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.*

In the world of the wealthy and powerful, an angel finds herself in need of protection, she is assigned a bodyguard - a beautiful and mysterious man. A man with secrets, but one who is determined to keep such an angel safe at all costs. She is drawn to him despite her better judgement, some excitement, some light into such a dark and dangerous life. // "We can't," I whispered, being the one to break the silence between us. The air between our faces was so thick it was almost as if it wasn't there anymore, I could hardly take in a breath. Everything was so warm, and the longer we spent like this, our lips just hovering an inch from each other, I became so much more aware of every way his body was touching mine. I hated him. We hated each other. Yet here we were, desperate to touch. "I know," Was all he said in response, darting his eyes down to my lips again, a small smirk on his face. Out of desperation, the way he had already got me so wound up, my body was overwhelmed by too many feelings. My hands travelled down from where I was grasping his biceps, I soothed my palms down his sides, his warm skin, before I was holding his hips, right above the waist band of the grey sweatpants he had on. He let out a low hum of approval, and a slow smirk spread across his face as soon as he realised what I was doing. His eyes met mine again and he tilted his head to the side, almost as if he was trying to figure out what I was thinking. He then blew out a slow breath, and the smirk on his face only grew wider before he whispered, "Fuck it." *** i loved you as icarus loved the sun. *** Start date - May 5 2022 ***

"Smoking is bad, you know." The placid voice speaks up from the distant dark corner, nothing to see but a tall silhouette and an orange glow of a cigarette cherry. "It's the least of my problems," I murmur with my own between my lips, proceeding to feel the stagnant debris valley my throat when I suck delicately. He exhales a chuckle of cynical amusement, his footsteps getting every step clearer to my eardrums until I eventually sense body heat burning my back. "And why is that?" He whispers over my shoulder, hands inviting themselves to grip the railing in front of me so I become a prisoner between his inked arms. I swallow. "Because you'll be the one to kill me first." // Aven Brooks is hired to take pictures for the world-renown punk rock band known today as Duplicity; hoping the experience gets her into her most elite-dreamed university. However, when her lenses accidentally capture more than just cheeky sound checks and performances, she comes to a horrifying discovery that Duplicity is anything but a band. Appalled and frightened, she's trapped. *HIGHEST RANKINGS* #1 IN HARRYSTYLES #1 IN ONEDIRECTION ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO @happydays1d NOT ALLOWING TRANSLATIONS! CONTAINS VULGAR LANGUAGE / DRUG ABUSE / SEXUAL CONTENT / DESCRIPTIVE VIOLENCE / MENTAL HEALTH READ AT OWN RISK!

SEQUEL TO DUPLICITY. Complicity- to be involved with others in illegal activity or wrongdoing. After sacrificing herself for Harry's freedom, Aven Brooks is no longer the innocent photographer with big dreams and a bigger heart. Now under the notorious control of Malikai, she becomes brainwashed into being the perfect asset for his organized crime. Harry, a fugitive, spends his days trying to find his angel and reap her out the path he once walked. When that stroke of luck comes his way, he smacks into the harsh reality to what she's actually become. Needless to say, she's no longer an angel. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO @HAPPYDAYS1D ALLOWING NO TRANSLATIONS. CONTAINS MATURE LANGUAGE, SEXUAL CONTENT, DRUG USE, VIOLENCE, AND MENTAL HEALTH. READ AT OWN RISK!

I hate her, I hate her, I fucking hate her. If she died right now, I wouldn't care. My main concern would be how I would get my money for this stunt. I have not an ounce of a feeling for this girl in front of me, yet I can't move under her angry gaze. I wouldn't dare. "Fuck you." I whisper out a pitiful insult to get the last word. "Fuck you." She replies just as quietly, taking a deep inhale as she holds our eye contact. She grinds her jaw as she stays looking at me, eyes scanning over my face with a huff. I hold my same scowl, still not backing away from her. I'm stuck in my place, my face not even an inch away from hers. I don't know how it happened, who started it, or what, but before I know it, her lips are on mine and I'm shoving her body backwards into the shelf. - Aubrey Hart and Harry Styles, costars in the movie "Forbidden Connection", hate each other. On screen, they're happily in love and yearning for each other's touch. Outside of that, though, it's constant yelling and fighting between the two of them. There's never a second of peace. Harry goes too far with what he says and Aubrey claps back in an instant. They don't clash very well whatsoever. When they're offered a big paycheck for a PR relationship, will the forced closeness become a little too real? Will they start to grow an understanding for each other? It's like they all say... there's a fine line between love and hate. **MATURE CONTENT** HIGHEST RANKINGS #1 in enemiestolovers #1 in harrystyles #1 in louistomlinson #1 in zaynmalik #1 in liampayne STARTED JANUARY 2021 - COMPLETED JULY 2021