"𝐌𝐢 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐮𝐡 𝐬𝐞𝐡 𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐰𝐤 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐮𝐲, 𝐘𝐮𝐡 𝐬𝐞𝐡 𝐟𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐲𝐮𝐡 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥 𝐦𝐢 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞."

"𝓗𝓮 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓼 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮, 𝓫𝓾𝓽 𝓘 𝓬𝓻𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓼𝓾𝓫𝓶𝓲𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷" -Ace ~🇯🇲~...

Ever been in the wrong place at the wrong time? Yeah... I have. Don't recommend. I'm Lue'elle, by the way, call me Lue. Elle works too, honorable mention to my 'mom' for the name. Now, for the juicier part. Giordano? Definitely not my cup of tea. Let's just say I didn't like him. At all. But life, being the cruel little joke it is, decided to throw me and him into the same orbit. As if fate, or some sadistic writer, was testing how much hell a person can handle before they snap. One night. Wrong place. Wrong time. Turns out, hating him was the easier part. Actually, whatever this is between us might just drag you straight to hell... and back. Elle. Xoxo. Ranking🥇 #1 in Caribbean #1 in Jamaica

What is wrong with him? I hate that he stares. I hate the feeling it gives me. It's unsettling... Blood rushes to my face... my head... It's... nauseating. And inconvenient. If he would just stop staring, I could get on with my life and my time here. So what if we've met before? He can continue to ignore me as he has been. I can do the same with no problem. None at all. I just... I want him to look away. I need him to. So I can breathe.

"Move from in front a mi," I say. But it comes out softer. Weaker. More honest than I intended. I'd be on the first plane out of here tomorrow. Nothing that we've said in the past twenty minutes would matter once I am on that plane. We are tied to each other, and our pasts don't have to intertwine any more than they already have. He doesn't move. I step sideways. He mirrors me, like he's tethered to the same gravity. "Kymani-" "Selah" My name in his mouth feels like a dare. A part of me wants it to feel like a promise. I shake the thought. After what feels like a standoff written in the marrow between us, he finally exhales and steps back. Barely. But enough. I don't waste it. I slip from his hold, my heartbeat pounding in my throat, in my ears, in the soles of my feet as I bolt toward the door. I leave him there. Leave the house. Leave the heat still burning between us. And I run. Fast, desperate, the same way I did the first time I left this place. The same way I survived. I don't look back. Not at him. Not at the house. Not at the version of myself that's still trembling inside those walls. Not anymore.

I've studied psychiatry long enough to know the eyes are the soul. Hers... there's nothing deranged in them, yet something about those eyes makes me question everything I know about control, about obsession, about myself. Who is Aala O'Donelle? And why is she on the psyche ward?

❝Baby I don't need a man, I need Dinero & a tan!❞-Taj Romaé *** "...if yuh nuh name Dinero den mi nuh want yuh,"I say sassily. He chuckles. "Den how you a pree me so?" his husky voice ask as he makes slow strides towards me. "You're in my personal space," I snap and he seems to be impressed by my attitude. I feel my knees weaken as he approaches me with lustful eyes. Then he leans down closing me in as he rest both hands beside me. His hot breath tickles the side of my neck as he whispers, "Nuttn' nuh wrong if we get personal b." *** Get ready for this heated romance, I'm ready. Are you? #1 Caribbean #1 Boujie #1 Youngwitersprize #1 Materialism #1 newwriter #1 jamaicanwriter #1 Fancy #2 Jamaica