M A L E V O L E N T (adjective) : having or showing a wish to do evil to others. "she was an angel, touched by the devil he was the devil, touched by an angel" When Harry becomes leader of "The Vipers", he doesn't expect his hardest mission to be a fiery brunette sat in a coffee shop. all rights reserved to bbypinkstyles

" You really aren't in any position to be making demands, hot shot" I say pushing the blade harder against his neck. He chuckles deeply before leaning into the blade " and you, little devil, should know by now I'm not scared of you." A shiver runs down my spine. I'm fucked. I lower the knife slowly as my eyes flick down to his lips. Don't do this, Sage. Either walk away or kill him, those are your options. His hand slowly cups my face as he grabs my chin. He tilts it up forcing me to look at his eyes. With that one look everything stops. I am so beyond fucked it's not even funny. How the fuck did I get here. "Now correct me if I'm wrong, little devil, but I believe my eyes are up here," That stupid smirk crosses his lips as he continues " if you keep staring I might get the impression you want something from me." He lowers his mouth to my ear " Say the word and I'm yours Sage."

{completed} "I want to go home." I plead. "Do you? Because Lydia, I will take you home myself if that's what you want." He says lowly. I knit my brows together in confusion. He takes another step toward me. "But, don't you remember? There's people out there, Lydia." He steps right up to me and tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear. "People who want to hurt you." he continues. I feel tears well up in my eyes as I let out a sharp exhale. Harry leans down so that his lips are right next to my ear and I tremble in pure terror. "And this time..." I feel him speak against my ear. "I won't be there to save you." he whispers darkly. -- ~crumble ; verb -to break apart into small fragments especially over a period of time due to deterioration. ~ loving him meant risking everything. he was trouble and she knew it... but it was so hard to stay away. Harry Styles is a criminal. He has criminal friends and lives a criminal lifestyle. Lydia White has been a good girl her whole life. A twist of fate causes the two of them to meet. Lydia falls for Harry but soon discovers who he is. Now, he has enemies out to get him...and her.

(Completed!) I swore I saw him, standing there in the darkness. But it couldn't be him, he was gone. He was dead and he had been for a year now. // resurrect: verb -revive or restore the memory or being of something. // Lydia White has moved on with her life following the supposed death of the man she loved. But she has no idea that her life was about to change all over again, because someone is lurking in the shadows. Maybe Harry wasn't dead after all. // THIS IS A SEQUEL TO 'CRUMBLE'!!! IF YOU HAVE NOT READ THAT BOOK YET THEN PLEASE STOP WHAT YOU'RE DOING AND READ IT BEFORE YOU START THIS ONE!

[COMPLETED] "The only thing I've ever been scared of, Lydia, is losing you." - Lydia and Harry have finally began that 'next chapter' that they've been longing for, working on the realities of parenthood and dealing with loss day by day. But it may be harder to put the darkness of their past life behind them than they might think. Old demons will come back. Old enemies will rise again. And this time, they have everything to lose. - This is the third book in the 'crumble' series! Please be sure to read the first two books before you get to this one!

Lennon's dad, Axel is out of the grave and walking the Earth, willing and able to destroy anything that comes between him and his prize, even his own blood. But Axel of all people should know; defeat doesn't run through the family veins. So, who has the nerve to pull the trigger? Never underestimate a girl who used to make bread for a living, Harry Styles learnt that. However, Axel isn't the only one who wants a hint of drama, Lennon is at the number one spot of another hit list. One nineteen year old girl can only take so much, and sometimes it's too much for even the person you love to save you...

My thoughts you can't decode.. Sequel : Escape Route.

'You are going to help me acquire something very valuable,' he spoke close to my ear, his breath fanning down my neck. I looked up at the paintings in front of us, all worth millions of pounds, and then at the spot on the wall where one was missing. The knowledge of what had happened to it was giving me the adrenaline I needed to allow myself to be so close to his presence. 'Why are you trusting me with this?' I asked, turning my head slightly to face him. His green eyes met mine, a small smile turning at the corners of his lips. The room was silent as tourists filtered through the gallery, each one taking their time to focus on the artwork before them. This was a crazy proposition. I'd never been the type to run towards crazy. 'Well, you haven't told anyone yet have you? And I suspect you're seeking a little adventure.' * Atlas Hall has played it safe her whole life. Harry Styles lives for the thrill of it all. When she's recruited by the mysterious stranger, adventure awaits.

We're all mad here, it's Wonderland. ~ Harry latches onto my passionate on-beat arms as he keeps me from moving forward. "Are you fuckin' mad?" He grits through his teeth. "I'm in Wonderland, Pretty Boy," I throw my free arm in the air, motioning to the surrounding world. "Of course, I've gone a little mad." He flips me around as the level of infuriation rises throughout his clenched jaw, trying to remain composed. "Don't try and be something you're not, Presley." I rip away from his hold, furrowing my brows from the curt statement, the honest revelation that should've just stayed within his mind. "We'll never be the heroes, and you know that," he says, colder than the Arctic's towering waves. "We'll never win." We'll never find Purple. Purple, the color of the Star-Crossed Lovers.

Purple was never kind to the ones in reality. ~ "Get out of here." The familiar boy told the redheaded girl, her heartrate rising with each erratic breath. "He never lets you leave." Purple struggled greatly with mixing blues and reds, ensuring their dye joined as one. Never were they allowed to function on their own. Never were they allowed as individual colors, nor were lighter shades of violet. There was either dark purple, or there was six o'clock. Trembling under the Blue lights, the Red peered over the boy's shoulder at the grandiose poster plastered on the wall. If she couldn't leave Wonderland, then she would watch it burn.