I'm still trying to decide whether this is an intro or an one-shot. Let me know if I should continue.

Song:

For Blue Skies- Strays Don't Sleep

I tempt myself a lot of the time.

If I were brave enough, I would talk to that man. I would talk to the tall blond man that doesn't look a day over twenty, with a deep angry sorrow filling those pretty blue eyes. I would ask him what's wrong, and maybe he'd tell me, maybe he wouldn't. And if I were braver than that, I would tell him my secret. And maybe he'd forgive me.

Or maybe he wouldn't.

He lives in a house out in the country with peeling white paint, and most of the time he's outside working on his truck or his motorcycle, staining his pants with oil and grease. I always want to talk to him, but I'm afraid that I don't know what to say. What would I say?

Would I tell him my secret?

I'll stand at the end of the gravel driveway, and watch from there as I wait for my body to move against my will. I want to tell him, get the secret off my chest, but there's a hazy fog that always clouds up my intentions. I don't even know this man's name, but what I do know is that he should know my secret.

Maybe then I'd feel better about myself.

"Are you ever going to talk to him?"

"I'd like to forget my past, Thor, not relive it."

My brother pauses on the other end of the phone. "But you always tell me about how you wish you were brave enough to just go tell him."

"I ruined his life, he's not going to accept the fact with a smile and a handshake." I chew along the already gnawed at section on the inside of my cheek. "Don't you have things to do?"

"I was the one who called you. So shouldn't that be your answer?"

I hang up.

I'm tired of being a coward.

My feet crunch loudly over the newly laid out gravel, a sound I'm not accustomed to.

This is the first time I've ever gotten brave enough to come close to this house, to come close to where this man lives. He's outside like always, and he's fixing up an old motorcycle, his hands covered in oil. It's a hotter day, and his skin glistens with sweat.

I'm scared he'll throw the wrench at me.

But now I don't want to tell him. As I get closer, I realize just how much of a coward I am at heart, and that Thor always had the guts to do anything he pleased. He would ask out girls with no problem, he would jump off great heights, and he wasn't afraid to tell anyone how he felt. I was always the opposite. I was the rejected brother that no one liked.

I never graduated Med School because of my secret. Thor did though, and he found his way working as a nicely paid mechanic after he graduated Tech School, and then he got married to a nice lady named Jane. She had just recently found out she was pregnant.

And I was still the reject brother that no one liked.

I had done nothing with my life because I couldn't. I still couldn't, because I was too scared to go out and do anything.

"Um, can I help you?"

He sets the greasy rag down on the seat of the motorcycle. His eyes are much bluer up close, and for a second I forget to breathe. Then I remember my reason for being here, and it hurts me more to breathe than talk. Everything inside me hurts, and I don't want to say anything, because I know my chances of anything are ruined.

"What do you need?" his voice is brittle and cold.

"I—" I swallow back the tears. "I'd like to— um. I just need to say—"

"Say what? I don't have time for strangers babbling on my doorstep."

I don't want to cry, but I'm just so weak right here and right now. I let a tear slip, and the expression on the man's face is shocked. I guess he's not used to people arriving on his property crying.

"I want to apologize for what I did," I stare at my feet. "I'm a stupid, terrible, selfish person, and I ruined your life."

I can't bear to stand there for any longer than that.

Reviews? Should I continue?