye, tipping his head back a bit to get a better perspective on the sky. His thumb pressed the button, the small picture sliding out of the camera, a photograph of the sun in one corner and the blue sky and grey clouds in another. He repeated his process with the film so it would last on the way home, continuing to flit around the park, snapping shots of whatever seemed to catch his eye.

After watching Coen take a few more pictures, Ansel pulled his legs up on the bench, propping them up before him and pulling his legs up to his chest. He rested his book atop his knees, flipping to the page he left off on and picking right up again, his eyes flitting over the words silently.

-:-

Ansel clenched his jaw as he was slammed against the locker, dropping his backpack in the process. He fumbled for his bearings before the black-haired male bore down on him once again, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and laughing coldly as he rammed his back to the lockers, holding him up.

"Hey, speechless," the dark-haired boy named Christian slurred, his voice filled with disgust as he smirked widely. "Are you lost?"

Ansel shook his head quickly, opening his mouth as if to argue, trembling slightly as a couple of Christian's friends gathered around him to enjoy the entertainment.

"Huh?" Christian asked, holding a hand up to his ear in mockery. "I can't hear you, loser, speak up." Ansel narrowed his eyes at him, wriggling in his grasp, only to gasp in disbelief as Christian had slapped him across the face.

Where were all the teachers and bystanders? Is everyone seriously just ignoring this? Was the only thought running through Ansel's head. Oh, and also; Ouch.

"I'm sorry?!" Christian growled, his eyes glittering with hatred as he got up in Ansel's face, causing the blonde to wrinkle up his nose and make a face at him.

Everyone knew Christian had an abusive father. Everyone except the oblivious school system, apparently. If you ever were cornered in the hallway by him and his little gang of scrawny guys lacking friends, you just let it happen, not wanting to hurt his life any more than it already was. So, as Ansel tried to shoulder his way out of his grasp (in a gentle manner), his tip toes on the floor, he was still in shock from the fact he actually slapped him that when the stereotypical strong, jock type of boy stepped up to them, Ansel was afraid he was on Christian's side.

Believe it or not, he wasn't. The boy wearing old-fashioned leather did what nobody else in this high school seemed to be able to do, and he grabbed onto Christian's jacket collar and pulled him back harshly, causing his grip on Ansel to loosen so the blonde could stagger away and grab his bag, peeking over his shoulder to watch.

The newcoming tousle-haired boy had Christian pinned to the lockers by now, which surprisingly enough, caused a few girls to pause and eye the boys. The jock jabbed his finger at Christian's chest. What was that in Christian's eyes? Was it...fear?

Ansel got to his feet, standing a few feet away as he slung his backpack over his hoodie, watching them warily.

"...Look, kid," the boy was hissing into Christian's face (even though they were all juniors), getting down to his height to look him in the eye as he was a few inches taller.

"You may think that just because no one stands up to you makes you better than everyone else. But it doesn't, got that? If anything, it's bringing you even lower than everyone else. I know you've got some daddy issues, but you do not need to take that out on everyone else, alright? Especially-" He pointed over to Ansel's direction without even daring to move his eyes. "-people who don't deserve to put up with this kind of crap. If I find out you're doing this anymore, I'm not afraid to take this back behind the school to finish this, got it?"

Christian stared at him in utter terror, looking shocked he would even bring those sort of things up, but nodded quickly. The boy released Christian's jacket causing him to stumble and hurry around him, rushing down the hall with his gang.

Ansel took a slow step closer to him and the boy held out his hand to shake. "My name's Coen," the brunette greeted with a charming smile.