"You said, no you sang, you sang that everything was gonna be alright. You said that we'll be alright, Harry. But did you mean that?"
Where Belle Olivia Granger encounters five young boys who happen to be in the biggest boyband on the planet, and sh...
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"The girl's eyes have always been the boy's favorite thing about her. She is absolutely striking in every other way from how her high cheekbones are dusted with stardust to the way her raven colored hair always brings a soft floral scent to his nose upon the chance a gust of wind whispers its song through the chocolatey strands, but there's always been something about her eyes. Yet he still found himself more intrigued by other assets of the girl other than the rose-like beauty she possessed, more fascinated by her fiery wit and overzealous imagination that most would consider an unfortunate case of naivety.
"Everything about the boy who worked in the kitchens below the highest floors of the girl's palace struck her as odd- the boy who would hide in the deepest darkest corners of the lavish galas the girl's father would throw in fear of being thwarted by poor insecure princes from far off lands, the boy who she would often find in the back garden humming a tune and furiously scribbling a song on a tarnished piece of parchment, and the boy with eyes greener than every emerald her sorry excuse of a father had ever gifted her as an apology for ignoring her in favor of his duties as king of a failing kingdom.
"The poor servant boy always found himself encapsulated by the princess he lived to obey, born into a life of servitude that he never wanted but knew he had to settle for. She was kind to those deserving, full of a purity so stark white that not even the darkest of mud could tarnish her. Her sterling heart forbade her from ever hurting a fly, sweet voice always whistling through the echoing palace halls as she would sing songs her mother used to sing to her as a child. Oh, how the poor boy wished he could hear his own written words flowing from her rouge lips, but the princess was betrothed to another. Upon-"
"So what I'm hearing is that you get to be the badass character, and I'm the sad little boy with a bad case of puppy love?" Harry guffaws, for once keeping his eyes trained on the winding road ahead as we travel quickly down the Amalfi Coast.
Sea salt and ocean air whip through my long hair, twisting the strands into waves that don't usually plague the straight tresses. The worn pages of the journal I read from continuously flap wildly, my yellow and silver painted nails fighting to keep them down so my eyes can focus on the correct words.
"Maybe if you would be quiet and just listen, you'd see how that isn't the case, but I guess I'll stop since you think you have it all figured out-" I start to pester Harry but don't even get to finish my train of thought seeing as he's waving me off before running his hand through dark voluminous curls that are playing victim to the whirling summer wind.
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