"Curiosity killed the kitty Miss Adams." My body stiffened. Slowly I turned around just to see Mr. Parker standing in front of me with hands in his trouser pockets. I bit my lip. I thought he would be angry but when I looked at him. His face showed no emotion. He then started walking towards me I moved back. This continued until my back hit the door. Then he placed his one hand on my side, leaning forward, close to me. "What was rule number three Miss Adams." His face was extremely close to mine my breath got hitched. I couldn't answer his question why? Because I was more focused in the distance between us. "I asked you something Miss Adams." He said again. "T-That t-there a-are prohibited areas i-in the house where I shouldn't g-go." "It seems like you remember the rules. This room is one of those prohibited areas. So, from next time think before you put yourself into trouble." I just stared at his eyes. I was lost in those pair of sea-coloured eyes. No other guy has ever affected me this much as Mr. Parker. I get nervous around him. I don't know what this feeling is but this feeling is different. A feeling that I have never felt for anyone. "Understood?" he said again. I nodded. "Yes Mr. Parker." ***************** Liam Parker, 25 year old billionaire. Arrogant, handsome, ruthless, the only thing matters to him is his son and his work. Bella Adams, 24 year old simple and bubbly girl, who lives with her Nanny in an orphanage. What will happen when Bella comes as a babysitter of Liam's son? Let's find out in the story.....

The sound of pencil strokes filled the silence, a quiet rhythm against the weight of unspoken words. "I don't even like him." The sketchbook lay open, pages curled at the edges, filled with lines she never meant to draw. His face stared back at her-smudged, incomplete, yet unmistakably him. She sighed, pressing the tip of the pencil against his sketched smile. It wasn't fair. She turned the page. Now, in a crowded university hallway, he leaned against the wall like he belonged there. "Still pretending you don't care?" Rivan's voice held a smirk, but his eyes said something else. She hated that she knew the difference. "He was my childhood tutor. Now, he's my classmate. If this is fate, I want a refund." A flicker of silver caught her eye-the handmade guitar pick spinning between his fingers. Her guitar pick. She had made it without thinking. Had given it away without knowing. Hadn't expected it to find its way to him. He was laying down, staring at the guitar plectrum (pick) above in his hands. His fingers closed over it. "I wonder if she knows she already picked my heart." The paper crinkled beneath her grip, her unfinished sketch staring back at her. "Tell me, Nitya..." The whisper lingered like an unfinished melody. "What am I to you?" ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── ｔｒｏｐｅｓ • Childhood frenemies to lovers. • Friends to lovers. • College mates to lovers. ° He fell first and harder. ° Slow burn. ° Long Distance. ° unrequited ° soft romance ° Bestfriend ArchitectxMusician