september 1st, 1951
dear louis-
i went down to Natalie's again today. i came to her house to find Robert and all the guards leaving. the house was still and quiet when i entered, and i called Natalie's name until i heard soft sobs coming from the bathroom. she was sitting on the ground, beside the toilet, clutching some anti-depressants and another drug i've never heard the name of.
"what are these for?" i asked, trying to pry them out of her grasp before she did anything stupid.
"they're to calm me down," she explained, sniffing. "to keep me from being crazy,"
"you don't need calming down."
"i'm crazy!" she shouted, animalistic in her attempts to get back the drugs.
"i like crazy," i told her, and her expression softened. she stared into my eyes, and i stared back. suddenly her lips were on mine; chasing the fury and fire out of me until i was left with hopeless infatuation for the beautiful mess that is Natalie Hart.
'c'mere," she giggled after we finished, pulling me with her to the river outside of her house. when we got there, she laughed and stripped of all her clothes except for her bra and underwear. 'go on,' she prompted. 'take snapshots of me.'
she danced and giggled and i sighed and sondered as the beautiful, curvy, crazy woman took my breath away with every move she made. the pictures are flawless, lou. you should see them. and you will.
these are the ones i will send to Time. the ones with the real Natalie Hart; not the fake one Robert Hart controls.
love,
zayn.
YOU ARE READING
legend ☾ z.m.
Fiksi Penggemarshe was all flashes of cameras and bright city lights; he was just a simple photographer that was in awe of her. in which a photographer falls in love with his muse. © purelyhxrry book 2 ; paradox series ~ lowercase intended ~ c o m p l e t e d
