❝Calm your tits, man. You got your fucking dark roast latte with an extra shot of fuckboy all over my arm!❞
During an evening in May, Tasha Aquino finally acquires her chance at an adventure. However, it comes at a deadly price and her seemingly un...
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thirteen ◌ niall's bargain
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My father was truly an intelligent person. Growing up, he seemed to always be three steps ahead of my sister and I. Whenever we wanted to pull a prank, sneak out, or blatantly lie to his face concerning our whereabouts, dad already knew our plans and cultivated a flawless strategy to counter our endeavors. This fact still boded extremely well in the position I currently found myself in.
The architecture books with stunning, glossy photographs, and pages of historical facts about iconic cities around the world, sat on my bookshelf where I last left them. Nothing in my bedroom seemed to be out of place. It simply sat as is, like it were waiting for me to come home. The plush beanbag made with faux-fur invited me in, as it rested at the corner of the space where the window met the wall. I plopped down on the massive seat, and gazed at the collection of texts on the white bookshelf.
"What do these thumbtacks represent?" Harry bombarded my once peaceful space and scrutinized the framed world map on the wall. "I've known you for two years, and you have barely made it out of state, let alone out of the country."
"They're places I wish to visit before I die," I told him, slightly irritated. I kept my eyes glued to the books rather than the asshat in my room.
"You've got tacks on almost every major trans global city," Harry continued to comment. "What's up with the different colors."
The heavy exhale escaping my mouth dripped in unnecessary theatrics, but I couldn't just let go of the sass coursing through my veins.
"Based on its architecture and history, the pink thumbtacks are the number one places I absolutely must travel to," I explained, my ass still planted on the beanbag chair. "Then second, are the orange pushpins. The cities marked with purple tacks, are the places I wish to travel to but I'm not in dire need to."
Harry responded with an understanding nod of his head, and continued to quietly examine the other things in my room. As I searched for the specific books needed, Harry's hands meandered its way across the bedroom, and picked up random knick knacks on top of my desk or vanity. I let him be, however did stifle a laugh when Harry accidentally swiped a makeup brush specifically for my Fenty Beauty highlighter on his nose-- bad girl RiRi evidentially created a product that no one could eschew.
"What are you doing?" I stood up from the comfy seat, books in hand, to find Harry rummaging around in my desk drawers. The brown haired boy kept a perpetual gaze on the middle drawer, not once lifting his eyes as he explained himself.
"Looking for a stamp."
"And why, are you looking for a stamp?" I approached Harry, darting my eyes from the mess he created on my desk, to familiar gold band sitting on top of a green notebook. Picking up the ring, I examined it, running my fingers across the smooth surface.
