Elle Grey doesn't need anyone. She only needs herself, a paintbrush, and if she gets desperate enough, there are the few people she actually tolerates that she can talk to. She knows that there's more out there in the world - in fact, she spends most of her time either daydreaming or painting about it. She knows that...
"Harry, there is not a single song that you could play of yours that I wouldn't know every word to. I love them all. I just told you that Fine Line changed my life. Take the fucking compliment." I raised my brows at her and lifted my chin up slightly. "Quite a dirty mouth you've got when you get passionate, Bee." Then...
"And what about you?" "What about me?" he asks. "I mean, I'm sure every time one of your relationships ended because of negative media, you ended up feeling like an awful person, right?" He pauses. "I-" I interrupt, "You end up feeling unlovable because people didn't like that you had a significant other, so that same...