"You drew stars around my scars, but now I'm bleeding..."
Gaia Ashmore has lived under the radar of her strict mother all her life. Every aspect of her life - from her fashion sense to her career - is controlled by her mother. And even when Gaia mov...
"This was the very first page, not where the storyline ends, my thoughts will echo your name, until I see you again." – Enchanted (Taylor's Version), Taylor Swift
Happy Speak Now (Taylor's Version) release day! 🥳
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OKAY, SO IT wasn't exactly the best idea to wait for her outside the lecture hall and sneak up on her only to push her up against the wall and stare at her, thinking of words to say to apologise.
But I'd be lying if I didn't think she was so pretty up close. Her mesmerising blue eyes. Her blonde hair was tied up into the neatest ponytail. Her cheeks were dented with a light pink blush over the expanse of her pale skin, dotted with freckles like they were little kisses of islands. And tanrım, her flowery scent; like she was the impersonation of a garden. I almost forgot that she was the same - and only - girl to have ever smiled at me until her question registered in my mind. "Who are you to touch me without my permission?"
I cast my eyes down to the marble floor and stepped back to give her her personal space immediately. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You make everything ten times worse. Stop, just stop. I silently met her gaze once more, urging myself to say something but only falling short.
She was too bright, too pretty to even talk to someone as low and spiteful as me.
If only I hadn't been such a jerk to her when we first met, maybe she wouldn't look at me with so much disgust. My determined expression fell and it felt like a part of me was sad that I had hurt yet another person in my life - even if it was a stranger.
I had an ugly charcoal soul - it sucked the energy out of everyone around me. It was like that before I came to Oxford, and it was the same now, unchanged. Ever since I was as little as the kids who get excited when they hear the sound of their neighbourhood's ice cream van, I was told that I was a disappointment. A curse on my family. Someone who'd grow up to taint my last name. And so it turned out, no matter what I did to prove them otherwise, I always ended up making things worse. I was the boy who was destined for failure, hated by his family because of a mistake I still regretted to this day.
I was never good enough to make anyone proud of me.
I was never good enough to be loved.
I was never good enough for even a simple hug or a pat on the back.
"Please don't ever do that again," She spoke up. I didn't know if my mind was again sabotaging my mental health or if it actually did occur, but I was sure her hands clutched her bag tighter, her knuckles turning a lighter shade. Her expression remained unchanged, one filled with repulsion and confusion as she looked at me up and down - my navy blue hoodie and baggy pants only adding to the chaotic image of me she had constructed in her mind. "I'm going to go."
