"Give me ten days." He whispered, fighting my reluctance to look into his eyes. "Ten days?" I asked, crossing my arms. Did this guy think that this was a joke? Or a game? "Ten days and I'll give you ten reasons to why you should want to stay alive." He answered, biting his lip. "I don't even know you-" "Deal?" He asked sternly, cutting me off. I shifted and searched through my brain for any reason- any- to why I should refuse. But really, what was there to lose? "Deal." I whispered. I watched as a smile tugged at his lips. "See you tomorrow then."

alright, students. your final project is due a month from today. i'd like you to take a picture of the most beautiful thing you can find.

luke knows he will never read them but that doesn't stop him from trying. ©mxxndust

Chats between two boys during midnight. © 2014-2015, Hayley (lovelylittlelashton), All Rights Reserved

"Kiss me, you loser," "No problem my red headed punk rocker," A series of letters between Luke Hemmings and Michael Clifford; two Australian idiots brought together via English project. Trigger warning: Self harm Cover by undertoness

so·cial net·work / noun / a network of social interactions and personal relationships. 2014 all rights reserved © -ymas-

q: " hey calum :-) " a: " hey :D "

3:00am; the hour of the devil. michael clifford, the devil himself. | Copyright © mgcthood, All rights reserved 2014

"I'll never really die, Michael. Not until you do." All Rights Reserved.© 2014 WriteDrunk. Formerly known as 'Cancer'.

"i don't think you know what you are doing to me." highest rankings: short story #100, fanfiction #220 ©mxxndust