a deadly storm, an unsolved disappearance, and a small town brimming with secrecy; an outcast girl, a boy who only knows how to hide, and the world against them; what could go wrong?

Harry doesn't believe in coincidences. Neither should she.

"Sierra, you go with Harry Styles." I raised up my head at the words, giving my teacher an incredulous glance. "Do I really have to?" Was the only thing I managed to say. The teacher gave me an annoyed look. "Did you not understand? You go with Harry Styles." I turned my head to look at him. At the mention of his name he glanced up, and if his green eyes hadn't frozen me in place already, the unimpressed look he gave me would've done it right away. [BOOK ONE] [BOOK TWO - AQUARELLE] Started: Feb 2018 Completed: April 2019 18/01/19 #1 in fanfiction 28/09/18 #1 in harrystyles 06/10/18 #1 in harry • THE FICTION AWARDS WINNER 2019 - BEST FANFICTION •

18+ / Very Mature "So you've been stalking me?" "Completely." I laugh at his candor and I watch as his eyes light up, "I applaud your honesty." "Why thank you." He responds with mock bashfulness. I pause for a second before I speak again, "I've noticed you too." "Yeah?" He asks with wide eyes and a pleased smile. I'm surprised by his surprise. He comes off as so confident, yet here he is, shocked that I could've been looking at him too. "Yeah." I bite my lip as the urge to touch his beautiful body increases, "But you've always been taken." "I bet none of those girls would feel as good as you." His voice comes out in a low whisper completely catching my insides on fire. "You're right, they don't." I state with no hesitance. There's no doubt in my body that I couldn't pleasure this boy better than any girl he's been with.

18+ / Very Mature "Please, this is like cliche-central. With a kinky twist." ††† I step under the hot stream of water, soaking my hair, and take a deep breathe. I try and clear my mind, focusing on the way the water feels hitting my body. I turn around, opening my eyes, only to shout out a curse and stumble back. Emma is directly in front of me, taking off her tank top, eyes glued to my body. I hadn't shut the curtains, thinking no one would be in here, and I didn't know if I was happy or mad I did that. I stood there speechless as her small hands grasped the bottom of her sports bra. I inhaled sharply when she pulled it up and over her head, exposing her breasts. They jiggled slightly as she tossed her clothes to the side, and I found my heart rate quickening at an alarming rate. "W-what are you doing?" I breathe out as she pulls her leggings down her body, leaving her in just a thong. "Showering." Emma tells me as if it's obvious.

Don't you call her baby. We're not talking lately. Don't you call her what you used to call me... A story in which a girl who writes songs falls in love with the boy who sings them. "Color...What a deep and mysterious language, the language of dreams." - Paul Gauguin. DO NOT PRINT MY BOOKS! *TW: story contains mature topics such as mental abuse, PTSD, minor drug usage, and minor sexual content.*