Isabella Maxwell: a girl that craved adventure. Harry Styles: a guy that fights to give her one. Harry Styles AU // This story has absolutely nothing to do with Harry Styles. His physical traits are used but nothing more. This is fiction. // Includes mature scenes without warning. All Rights Reserved © jhildey 2014 *NOT TRANSLATING* This is fiction. The thoughts and feelings of a character does not represent my own. Please remember that.

I ignored his cute chestnut curls and his plump lips, along with his green eyes. I also attempted to ignore his accent. Do you know how hard it is to try to ignore your teacher completely?

Avery Martin is a smart 18-year-old with a boyfriend of one year, two rich parents, and goes to an Ivy League school. As disaster strikes between her and her boyfriend, Avery finds herself visiting a 24-hour diner late at night to forget about him. She meets an employee named Harry Styles and befriends him.

"the brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear."

Was it her beauty that reeled me in? The mysterious, deep, color her eyes contained? Or her addictive smile, smell, or even her personality? It was none of these things. The reason she's too afraid and too sad to even talk is what made her even more mysterious and captivating to me. Not talking for six years as a side affect from a tragic accident is what I learned had caused it; her sister and mothers death traumatized her. And my goal is to help her break free, to help her gain the courage to live her life to the fullest. To speak to me.

Taking place in the summer of 1978, the story follows 18-year-old aspiring music journalist, nicknamed Goldie, tasked with following up-and-coming UK rock band - The Orphans - while they do their first tour of the U.S. New to life on the road, Goldie befriends Orphan's front man Harry Styles, a handsome narcissist with an addictive personality. "You have to be a bastard to make it, and that's a fact." - John Lennon ➝ TRAILER: https://youtu.be/Oy8ixhAodNQ

Sequel to Cliché. In which two familiar people never really want whatever relationship they have left to end. And the other younger two don't know how to start.

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.

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.