The Love story that began in a Tree house.
**Flashback** Third-person
"I love you", Krystal stated with a grin plastered across her face from ear to ear. "I love you more" Damien replied cheerfully, . Krystal aged 9 and Damien aged 10, were the best of friends. They had always been neighbours. Initially though they hated each other though after they were forced to become friends by their parents five years ago, they had been inseparable ever since. They spent every waking hour up in Krystal's purple painted tree house.
Krystal was beautiful from birth she had Big green eyes with blue flakes and wavy auburn coloured hair with natural streaks of golden blond. She had naturally tanned skin and a perfectly toned body although she was only twelve years old. Damien was likewise as gorgeous from birth, he had Dark brown hair with natural tints of black, deep ocean blue eyes that changed to the most beautiful shade of sky blue when he was happy... or with Krystal.
"You're my own personal walking and talking Diary, you know?" Krystal playfully asked. "I know" Damien agreed. "Can I try something Krys?", Damien asked with a hint of fear in his eyes. Krystal's leaf green eyes widened as Damien leaned in to kiss her.
"What was that for?" she cried out in horror,
"Cause I love you" he said, his sky blue eyes shimmering. "But there something I need to...umm...tell you. Pinkie promise you won't tell. Dad got into a bit of trouble with some people and now their going to relocate us. So I'm moving Krys."
Tears welled up in Krystal's eyes. And for a split second it seemed tears welled up in Damien's eyes as well but he quickly brushed them away (returned to his rock hard persona) and comforted Krystal.
**End of flashback**
Krystal's POV
For the billionth (exaggeration) time we were moving house. But I had stopped complaining now because I was used to it. I even kept most of my stuff in boxes in case we had to move in promptly again. Though mum promised this time that we wouldn't move again cause she had finished her contract with the firm. Mum was a lawyer, one of the best. Jennifer Jones, her name was plastered on heaps of billboards around New York. I have to admit though there we some perks associated with moving, No.1- if I caused trouble I usually escaped punishment, No.2- Because mum was such an exclusive Lawyer, it also came with a exclusive pay packet. In other words we were filthy rich. Meaning I got what ever I wanted. My allowance was higher than most 16 year olds. And my bags alone were more expensive than entire outfits - actually that's an understatement-Than most 16 years olds entire closets. You could call me a spoiled brat but it didn't offend me because to me you were just stating the obvious.
After the removalists had finished putting our stuff into the trucks, I got into my mum's 2010 Mercedes E-Class, and we drove off. Apparently we were moving to the upper east-side of Manhattan. I have to admit I was excited. Though today was Sunday apparently I was starting school tomorrow. For some weird reason I was kinda scared. I was the Queen Bee at all of the schools I had moved to, but I don't know why I was... unsure of what it would be like tomorrow.
When we arrived we were greeted by doormen who opened the majestic spotless glass doors for us. The Elevator 'dinged' and we pressed level 25, mum bought a penthouse. We found our place 25B, and after unlocking the doors we walked in. I know we had been rich for as long as I can remember but I was dumbfounded. My mouth was open so wide it almost hurt.
"You shouldn't open your mouth so wide, you'll catch flies" mum calmly stated.
The floors were covered in Black ceramic tiles, polished so well I could see my face; glass replaced one of the walls that gave the most beautiful picturesque view over Manhattan. The furniture was a mix of contemporary and royal designs; the couches were made of the finest white leather. I was a fan of art and so I could tell that the multiple paintings on the walls would have cost a fortune and a half. The walls were painted Royal red, and the fifty something inch (maybe even sixty something inch) Widescreen LCD TV was so big it was like our own personal cinema. The surround speakers surrounding the place told me that it probably was.
