la·bels
/ˈlābəls/
noun
"classifying phrases or names applied to a person or thing, especially one that is inaccurate or restrictive."
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|highest rating| ↠ #72 in fanfiction
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all rights reserved, britishbabestbh
oh and happy belated birthday my lil smol bean vik:) he can now legally drink in america what up
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^they went on a boat on the Thames with his family to celebrate his bday aw
i feel like i should go back and change all the times i wrote his name as vikk and change it rightfully to vik hmm
+Ashley Marie+
I walk down the hallway with my slight limp, my notebook clutched in my hands by my thigh in attempt to cover the large, white bandage wound around my leg. The weather today is unexceptionally hot, forcing me to wear shorts that provided no help to avoid getting questionable attention.
No one comes up to me and asks what happens, which doesn't surprise me. Pretty much everyone I bypass glance down at my wound, but nothing other else than that. They couldn't care less about a nobody with a limp. Not that it bothers me, because I'm more than happy to live without people stopping me to ask about an injury.
I finally reach my locker to empty my book bag of all the folders and books I didn't need, I dump about half of the things in there into my locker. I nearly fail to notice the small piece of paper that flutters out of the small space and onto the tip of my sandal. It was just a corner of what used to be a whole piece of paper. I crouch down, wincing, and pick up the thin scrap and see the ink marked on it. Four bold black words in all caps were written on it.
STAY AWAY FROM HIM
I turn the note around and the letter h with a dash before it is all that is written on the back. No clear indication of who wrote it, though it felt pretty obvious that it was Hayden.
How did she find out?
"Simon's got some explaining to do," I mutter angrily, stuffing the note into my back pocket.
I shut the locker door and spin the dial before heading down to my class, occasionally bumping into other people's shoulders. I sit down in my seat and for the forty-two minutes I'm stuck in that class, I ponder about what I'll say to that boy about this. But at the same time, I don't want to talk to him after the kiss.
