One inexperienced introverted girl, an appealing rich daredevil, one domineering sultry blonde, a bully, the psychopath and the gregarious best friend.
Tiger Gething's story starts here.
Desperately trying to get the attention of the boy she's infa...
"Ho! Ho! Ho! To the bottle I go To heal my heart and drown my woe Rain may fall, and wind may blow And many miles be still to go But under a tall tree will I lie And let the clouds go sailing by." -J.R.R. Tolkien
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
°•°
Well, tonight's the night.
Liam's birthday party.
I decided to make an effort to look my best. Galeria is going to be there, and I can't let her shine. Besides, I'm feeling like breaking a few rules I had set for myself tonight. I don't know if it's because of recent events, but I just feel like getting drunk tonight. But most of all, I really want to get the attention of Harry.
My outfit includes a black and white striped long-sleeve blouse, a grey sleeveless jacket, a high-waisted black skirt, black knee-high socks, and black suede booties. I accessorize with two necklaces: a long gold one with a rose pendant and my usual gold heart-shaped necklace. Lia trimmed my hair like she promised, so I curled the ends and let it fall to my shoulders. My makeup was simple: powder, a little eye liner, black and silver eye shadow, fake lashes that Lia got me with mascara, and red lipstick. I've always been too scared to wear red lipstick because red itself draws so much attention, but tonight, I really didn't care.
The doorbell rings, so I pick up my shoulder bag with a few items in it. The door opens, and I find Harry himself looking rather attractive as always. What surprised me was the way he was looking at me.
"Uh...you look...wow." His eyes traveled down my body. He's never looked at me this way before, and I can't say I'm not loving this attention from him.
"Thank you." I blush. His eyes remained on my body. To get his attention, I leaned forward and hugged him. He jumped a little at my sudden action but relaxed and wrapped his arms around me.
"Okay, let's go." I confidently grab hold of his hand after I lock the door behind me.
His Range Rover is parked in the driveway. He opens the door for me to go in, which is a first, by the way. He never really opened doors for me. My heart burns with the possibility.
He's quiet, which is a first, so I decide to break the silence. Looking over at him, his veins are visible due to how tight he's holding the steering wheel, and his eyebrows are furrowed, which means he's thinking about something really hard, and he keeps running his hand through his hair.
"Harry, is something wrong?" I inquire.
His eyes meet mine, and he relaxes a bit. "Nothing is wrong." He smiles and returns his gaze back to the road.
"You know you never told me about your tattoos." I admire the ink on his arm, mostly the rose.
"Oh well, there's nothing really to say. They all represent a part of my life—things I experienced, things that made an impact on me. However, some of them, well, they have no meaning." He informs me.
