Making all the wrong choices they ever had,
to end up being Royally Trapped.
• • •
❛ Why are you acting this way? ❜
❛ I feel infuriated.❜
❛ And why is that so? ❜
❛ Because I can't figure out if I should scream at you or have you screaming for me.❜
•...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
THIS CHAPTER HAS MY HEART AND SOUL!! COMMENT!
please read:
ALSO, see uhm, so we get like almost 200 views per chapter but there are less than 50 votes. i know commenting isn't possible for many, but voting? i really hope you silent readers just take a second of your time to put a vote. it helps with the ranking, and spread.
With my study course and the lack of my technological skills, i don't use insta much to promote the book, i try but it's just a limited medium for me.
i hope you all can vote/ comment and if possible for you guys (and if you like the book) to share the books with other people interested in such genres. Thank you!
━━━━━━━❅━━━━━━━ n o o r ━━━━━━━❅━━━━━━━
I make the most terrible choices.
It's clear in my head that I have a thriving liking towards my temporary husband. I might not be in love with him but my body has started to desire him.
He hasn't done anything to earn that if I am being honest, but because he is the only man I have been in close vicinity of, the man who brings a boil in my blood with his attitude and is capable of handling my sarcastic self with his own snarky remarks. Also, he is the only man I find myself being comfortable with.
He is also very extremely handsome. His brown eyes, not dark but light amber mixed with honey coloured, with his defined jawline, which has the perfect amount of well-maintained stubble. His face is perfectly symmetrical, and hence, very capable of having a girl on her knees, precisely me.
And I have been friend-zoned, and bluntly. So any possibility of me fulfilling my carnal desires has gone down the drain, flushed into the sewer.
I have dug this hole myself, no one is to be blamed.
I lay on the soft plushy pillow, white, on a foreign bed, also covered with a white bed sheet, in Kabir's home. He is obsessed with keeping his things in perfect order, his house is painted in a neutral monotone. He likes mundane things and monochromatic contours.
There's no speck of dust even in the guest room that is not always in use. Unlike my flat, his is a duplex. Two floors connected by a flight of stairs. He had converted the top floor into a home office and a gym. On the lower floor, there are three rooms, one kitchen and a living hall.
