ripped jeans | hes

thirty eight

101k...you have got to be kidding me ! you guys are too good to me ! this is actually a dream come true...it feels like just yesterday i was struggling to even get 200 reads and 50 votes. i have always waited to get support and praise for my works and happy and proud is an understatement for my emotion right now...ripped jeans has introduced me to so many amazing and awesome people and to so many opportunities for support . it is the greatest feeling in the world to have your hard work appreciated and recognized. you guys can count on some more works to come in the future for sure ! thank you thank you thank you i feel so blessed to have gotten so far. u guys r the ultimate. inbox is always open to chat or to share works !!

but also don't forget to vote and comment pretty please :) - gigi

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halcyon (adjective) - happy, sunny, care-free.

"What do you think everybody else is doing?"

"Who cares?"

"No, seriously." I flipped around so my warm stomach was pressed against the plastic beach chair. "What do you think everybody on this great day in Malibu, California?"

"Let's see," Harry leaned over and took my sunglasses before nonchalantly placing them on himself. "Liam's probably romancing Sophia by the marina. Louis and Niall are probably picking up girls, if they haven't blacked out from alcohol poisoning yet. Aria's probably, ah, I dunno, hanging with Louis and Niall I suppose."

I nodded slowly before easing into a silly smile. "What do you think Addison and Harry are doing right now?"

"Harry Styles and Addison Montgomery?"

"Yes."

"Hmm. Those old idiots?" Harry itched his SILVER SPOON tattoo.

I shielded my eyes from the bright sun with my hand. "What are those old idiots are up to?"

"Definitely not resting on Zuma Beach like a couple of beached whales. Probably not laying on two beach chairs, watching the ocean waves while getting tan. Addison is definitely not wearing a sexy, dark blue, bikini and Harry isn't wearing yellow swim trunks." Harry smirked to himself before peering over at me.

"No," I shook my head, chuckling. "Definitely not."

Harry and I had found our way to Zuma Beach after getting our ice cream, stealing licks from each other's ice creams on the walk to the beach, not even caring that they were the same flavor but enjoying the banter. We had rented some beach chairs and placed them close to the water.

Harry looked good in just his adorably bright yellow swim trunks, almost too good. His abs were nicely toned, a six-pack delicately carved into his tanned stomach.

I could see a faint line of light colored hair starting from bellybutton and trailing down into his trunks, his 'happy trail' as Aria would call it. His bright swim trunks also hung low on his tight hips, revealing his intense V-lines that directed my eyes further down his trunks, making my heart flutter with desire.

There were, what seemed like hundreds, of dark tattoos inked along his toned torso, bulging arms, and large hands. The biggest ones were two delicate swallows drawn on his upper chest, and the two ferns that were placed on his hips.

I wanted to count them, to ask what his favorite one was, to hear every story that each inked artwork told him, to understand why he craved them. But I didn't, I don't know exactly why I didn't, but I somehow knew that it was too heavy a conversation to have in such a lighthearted day.