BOOK 2/3 OF MALIGNANT SERIES (MATURE READ!) "We need to go, they're coming for us." He yells over the rain that's slapping repetitively against the cement. "For us?" I begin until he grabs my hand and pulls me down the road. "For you, Amelia. They want you. But they can't have you." "W-why?" I swallow the lump in my throat. "Because what's mine, is mine." Harry and Amelia's developed relationship has been tested to many extents, but what happens when their choices have made them both the most wanted people by other men just as dangerous as Harry? Not to mention some shocking surprises along the way. #1 IN FANFICTION #1 IN DARK #1 IN HARRYSTYLES BOOK (2/3) *COMPLETED* ALL RIGHTS RESERVED @happydays1d/// CONTAINS VULGAR LANGUAGE, VIOLENCE AND SEXUAL CONTENT. READ AT OWN RISK///

*CONTAINS MATURE AND EXPLICIT CONTENT* Have you ever met someone that made falling feel like flying? ~•~~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~ Preview: "Do you think, if you jumped from this roof - it'd feel like falling or flying?" I ask, keeping up with our theme of asking random useless questions that we've been going back and forth with for the past half hour. I stare at my feet swinging back and forth, looking down at the alleyway behind the building; pondering the question over in my head that I often wonder too much about. I glance over to Harry when he doesn't answer straight away and he's watching me with a look I can't read. "Unless you were a bird or could fly, it would just feel like falling. Because you'd know you were going to hit the ground" he decides to answer, staring at me like he's somewhat bothered that I asked him that. I look back down at the ground, and shrug my shoulders, "I think if you didn't care about hitting the ground it could feel like flying for a few seconds." ~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~ STARTED 11TH MARCH 2019 - ONGOING

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.*