The girl behind the bucket list (1D Fanfic)

Close, so close.

So I wasn't planning to keep writting this one, but so much of you wanted me too so I did and I will. Please keep the feedback nice because I stopped writting since I thought people weren't reading, but you were, I just didn't realised until I stopped. Please comment and vote if you do read.

Isabelle's POV.

       I stared at my bucket list. Why so much bullshit? Why do so much? I mean, aren't those simple, stupid excuses to not do it already? I take a sharpy, and scratch every single one of them. 

    I clean the tears on my face. Sneef. Sneef.

  I write:

   1. Find a guy who's worth falling inlove

   2. Fall inlove.

   3. Change someone's life

   4. Have sex.

   5. Understand love.

  6. Feel free.

  7. Feel something, anything.

 I put the pen down, barley run my fingers over the soft page. A knock on the door makes me hurridley close the old notebook and hide it under the pillow.

 "You're not gonna volunteer today?" Mark asks, his cologne immidietly hitting me.

  "You smell good," I half smile, "And yeah I'm going, can you take me?"

  "Uhm.. well...," He stutters,"Actually this guy said he'd take you, and his nice. If you're actually dating him I'm glad, it might as well make you stable and I beg it makes you believe in the wonderfullness of love." He speaks in his nerdy tone, and I get pissed, and since I'm high in the white it pisses me off even more.

  My turn to talk, "First of all," I start with an attitude, "I'm not dating anyone. Second of all love isn't just something that can cure your fucking mental bullshit and you should fucking know that because you're a nerd. Aren't you?" That one was offenssive for him but he deserved it, "And third of all love is bullshit, it's just something people that are bored or may I say writters invented, just to have a stupid excuse for writting and not feeling so fucking alone. You might aswell know that your heart is placed in your chest to pump blood and beat to keep you alive, not to care and understand someone. That's ridiculous mark, and you know it, cause why in bloody hell would you believe in love if you've been searching for a stupid girlfriend since 13 and they all dump you like trash, and you know wha-?"

  He cuts me off, "You're being rude, and stupid, and a bitch belle, and I-"

  I cut him off, "Well maybe I'm rude, and stupid and a bitch because I'm fucking ill," I snarl, "Something love can't kill"

  He stands on the door, his eyes all hurt and bullshit but I just hate it when he critizises my mental illnesses, I'm sick, and people should get over it.  "I'm leaving, to volunteer on taking care of sick kids. Oh,unfourtunetly love doesn't cure them either" I speak sarcastically.

  I walk up, and hitt my shoulder with his as I walk out, "He's parked outside," He speaks.

  "I'm walking" I snarl.

  I walk down the stairs, pissed off, so much anger I'm on the edge of exploding. I could explode right now, turn into nothing but ashes when I do, cause yes I'm so empty that's what I'll turn into. So empty. So fucking empty. I mean, what's the point of life? You're born, then you go through bullshit and more bullshit and still more fucking years of bullshit, then you meet someone and they make you feel like you're walking in fucking paradise and then from one day to the other they just leave. They leave, like you're nothing, like you're air, like you weren't even their in the first place, so you go back to feeling bullshit, more years of bullshit, and a little more bullshit, and then you know what? Yes, you die. You die and turn into nothing but bones, or ashes, and then into nothing. But you've always been nothing, you've been nothing since you were born, so you just turn into more nothing then you already were. Does that make sense? No. Well, darling, that's life. 

  I walk down faster, pass through harry's black van. He gets off, walks towards me, and I walk faster.

  "Belle? Belle what's wrong?"

  "Leave. me. alone" 

   "Let me ride you,"

  "I can walk Harry! I don't need your help Harry, my parents never helped me, I've never needed help since I was seven! Did I ask for a ride? No! Did I ask for your help? No!"

  "Belle!" He walks on my speed, almost tripping.

   "No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No!" I say, screaming, tears sitting on my water line, "No! No! N-"

  His arm holds mine, pulls me against him, my body hits his and sticks unto him. His hand roughly pulling my waist, our noses touching, his eyes staring down at my lips, his lips parted relieveing hovers, smooth gentle gasps for air. His hand moves my hair away from my face and I just paralize. His green orbs stare deep into mine, locking each other, and it calms me down, just a bit. His curls tingling my forehead made my gut twist, and his scent, his so manly woody scent numbed me out. My eyes shut down, but I could still feel his orbs starring into mine with his brows furrowed. My head tilted back carried away by the painful feeling my body was in, yet pleasing. His hand brings my head closer to him, our lips gracing, touching. And I felt the need for kissing him, such a powerfull need I could feel it on the tip of my fingers. But I didn't make the move, he didn't make the move, we just stayed there: Body against body, breath fanning, lips gracing. Until it was interrupted by my hands slightly pushing away on his chest, and my lips whispering words unto his lips,

  "No, just no"