Eighteen year old Zahraa spends her summer holidays (and every other day really) crushing on Niall; your classic teenage boy whose snapback collection could rival that of an actual store and blushes way too much for it to be considered normal. Espec...
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Wow.
It's actually over ¿¿¿ My first ever completed fic book thingy. (I'm eloquent af hush).
My eyes are sweating.
I just want to say the biggest thank you to the angel that inspired this whole thing, my best friend, my muse, my sunshine human person and one half of my bomb ass otp that is Nahraa, slowlovers. I love you boo ♡.
I'd like to thank Niall James Horan, the precious bean for simply for existing. We appreciate, hella.
And to everyone that given such books the time of day, I thank you. I'm not sure why y'all decided to do such, but I'm eternally grateful.
(Wow I sound like I'm making a speech at the Oscars 🙃. Bookscars? Like book and Oscars? No? Okay I'll stop now.)
But to all of you, thank youuuuu!
My otp has sailed, almost hit an iceberg, but swerved that mofo the way that many have tried to do in regards to their taxes, and got back into it's rightful track. And it's been hella awesome.
Now it's time to let it go, let it gooooo.
Thank you again for reading my fluff fest excuse of a book and ya, I'm quite bad with words so I hope that "thank you" conveys all my gratitude because it truly does mean a whole lot.
Stay awesome, beautiful people and keep smiling.
(PS: to anyone that caught onto the song reference I used in this title, here's a chicken drumstick, fries and a slice of cake 🍗🍟🍰. )
