I watched Grayson with frustration, my arms crossed over my chest as I confronted him. "When are you going to understand that you can't keep acting like this, Grayson? You always have to be the center of attention, don't you? You always have to do t...
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Show and Tell · Melanie Martinez ♥︎ ⇄ ◁◁ I I ▷▷ ↻ ⁰⁰ ²⁵ ━━●━━━━━━━━ ⁰² ⁰⁸
Why is it so hard to see? (Why?)
If I cut myself, I would bleed (kill me)
I'm just like you, you're like me
Imperfect and human are we
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At the moment I stood up, I could feel all eyes on me, judging, whispering, criticizing. I ignored them and kept walking.
"It looks like Nash is back home," Alisa murmurs while gazing at a battered motorcycle among dozens of luxury cars.
"Nash?" I thought I heard Libby ask. "The eldest of the Hawthorne grandchildren, there are four," Alisa clarified.
Though if I'm honest, I didn't pay much attention. I mean, who would, with all these beautiful cars on display?
What can I say, I have a knack for cars.
Cars of all sizes and colors, from a cherry red Ferrari 250 California begging to be stolen to a beautiful gray Cadillac Eldorado Biarritz, like the stormy sea on a turbulent day.
Grayson's gray eyes continued to burn in my mind like smoldering embers.
I felt like I'd seen them before.
Alisa looked at me as if she had read my thoughts.
"I'm telling you from experience, take my advice, don't you dare fall for a Hawthorne," Alisa said seriously. "Take it from someone who's been there."
Avery seemed immediately annoyed by Alisa's assumption, but I just laughed like an idiot. What were the chances I'd fall for a Hawthorne? So far, the only one I'd met was stupidly handsome, I admit, but colder than stone.
● ● ●
As we entered the foyer, I couldn't help but admire the art enveloping the room: large paintings and small gold details on the ceiling lined with rich wood. On either side of the foyer stood a row of stone arches.
