#1 Teen Fiction | #1 Young Adult | #1 Romance "We all need someone to drive us mad." - The Wombats. He stared arrogantly down at me, a smirk plastered across his face. I sneered up at him with distaste, wanting to wrap my fingers around his neck and strangle that smirk off of him. He brushed my golden hair from my face, his long, slender fingers sparking electricity in my skin, making my knees wobble together. "Will you ever, forgive me?" he whispered huskily, his eyes intently staring into mine. His face was only mere inches from me. I just needed to reach out a little further to kiss him... "Yeah. Over my dead body." I snapped, before throwing my arms out forcefully, shoving my hands into his chest, pushing him from me. -*-*-*- He, is Carter Williams. I, am Lacey Adams. We were once, inseparable. The 'Golden Couple'. The unbreakable best friends, that everybody envied. Nothing could get between us. A part from being tighter than white on rice, we updated our status from friends to being in a relationship, frequently. We were neighbours, which meant our families were all close and even co-owned houses around our town. This, all is, until the day of my sixteenth birthday. Everything changed. The loving relationship we shared, was severed and torn apart. I couldn't hardly stand to look at him any more, without spitting fire that is. Every day is torture being around him. He was in all my classes at school and the window in my room was even directly aligned with his. So, what happens? My mother's mum gets sick, so dad and her fly out. Just them. Leaving me to stay with Carter and his parents, who are never home. We would be alone. In one house. Under the same roof. If I was insane before, I have no idea what I am now. © 2016 by LaurenJ22. All rights reserved.

"You're atheist," I remind him. "You don't believe in god." "I believe in you," He murmurs, letting the cigarette hang from his lips. "I believe in whatever you believe." He says, letting the confession roll off his tongue as if it were that simple. As if god, the devil, heaven, hell-as if none of it really had meaning to him. "That's not how it works," I mutter as we walk down a few more alleyways-the city of Manhattan coated in a light blanket of snow. Henry Vitiello had never had anything to pray for, that is, until he met me-the only thing that had ever opened his mind up to the possibility of religion "Isn't it?" He argues, taking the cigarette by his middle and pointer finger before blowing the smoke out. "I'II dip my hands in holy water if it means I could touch you." "You'd probably burn." 𓆩♡𓆪 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐘 𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎, the reaper. He's a prick. An asshole. A pretentious son of a bitch. He's not perfect. He's not even decent. But he's hers. She could be a bottle labeled poison but he was an alcoholic, and he had drunk her empty. Now he was hungover. 𝐉𝐀𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒, the healer. She's known to be the perfect good girl, with perfect grades and a perfect life with a perfect family. They didn't know that behind the gated doors of their billion dollar estate, she was strapped down to a chair every night and picked apart just to be put back together in time for supper. 𓆩♡𓆪 star-crossed; adjective (of a person or a plan) thwarted by bad luck. 'star-crossed lovers' and that, they were. So they fucked under those very stars that tried so desperately to break them apart. 𓆩♡𓆪 ‼️DISCLAIMER ‼️ BOOK REFERENCES TO MARA DYER, SHATTER ME, MIND FUCK, ETC ARE ALL INTENTIONAL SO DONT BE RUDE. AS FOR TRIGGER WARN